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gojo-mochi · 10 months

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“C’mon baby show me that you care.”

CW: Shanks is your dad’s friend in this au. Modern!AU. Fem!Reader. Toxic!Shanks. Age gap (Reader is in first year of College 20s and Shanks is about 40s), Degradation, dubcon, spanking, fingering, P/V, toxic coercion, manipulation. Slight voyeurism. Sex on top of a car. Nicknames (Baby and sweetie)

A/N: I um don't know what to say. Haha - hi? *twirls hair* I was listening to Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo while I posted this hah

WC:4.3k

You first met Shanks at a family barbeque, he was an old friend of your dad but he didn’t really look that old to you. Sure he had some stubble going on but his hair showed no signs of graying or another like that. When your dad began to introduce you to him, you first noticed the scarring over his eye, he catches you staring and winks at you. “Careful, look too long and you might end up falling for me.” Your face turned as red as his hair at that moment, your dad didn’t seem to take it seriously as he laughed and smacked Shanks’s back, “Ah, still up to your old tricks huh, Shanks?” Shanks laughed back, finally saying hello to you properly. You wished that you paid more attention to your dad’s words at that time…

Months passed before you saw Shanks again, this time you found him with a woman wrapped around his arm, walking into the cafe you were already sitting at. You didn’t pay him much attention and focused back on your lecture notes, scribbling down notes after notes, lost in your studying when Shanks plonked down on the seat across from you. He gave you a wide grin and a wave of his hand, “Yo! Y/N, right? Long time no see!” You were a bit startled but pleasantly surprised that he remembered you. You tucked some hair behind your ear as you greeted him, “Ah that’s me. Your name was Shanks?”

His eyes glinted as he leaned over closer to you, “Aw come on now, don’t tell me you forgot about little ol’ me that quickly?” He got really close to your personal space, placing a hand over your notebook even, making you focus solely on him. He stares at you for a couple of seconds, “Oh wow, you've gotten prettier since the last time I saw you? What’s your secret, hmm, baby?” That pet name he used went straight to your head, making you stutter as you try to think of what to say, Shanks chuckles, bringing his hand to softly pat your blushing cheeks. “Trade secret? I won’t tell if you don’t~” He winked, and his words were not lost on you, as he stood up to take the open seat directly next to you now.

Knocking your thighs together as he absentmindedly picks up your notebook and flips thru your notes. “Wow, smart and pretty, aren't cha?” He casually placed a hand on your thigh, his pinky faintly touching the hem of your skirt. “Hard to find girls like you nowadays…” He murmurs like he was talking to himself, you fidget under his touch, feeling hotness bubble up inside of you. “Um, Mister Shanks, can I have my notes back? I have an exam I need to study for.” He gasps dramatically, “Mister Shanks? I thought we were closer than that, baby.” He squeezes your thigh and lets go of it in the next second, placing your notebook back down, and getting up. You thought he was getting ready to leave but he took your phone from you and put his number in, throwing it back to you with a carefree smile, “If you ever need any help with your notes or anything else. Be sure to call me, ok, baby?”

He finally leaves you after that, assumingly back to that woman he came in with but you didn’t bother to check as your heart and mind was reeling from that interaction with him. That night you stared at the number saved on your phone under the contact ‘Shanks <3’, you didn’t text him that night. You didn’t text him at all actually, chalking his actions up to it all being some sort of game to him. You were more focused on your studies at the moment, you couldn’t be roped up in some random older guy’s scheme. So more months pass, you did well in your studies and even found yourself a boyfriend! Forgetting all about Shanks during that time.

Shanks did come over though, more often during this period, he and your dad started hanging out more so he was invited to some family dinners. He didn’t do much except for the occasional touches and multiple winks. He asks you about your studies and stuff you like at the dinner table. You try not to blush a lot when he talks to you, but he makes it hard from how he focuses his attention on you. Giving follow-up questions, remembering things you told him from the previous dinner, and even giving you small gifts from time to time. You were slowly warming up to his charms, falling for all his honeyed words and alluring touches.

It was supposed to be another nice family dinner with Shanks again this week, something that you look forward to. But tonight as you walked into your home, you slammed the door behind you and walked straight to your room without a word. Your parents came to check up on you, knocking on your door and asking if everything was alright, but you shooed them off saying that everything was fine. But, everything was not fine, you just found out that your boyfriend had been cheating on you for months now, you just confronted him earlier that day and broke up, so all the pain and emotions were crashing down on you.

You buried your head under your pillow as you wailed and cried your little heart out, you heard the door creak open but mumbled “Go away.” to whoever came in. They didn’t seem to listen though as you felt your bed dip and a soothing hand start to rub at your back. You angrily shot up to yell at them, “I told you to go away!”, tears blurring your vision you could still see that this was not your parents but Shanks who came in to soothe you. His hand is still on your back as you gape at him, “Easy there, sweetie.” You threw your pillow at him, smacking him right in the face, you felt a little bit bad seeing him just take the hit full on without even dodging or taking his hand away.

He grabbed the pillow and placed it by your side, “Feel better?” his hand continued to rub circles on your shoulders, lessening the tension you first felt when he came in. His tone was so soft and sweet, that your walls were melting bit by bit and you threw yourself on to him this time. Clutching at his shirt, bawling your heart out, spilling tears and all the things your ex-boyfriend ever did to you. His shirt was getting wet but he didn’t seem to care, pulling you in closer to sit on his lap as he tucks his chin on your head and envelops his arms around you. His scent invaded your nose, a musky and spicy cologne that he always wore, it made your head spin a bit.

His hand weaves through your hair, petting it gently as he cooed to you, listening quietly to your woes. As your voice gets more hoarse later on, falling to whimpers and burbles, he leans back, cupping your face in his hands. You shake your head, trying to cover your face from him seeing it. “Aw, come on now, baby. Let me see that pretty face of yours.” He slowly takes your hand into his, and tilt your chin up to face him. You knew you looked like a mess right now, you felt like a mess right now. But as soon as Shanks saw your face, he gave you a long smooch on your forehead, your nose, and your cheeks, lingering on each kiss a bit longer than the last.

“There’s my girl, that guy doesn’t know what he lost.”

His stubble tickles you a bit with each kiss he places on you, making you feel almost giddy on the inside. His words and action were stirring something inside of you, making you do something that you wish you could take back. You surge forward, planting your lips on his, even going as far to poke your tongue out at him. “Mmpf!” Shanks was shocked at this sudden intrusion, allowing you to slip your tongue in his mouth sloppily, tasting a strange mixture of mint and something bitter, remembering that he usually likes to sips wine at the table. He pushes you away once your hand goes to paw at his bulge.

Hands gripping down on your shoulders as he stares at you, wide eyes, lips parted and a bit swollen and shiny with your lipgloss smeared all over it. You teared up again, blubbering out an apology as shame filled your gut. “I-I’m really sorry, oh my fucking god, what’s the hell wrong with me? I-” Shanks holds your tear stricken face in his hands and wipes away the oncoming tears, shushing you gently, “It’s alright, haha, I’m not mad that a cute girl like you decided to come on to me, to be honest. But, tell me, sweetie, is this something you really want?” His tone got deeper, laced with something that made your stomach churn.

Shanks leans in to kiss you on the lips again, tracing your bottom lips with his tongue tenderly. Pulling away and chuckling as you whine, hands clutching on his shirt, eyes begging for more. “Now, now, your parents are still worried, waiting in the kitchen, I don’t think you want them to come in here and find us like this, now would we?” His hands travel down your chest, squeezing at them for a bit, before unbuttoning your jeans, his fingers dancing on the edge of your panties. “Don’t worry though, baby, after all, I did promise your parents that I’d help you. But only if you can beg me for it, can you do that for me?”

His fingers dip inside your panties, feeling the wetness that was already forming, his tone changed again when he asked, “Can you say ‘Please make me feel good, Shanks?’” You hiccup the words he wanted out, feeling your mind start to get hazy from his actions already, his other hand leads your head down onto his shoulder. “Good girl, now try to be quiet for me, alright?” He didn’t spare another second after asking that, his fingers moving quickly inside of you, plunging in with such precision that you felt an orgasm building fast already. You bit down on his shoulder as the almost shocking orgasm washed over you, muffle your screams and moans.

Shanks fingers left you, making you clench around nothing, feeling utterly empty, he laughs outright when you whine. His digits poking at your lips, as you obediently opened your mouth to lick them clean. After you were done, he pats your head and gives you one last kiss, “I have to go now, sweetie. Be a good girl and try not to worry your parents, yeah?” When you tug at his shirt and ask him to stay, his face changes into a disappointed one. “I thought I told you to be a good girl, yeah? You can handle the night without me, can’t you? You’re a big girl, sweetie.” He sighs out, making you drop his shirt and shrinks back into yourself with a soft “Sorry..” escaping your lips.

His mood instantly changes upon seeing you so docile, cupping your chin up and pressing a heated kiss on your lips, with a promise of, “Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you soon, sweetie. I’ll be sure to show you what a real man is.” And with that, he left, closing your bedroom door behind him. You try to strain your ears to catch the words he was saying to your parents but they were too far away for you to make any sense of it. You crawled back in your bed, too tired to clean up or change, opting to just throw away your jeans, rubbing your thighs together as the slick in between started to feel uncomfortable. Sleep that night came fast but it was not peaceful, you tossed and turned, your mind replaying your breakup with your ex and what happened with Shanks in your bedroom. You didn’t know what to feel about it or the words he said to you.

Shanks disappeared for a couple of weeks after that incident, you asked your dad once when he was coming over for dinner again but your dad just shrugged saying that Shanks seemed to be busy. Bitterness bubbles up in your heart, Shanks was just like those other guys, he didn’t care about you. You pushed down any feelings of attachment or affection for him, that was until, one day after you were done with class and was walking home. A red mustang pulled up right beside you, the window rolled down and Shanks winked at you from the driver seat.

You didn’t know if you wanted to cry from happiness or anger at this point, you chose anger seeing at how casually he greeted you like nothing happened. “The hell do you want?” You spat out, eyebrows furrowed in, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Shanks got out of the car and came to embrace you, strong arms trapping you in his hold. The tears came out as you smack and hit at his chest, venting out your frustrations at him. Your meager attacks barely did any damage to him apart from the sparse grunts. Once you exhausted your strength and your body limped on to Shanks, him rubbing those same damning circles on your back that always seem to calm you down.

Your cries settled down to barely audible whimpers and Shanks usher you in his car. You slump down in the passenger seat and he buckles you in, getting in the driver seat soon after. You lean your head on the window, watching the scenery pass you by, silently cursing yourself for being so easy. You should be more mad at him, curse him out more, hit him more, but when Shanks’ hand comes to squeeze your thigh and he gives that charming smile, your heart shoves your rational mind out of the way.

“Why did you leave?”

Shanks turns down the radio, glancing at you, “What was that, baby?” You dry swallowed, feeling your throat burn a bit, he’s still using that nickname on you. “You left, without a word. You left me alone, after what happened, I mean, I thought that…” You trail off, pressing your head against the window, feeling childish for voicing out your feelings to a man almost twice your age. Shanks let out a hum, his hand on your thigh started to trace small circles and a repeating pattern on it. It was almost hypnotic the way he does it, you immediately felt your body calming down from his touch alone.

“Sorry, something came up for me, and I got super busy. I wanted to contact you, but I don’t have your number, remember? And it’s not like I can contact your dad and be like ‘Hey, can you tell your cute daughter who I fingered bang in your house that I’ll be busy for a couple of weeks?’”

You swat at his shoulder, with no malice or anger this time, giggling as you do so. “Shanks!” He sticks out his tongue at you as a retort. “I really am sorry, baby. That’s why I’m taking you somewhere special tonight.” You sink back in your seat, fiddling with your hands a bit. “Where are we going?” Shanks turns to look at you for a second, winking, “Somewhere special, I promise you’ll love it.” That ‘somewhere special’ turned out to be on top of a hill, overlooking the city. Far away enough from the light pollution so that the night sky shone like diamonds above the two of you.

Shanks took your hand and led you out of the car to view the sights, “Pretty, isn’t it?” His hand slid down to your back, you scoff and cross your arms, “If you’re gonna say ‘But it is not as pretty as you’ I’m gonna leave.” Shanks laugh heartily at that, squeezing your waist and pulling you in his side. “Is that what boys your age say?” You chewed on your lips for a bit, thinking of what to say. “Why does that matter to you?” You felt a little bit smug for only a couple of seconds as Shanks pinned your back to the front of his mustang. Easily lifting you up and pushing you back on the hood, forcing his knee to come right in the middle of your skirt.

He nipped at your neck as his sultry voice murmured out, “Cause I believe that I promised that I would show you what a real man is, isn’t that right?” Your hands clawed at his back, as his knee started to nudge under your skirt, rubbing a wet spot on your panties. “Wait-here? What if someone sees us?” Your nails dig in a bit as he replaces his knee with his hand instead, sucking in a heavy breath at feeling how drench you already gotten. “No one comes up here besides me and I think you like the idea of getting caught, don’t you? Daddy’s precious little girl is a needy slut, isn’t she?”

You liked to think that you were better than this, to let some older man degrade you and fuck you out in the open. Haven’t you learned your lesson from your last ex and hearing all those stories fuck boys and frat boys around campus. Shanks exude the same kind of energy those guys have, confident, arrogant, charming, all wrapped in a hot package with red hair and clean stubble. Speaking of ‘packages’ you wonder if Shanks can back all his talk, as Shanks’ hand expertly began to plunge in and you of you in a swift pace. Your thighs shakes and tense up, as your moans and whimpers fill the night air.

Shanks bit down on your neck hard enough to leave a painful mark on it, you hiss in pain, clawing even deeper on his back. The sudden pain with his increasing pace made you reach your peak hard, legs spasming out, ankles locking in behind his back. His hands roughly pull up your skirt and rip open your blouse, a few buttons breaking off in the action. Tugging down your bra and latching a mouth on your nub. Biting at one and tweaking the other one with his hand, it was painful to say the least, you tried to tell Shanks just as much but he just replied with; “Hah? You can take it, can’t you? You’re a big girl. Smart, pretty, more mature than the other sluts at your campus, right?”

He wasted no time, sliding your panties to the side, you didn’t even realize that he got his cock out and was already slapping it against your sensitive bud. You flinch and try to crawl away, pushing yourself further back on the hood of the car, but Shanks shakes his head and makes a disappointed noise at you. “You’re really going to do this now? Tch, looks like I was wrong about you after all.” He didn’t make a move to pull you back in, just leaning back and shaking his head once more as he looked down at you with a disapproving glare. “Guess, I’ll just take you back home.”

Your heart leaped into your throat, your stomach twisted into a pit of anguish, you grabbed Shanks’ wrist and yelled. “Wait! No, I’m ok now! I just-I just was surprised, but I want to do this, I swear-please don’t leave me again.” Your tears welled up again as you blubbered on pleas for Shanks to stay. Shanks yanks you forward, bringing you chest to chest with him, “You really want this?” You nod frantically, Shanks smiles at that, wiping away your fat tears with the back of his hand. “You know what to say then, right? Tell me how much you want my cock, sweetie.”

You nod again, gulping down shakily, “I want it, I want your cock to fuck me, please, Shanks, please.” Shanks gripped your chin forcefully, applying pressure as his eyes darken over when he stared down at you. “Yeah? Are you going to be a good girl now and listen?” “Yes, yes, please, I’ll be good for you, I’m a good girl for you, Shanks.” Shanks growls, releasing your chin and twisting your body around so your back is now to him, as he bends you over the hood of his car. “Good, but that doesn’t mean you’re not gonna get punished for what you did earlier.”

You didn’t really know what you did that warrant a punishment but you were too afraid to get on Shanks’ bad side again and make him leave so you complied. Hands scrambling to find purchase on the slippery surface of the car’s hood as you got spanked. You cried in pain, begging for him to go a bit softer but he answered you with another spank, “Take your punishment like a big girl.” Smack! Smack! Your legs barely were able to keep you up at this point, being pushed aside by Shanks’ knees as he positioned himself behind your entrance, his bulbous head gliding over your folds twice.

Collecting some of your arousal on his tip before he started pushing it in, the stinging pain combined with the pain of being stretched out almost made you pass out but you held on. Shanks lets out a hefty sigh as he fully bottoms out inside of you, hands reaching over to play with your clit to give you some relief as he angles his hips back and slam into you. Over and over again, wet plaps sounded in the air mixed along with his grunts and your soft whimpers and moans. His other hand holds on to your hips firmly, pulling you back on his cock as you bounce off with each smack.

Whether it was because Shanks was a good fuck, the pain and exhaustion of everything before, or a combination of all, you felt another orgasm coming on quick. Your stomach coiled up but your lips couldn’t form any words to let Shanks know that you were about to burst. But he felt it though, from how much your cunt started to tighten up around him.

“That’s it, baby, take it, take my cock in that slutty pussy of yours.”

He starts to go faster.

Plaps Plaps Plaps

“Not such a fuckin bitch, anymore, aren’t cha? Just needed to get fucked and you’re behaving well, again.”

Plaps Plaps Plaps Plaps

“Nghh, fuck, good girl, such a good pussy for me, fuck, I love you.”

And with that being said, you released the coil in your stomach, squirting all over his cock, as Shanks groaned and pulled out, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you down on your knees in front of him. “Open.” He grasped open your chin, tapping his cock on your cheek until your tongue lolled out, spurts of hot white cum covered your face and mouth. He lets go so you could swallow down the bitter substance. After a few seconds of panting from the both of you, Shanks leaves you for a bit, as you hear the sound of his car door opening and rustling, Shanks comes back with a bag.

Grabbing some towels and wipes from the bag, he starts to clean you up, gently and lovingly, all the while praising you for your effort. Your mind was in turmoil after this sudden switch, your thoughts went back to what he said before. “I love you.” You wondered if he really did mean that, “There, all cleaned up, you did a great job, baby.” He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead and helped you on your feet, ushering you in the passenger seat once more. You slumped in the chair, inhaling the crisp clean of his air freshener and the leather seats.

“Now, where do you like to shop for clothes, baby?” You tilt your head at his question, making him chuckle; “What? I can’t let you go back home looking like that, now can I? Don’t worry though, I’ll pay for everything, just let me know what you want and where to go, sweetie.” He started up the car and began heading back down the hill. Turning the radio on on a nice volume, as the two of you rode in silence for most of the time. You look over to him alot, with fear, confusion, admiration, love, lust, and so many other emotions swirling around inside of you.

You needed answers but you didn’t know what questions you should ask first. Do you really love me? What was that about? Do you do this to other girls too? Why did you hurt me? What am I to you? However the only question that you ended up asking Shanks that night was; “Can I see you again soon?” Shanks looks at you, with that charming smile of his, and brushes his hand on your cheek; “Of course, baby, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

#₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #softy write #shanks x reader smut #shanks x reader #shanks headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece smut #please read the warnings

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emberfrostlovesloki · 3 months

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Kintsugi 金繕い [Spencer x Reader]

Photo credits Left (@mon-petit-coeur-noir) Center (@whoisspence) Right (@shakespearesdaughters)

Prompt: When the reader gets kidnapped for being friends with Spencer, she is mentally tormented to get back at Reid, and the reader and team, especially Spencer, have to find a way to communicate before it’s too late for her to make it out alive.

Pairing: Spencer x BAU-Fem!reader, Nerdy!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending]

Word Count: 15K

Content Warnings: Mention of death and sexual assault, mention of blood, mental torment [threat of assault, being unclothed, forced partial blindness - eyes glued open, forced partial deafness - loud music is played, degrading comments (reader)], physical harm [being cut with a knife, being put in a feezing unit, being beaten (reader)], distress, mentions of hospitals. If I missed any please let me know.

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! If you are a student on Summer break I hope you are having fun and relaxing! As always, I return with a novel of a Spencer story. This story was requested by an Anon, thank you so much, and I hope you like it! I do throw in a few Star Trek and literary references in this fic, but I try and explain them well. My requests are open, so feel free to request a fic from me if you like anytime! I do want to encourage you to read the tags as this is a bit dark for me (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see part two of the reader’s healing process with Spencer, let me know. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

y/n = your name

y/c/h = your color hair

y/l/n = your last name

t/c/s = tea/coffee/soda

y/n’s head was pounding. It was throbbing with pain and the hard floor and air itself seemed frigid. y/n clutched her sides and rubbed. She was grateful that their clothes were still on. Given the unsub the team was dealing with, it wasn’t what y/n had expected. But then again, the man the BAU had been trying to find in the last week had been full of surprises. He didn’t fit the early profile the team had created, and now y/n was alone and scared, but she pulled together her strength and courage and opened her eyes. This was her job and she’d been doing it for a year. She’d seen team members taken, and harmed, and sometimes almost died, but if there was one thing y/n knew about the BAU, it was that they cared for each other. Everyone on the team would be looking for her. They wouldn’t leave a stone unturned until they found her. That was what had drawn y/n to the Unit in the first place.

The BAU had done a joint operation with y/n’s Counterterrorism team where they were the unofficial data specialist and literary nerd. As soon as Derek had seen y/n and Reid together, he looked at Emily and said, “Well, this is going to be trouble,” to which both agents looked up and said in unison, “What?” It was during that case that Spencer had been in danger, and y/n was a bit too. Spencer had put himself in harm's way to ensure she was okay. Just seeing how the BAU responded with more than just professionalism, but also with care had sealed y/n into wanting a transfer. It wasn’t for another two years before that became a possibility. There was some issue with the documents that she had mailed to the Quanitco office, eventually, she sent fresh ones and drove them down herself.

It was that knowledge, that the team was looking, at that filled y/n with warmth and shared determination. She opened her eyes and realized why she was so cold. From the looks of things, the white cement floor, the fluorescent lighting, and the crusted blood on the ground, y/n was in a meat packing plant. She sniffled and rubbed her shivering torso as she opened her eyes and sat up. There were conveyor belts on the far side of the wall, along with sharp meat hooks hanging from the ceiling. This setting would make sense given that the bodies of the three victims that had the team come down in the first place had seemed very fresh, even though they had passed a few weeks ago. The thought of the women and what the unsub had done to them and their bodies made y/n want to vomit.

They had been killed excruciatingly. Not only had they been tortured, but they’d been assaulted as well. With this in mind, and possibly in her future, y/n moved away from the dried blood on the floor, not sure who or what it was from. y/n wondered how long the man kept his victims alive. The team had hypothesized that he was a sadist and loved long drawn out kills, to watch the victims suffer. The unsub had a type, and y/n fell into it. There was a sound at the far side of the room, and y/n moved to the center of the space. There was no point in cowering in the corner. She decided to face the unsub head-on. Show no fear, even if she was filled with it to the brim. The man’s outline filled the door making it unable for her to see him, but y/n knew that would change soon enough.

As y/n waited to test wits with the man in front of her, the rest of the BAU, many miles away had set up a tent at the Kansas State Fair. Their team tent looked much less adorned than those of the food and game vendors with their bright colors and light. The satellite pop-up of the BAU and police presence were needed to gather information and vet the people leaving the fair since y/n had been taken. Their tent was on the far side of the fair. It would be unassuming if there weren’t loads of cops, police cars, state troopers cars, and a SWAT team all moving in and out of the space. Aaron and Rossi were heading up the operation and working through the bureaucratic tape and interdepartmental things that would otherwise slow the team down. There was a tension in the air that permeated each member of the BAU. It was palpable with all of them, but with Spencer, it was coming off him wave after wave. The lithe agent was with Emily and Derek, walking through the empty mirror house where y/n had been abducted. As Reid, Em, and Morgan move through each cranny and trick door for guests and employees. He caught his reflection in mirror after mirror and it all felt like a sick joke. Reid was absorbed in his own reflection for a moment before he heard Derek’s voice cut through his brain fog. Spencer snapped up and moved toward his friend's voice. Emily and Morgan were kneeling down next to an employee entrance. Reid was upset and angry, and the sight of a blood stain on the bright floor along with a few strands of y/n’s y/c/h should have made him feel good, but the blood only meant that y/n was already hurt, and probably being hurt more at this point made his stomach churn.

Emily looked at Spencer’s serious face and re-asked “Can we get a blood sample vial, Spence?” The question finally registered with Reid and he replied sharply, “I’ll do it. Can you just step aside a bit?” Derek’s brow furrowed. He knew that Spencer had a thing for y/n. Everyone on the team did except, infuriatingly, the pining agents themselves. But that didn’t give Spencer a reason to be hot at them. Morgan replied, “Easy Spence. We’re doing everything we can.” Spencer couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Well not enough to keep her safe when she was with you both.” At that statement, both Prentiss and Derek stood and looked at Spencer disappointingly, like a child who had said a naughty word they had been told not to say. They both moved back and their physical reactions made Spencer drop his head in shame. He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, and said to the floor, “I’m sorry.” He was trying to hold back all the emotions. Emotions he often didn’t let himself feel. He looked up at his friends and continued, “I’m sorry. I… I don’t think I know how to deal with this. I know it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything, and you both care about y/n as much as I do. I let my emotions get away from me.”

Morgan and Emily looked at each other as Reid said that they both liked y/n as much as he did, knowing it wasn’t true. Yes, they both loved y/n, but not like Spencer, and that realization justified Reid's words for them. They both moved forward. Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a firm squeeze, and said, “It’s okay, kid. Now, have you got that vial Em needs?” Reid released a relieved breath, pulled a sample kit out of his shoulder bag, and handed it over to Emily who was back on her knees near the evidence. As she began taking the sample, Morgan and Spencer moved down the narrow trap door to see where it led and to see if there were more clues about the unsub or y/n’s location.

As the duo moved down the narrow hallway, it became apparent that y/n must have been unconscious or tightly bound as she was being taken away by the unsub. There would have been more of a struggle on y/n’s part if she’d been awake or free, but none of the boxes or supplies for the House of Mirrors seemed to be broken or messed up. Derek didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing, and Reid’s mind was moving too fast, even he couldn’t keep up with it. He knew the team needed to find all of the physical evidence first, to vet the guests and vendors that were leaving for information, but that could be a slow process and all Spener wanted to do was use his full brain power to think about the victimology, update the profile, make a map pinpointing the locations of the victims, but this process had to be done first. The team was a member short, and they all knew the police weren’t helpful in situations like this, so Reid sucked it up and kept moving beside Morgan, trying desperately to still his brain for once.

Back in the freezer, y/n looked as the mountain of a man came into view. He looked disheveled and red-faced. He wore jeans and a button-down T-shirt. y/n looked at him. She wanted him to make the first move, to understand him better -- his ticks, any weaknesses he had. Anything she could use against him. Force wasn’t an option right now, but she had her mind, and that was worth a lot. The unsub grinned and said, “This will be fun. You’re prettier than I expected. That look of fear on your face, he’s going to love that.” y/n swallowed and replied, “‘He?’ Don’t you mean you. You’re the one taking and killing the woman. And thanks for the compliment.” The man chuckled and said, “You have a mouth on you alright, just like I expected. Of course, he’d like you the little bitch. And who he is doesn’t matter. For now at least. But it will be fun. Not for you of course, but for me it will be. I’ll get so, so very much pleasure from you. I just didn’t expect you to be so cute. It’s a shame, really.”

y/n frowned. She couldn’t tell if this was dissociation or multiple personalities, but the constant mention of her looks and another person was odd. There hadn’t been any signs of a second unsub, nor was there any other DNA evidence on the victims. As the man made a fast step toward y/n, she moved away from him. This only had the unsub smile and laugh as he moved toward y/n again and said, “You can’t run away from me little bird. You’re only going to make it worse on yourself.” y/n stopped at that. y/n stopped immediately. She swallowed thickly. If she was someone else, like Hotch, Morgan, or Spencer who had the presence and size to act brave in a physical altercation she would bluster and make herself big and threatening. But y/n wasn’t them and didn’t take risks like they did. Firstly, because even y/n assumed Morgan would be physically intimidated by the man’s size and bulk, secondly, y/n was still new to the BAU. Not that she hadn’t picked things up quickly or was good at the job, but it was still more difficult for her to pick up small tells or things like Reid or Emily could. Plus, it wouldn’t help her in signaling the team in some way if the first thing that happened to her was to be fully incapacitated.

The unsub noticed her submissive posture and liked it saying, “That’s it little bird, now I need you to get out of your things.” y/n looked up at him, biting her lip asking, “Why? What happened to the bird when it gets defeathered, defrocked?” y/n knew what to expect next, assault was part of this man’s MO and if she could postpone that, she sure as hell would. The man laughed again, harsh and cruel, like he was in on a joke that she wasn’t. The man replied, “I’m not going to break you like the others. I could, and I will if you give me too much bratty attitude, but that’s not the plan. All of that other shit with the women and how I treated them, that was to get your attention. Their attention. And I don't think physically breaking you would hurt him either, but don’t test me. However, for now, just take off your clothes and I won’t touch you, that way.”

y/n didn’t look forward to being undressed in front of anyone. It was uncomfortable for her to be vulnerable with their body like that, even with close friends like Penelope and JJ. In fact, a memory of Emily trying to get her to buy a more revealing swimsuit for the summer popped into her mind and the coaxing it took for y/n to finally buy and wear the skimpy swimwear. Of course, Spencer’s attempt to not look over her body with rapt attention had made the discomfort worth it. When the unsub grabbed at her shirt, y/n began undoing the button of her shirt. It took longer than she expected as her hands shook with cold and fear. y/n expected the man to ask her to move faster, but he didn’t. Again, he seemed to have a sick enjoyment of watching her cower. y/n took this opportunity to think and think fast. The man had said he was trying to get the team's attention. Not only the team’s attention but ‘his’ attention. So that narrowed it down to four people. That was something to go off of. Second, this unsub was someone y/n would have remembered if she’d dealt with him before, but she didn’t, so he was someone from before her time. This was some kind of lesson. There was only a small glimmer of hope that y/n had for her health, both physical and mental because if the unsub wanted to break a member of the team through her, it was going to take more than just taking them captive and keeping them in a poorly regulated freezing unit.

At this point, y/n was down to her undergarments, and she wondered how pushing the man would be. How quickly he would react, and with how much force? There was only one way of finding out, and she intended to know this early on. This way she could better gauge her actions and submissiveness. If that turned out to be a thing he liked, then she could use it as a small way of gaining control later. So y/n stopped when she stepped out of her pants, and the man quickly changed his demeanor saying, “Don’t stop now. I may not be interested in you, but I know he is, and it’s no good if we’re keeping this at a PG-13, scary movie rating. I need this to be the unrated version birdie, so get out of those panties and bra.” y/n now knew that the man’s emotions were volatile and could change on a dime. That was all she needed to know to get out of her last things. The cold chilled y/n further now that she was nude.

y/n couldn’t stop herself as she moved her hands to cover her nudity. The unsub bent down not even noticing her discomfort as he picked up her undergarments and examined them to an odd degree muttering, “Do you think he knows you match your bra to your panties? Because he will soon enough.” y/n stepped back, slowly onto one of the patches of dried blood which made y/n cringe. The serious ‘he’ was back and the expression of rage on the man’s face was so intense that y/n wanted to run to the door to try and escape. Whatever this man who had supposedly wronged the unsub, there was a vitriolic rage for him simmering underneath the surface. Before y/n even had the chance to fully think through making a run for it, the man stood up and whipped his hand over y/n’s face so hard that the blow threw her back and into one of the metal supports of the conveyor belts.

The pain in the side of y/n’s face shocked her into stillness as her jaw clicked oddly and she grunted in pain. Again, before y/n could react, the unsub was on her again. He kicked her torso, legs, and face with the steel tips of his boots breaking the skin every time another blow landed on her prone body. Along with the damage to her front, every time the man’s foot met y/n’s bare flesh, her back was pushed back and harder into the sharp corner of the convey belt. y/n quickly figured out that the unsub was being fast and efficient. When she looked up at his face, he seemed bored as he landed each kick. There was a callous disinterest in what he was doing. He seemed to not be affected at all by what was happening to his victim. Due to this y/n began planning accordingly. Shifting her position slightly so the blows landed on a more padded part of her body, and along with giving her lower back a break by shifting the hits to her lower shoulders, this meant her breasts getting hit, which was not pleasant in the least, but it was somewhere new, and somewhere padded by a bit more.

y/n felt jostled to the core and rattled to the bone. The pain she was experiencing was blinding and she couldn’t think about much more than trying to protect her face and groin, both of which got hit anyway. What felt like an eternity’s worth of blows ended as soon as it began, and all y/n could do was lie on the ground and grit her teeth against the pain. Her attempt to stay strong physically and mentally was already being tested, but she refused to lick her wounds in front of her captor. If this was about being broken, then she wasn’t yet. The unsub knelt with a grunt and jerked y/n’s face up and into the light, looking at the bruising on her face examining her like a piece of meat for consumption. Something about her battered appearance didn’t suit his liking and he said like a painter finishing a masterpiece, “Just a bit more, right there.” His large stubby pointer finger gesticulated at her lower face and he gripped her hair more tightly and rammed her head onto the floor splitting her lip and jarring her jaw again.

With that, the man dropped y/n’s face, stood, and walked straight out of the room. Just for the fun of it, he kept the door open for three minutes as he watched y/n turn onto her side to find any place that was comfortable enough to breathe. y/n looked at the open door and the look of delight on the man’s face as he stood by the entrance, and y/n realized that this was going to be her form of torment, an option in view but not accessible. When the large metal door finally swung shut and was locked from the outside, y/n closed her eyes and tried to use her brain. There would be time to assess her physical damage later, for now, she could use one thing that she had. She made mental notes: that the unsub walked with a limp, that he had a New York accent, that he wasn’t over fifty years old. He also had a large size footprint to match his large stature. He also had a mermaid tattoo on his left ankle. Next, she thought about his mental patterns. He was volatile and not afraid to cause harm, but he took no pleasure in doing so to her. It was about a certain result. He had also said that he had only killed those other women, and eviscerated them, to get a man on the team's attention. y/n could work with that. Try and use that to her advantage. If only she could find out who the man was. As the pain took y/n over, and her brain shut down to the basic feeling of hurt and cold, y/n’s mind turned to Spencer. How I must have looked at the moment. Stressed, tired, on edge. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, even if it was for her. She wished she could pull him into a hug and say “It’s alright Spence. I’m holding on. I promise.” The last sentence would stay silent, but he’d know. Because he always knew her. And with that thought, y/n closed her eyes, curled in on herself, and attempted to rest.

The night was not pleasant for anyone but the unsub. But even Moore Eiarty, the unsub, was worried that his plan wouldn’t succeed, That he couldn’t break the genius of Spencer Reid. But all the pieces were finally in place, and now it was time to play. As the team finally got through vetting the people in the park, they got back to work. The main thing they had to go off of was that one of the performers, the Giant Man, was missing. He’d been added last minute to the tour and there had barely been time to get his paperwork in order before the Kansas Fair began. And it wasn’t until that evening that they discovered that the man, Mr. M. Earity, had very well-forged documents. Not just one, but all of them. That gave Penelope a lot to work on while the team took the angle of victimology and reworked the profile. The BAU had moved back to the police precinct except for Derek and Rossi. Spencer knew that Morgan was taking this especially hard because y/n had been taken while she was with him, but Spence’s head was too full of ideas and concerns to worry about how the others felt right now.

Aaron watched the team do what the team did. Perhaps they were working a bit more hectically than normal, but this was one of their own on the line and Hotch would rather die before he stopped working to get y/n back. As he looked at Spencer, writing on over seven whiteboards with three coffees on the table, he considered that Reid might also die if they didn’t find y/n soon. That thought sat with the Unit Chief, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later. This felt especially pertinent to this case, though he didn’t know why yet. Nothing much came in terms of developments for a few hours. JJ released a statement for the press, Derek and Rossi returned to the team, and the Fair was shut down for legal safety. The tip line ran nonstop and everyone felt the weight of time. It wasn’t until 3:00 AM that the first real forward momentum was given to the team, and target to Spencer specifically.

It came in the form of an email from an unlisted account. It was labeled Urgent Dr. Reid - Re:y/n, y/l/n. Spencer looked at the email and decided to open it. He was tired, and his brain was beginning to numb at all the stimuli that were assaulting his mind. What he saw once he opened that email made him drop his coffee and whip his hand over his mouth in horror. Aaron and Emily were in the room with Spencer, and they both noticed their colleague’s distress. Prentiss moved to Reid’s side and looked at the laptop as well. Her mouth went slack and she whispered, “Oh my God. H-hotch…” It didn’t take Aaron more than four strides to see what had both of these friends looking like they were going to be sick. As soon as he saw the first picture of y/n, naked, heavily bruised and bloody, and head down he knew why Reid and Em had reacted as they had. y/n’s hands were forced above her head with zip ties and strung to a hook hanging from the ceiling. The position she was in had her knees barely brushing the floor which meant that all of her weight was in her wrists, elbows, and shoulders.

y/n wore a pained expression, and Hotch’s eyes darted up for a second out of proprietary. He didn’t want to have to see y/n undressed. To be forced into such a humiliating position and know others, people she trusted, would see it made Aaron pause. It hurt. He composed himself and said as professionally as he could, “We need this on the big screen. Em, can you get on that? Reid, is there any text in the body?” Prentiss and Spencer came back to themselves, though it took Spence a moment longer, and they registered their Leader’s questions. Emily nodded and moved to pull down the projector in the room and pushed some of the whiteboards Reid had been using aside; meanwhile, Reid scrolled past the 25 attached photos to where there was some text. He read it in a millisecond and said, “Yes there is. I’ll get Gacia on Zoom while you get the rest of the team in here.” Hotch nodded and took one more second to look at Spencer to see if he was okay. This was targeted at him, which was both a good and a bad thing, but right now, the smartest member of the team looked determined to get to the bottom of this, so Hotch moved to the door to get everyone else into the conference room.

After the team looked at all of the photos and the attached email, they split into smaller sub-groups to work more efficiently. Aaron and Emily agreed to look at all of the images with a more critical eye. They would break down every angle and shot and bruise on y/n’s body. The one positive thing that the pictures did show was that y/n was alive. Or at least she had been, and given the unsub’s propensity to draw out his kills, there was a good chance that y/n was still alive. The time stamp on the email had been from only a half hour ago and didn’t appear altered. Hotch assigned Spencer and JJ to look at the body of the email. He gave this task to Spencer so he could do something he excelled at. He was the best linguist and forensic document analyst in the FBI after all. JJ was also excellent at identifying patterns in writing and could help Spencer. It also gave Reid an out for not having to look at y/n’s prone and exposed body.

Aaron as the leader took that burden of looking at y/n with Emily because Prentiss was also very good at compartmentalizing her emotions related to her friendships and the job. Derek was working with Garcia, who was on overdrive to find the source of the email and pin down a location along with about ten thousand other things. She’d gone as far as calling in Janet, another Technical analyst at Quantico to come and help her because two computer processors and brains were always better than one. Lastly, Rossi coordinated with the police on-the-ground operation of searching for y/n. Even though a lot of moving pieces were happening at the same time, the BAU did what it always did -- work with excellence and as a team. Aaron looked at his team for a moment, proud of them. He was worried about Spencer, who was more on edge than normal. Hotch turned his eyes back to the screen, he’d check in on the genius in a few hours, for now, he had a difficult job to do.

After a few hours that slipped by like grains of sand in an open palm, the team had discovered a few things. The first thing that Spencer and JJ broke down was the email which read:

I have waited for a long time to get this opportunity. While I have watched you all, the most famous and infamous team in the FBI, I have been looking at one of you in particular. I wonder if you know who you are yet? Let me give you a hint. Last I saw you, you were just a child not even weaned on crimes or violence. Do you know now? Estranged from your friend, I wonder if you’re floundering like I have been before because of you. Sorry if this is all a bit obtuse, but this is fun, and I’m going to draw it out for you. Try not to get too excited yet, the best is yet to come. Rest assured that your friend will face the consequences of knowing you so well. Only when I see you so ruined as I have been ruined will I be happy. Yesterday you were so determined to catch me, do you feel that way now, or are you feeling the fear in your veins? You can find me eventually, but not before I find you. Other things may happen too. Under my control, I may make y/n do anything I want. Don’t worry though, I don’t have plans like I had for the others, this is different. Ready now. Ready now. Enough of waiting for you, and this moment. I’d start praying for y/n, and you, my friend. Dare we should meet in person and you’ll see what I’ve done to her and you’ll finally taste my revenge.

It didn’t take Spencer more than a minute to read the ‘secret message of’ I will destroy you, Dr. Reid, in the unsubs email. He almost laughed at the grandiose nature of the writing. JJ then pointed out that y/n wasn’t even mentioned until the end of the rambling message. This told the team that this kidnapping was all about Spencer, as it was clear from the email, and had little to do with y/n. That y/n was being used as a tool to get at Reid. Of course, the pictures of y/n who was bruised heavily all over her body, showed that the unsub was still willing to inflict serious bodily harm on her. But this fact made Emily and JJ feel slightly better.

Spencer had come up with at least seventeen facts, grammatical patterns, and hints at a personality based on egomania. After Reid had said about five of them in the span of a few minutes, Derek gave him a look and Spencer stopped talking. Aaron and Emily then broke down the patterns of bruising and how the depth of the day-old bruising was likely from one sustained moment in time. That there didn’t seem to be layer upon layer of bruising on y/n’s body. Also, from the look of it, there didn’t seem to be any sign of sexual assault. Hotch had caught onto the dark red-rimmed circles under y/n’s eyes, indicating that she hadn’t slept much if at all since she had been taken nearly twenty-four hours ago. It was also pretty easy for Aaron to tell that y/n was being kept in some kind of industrial freezing unit. This was concerning as staying anytime long-term in such a cold space could lead to frostbite and long-term nerve damage.

After the team had gone through the information and made a start at a new profile that focused mostly on the unsubs' hatred for Spencer, this put even more pressure on Spence. The rest of the team took a small break to just breathe or step outside or get a drink of the bad coffee from the office breakroom, Reid stayed behind and furiously wrote in his notepad and looked at the photos of y/n while biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he broke the soft pink skin. Spencer turned off the bright light to let his eyes and at least his occipital cortex have a break. The rest of his body was working pell mill. Derek moved back to the room ten minutes later and Spencer was leaning, his hands forward, and head bowed toward the wooden table. He looked like he might collapse. Morgan could see his friend’s outline backlit against the brightness of the screen. He looked frailer than normal, skinnier than his usual tall body. Derek knew this was hard for Spencer because it was y/n who had been taken, and it was because of him. Even if Spencer hadn’t realized he had feelings for y/n yet, he still felt the weight of what was happening to her because of him. Morgan entered the room with a cup of coffee and said gently, “Spencer, I brought you some coffee.” Reid hummed softly like he hadn’t really heard Morgan and Derek said, “Reid,” a bit louder. Spencer’s head shot up and toward Derek and his hands gripped the side of the table harder, knuckles turning white. Spencer snapped a “What?” at Morgan before taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders. Morgan didn’t mind Spence’s tone now. It made sense.

Derek moved into the room and said, “I brought you some coffee. Maybe we could step outside for a minute? Get some fresh air?” Reid dropped his head again and he said mournfully, “I can’t rest right now. I have to figure out who has y/n. I don’t know who the unsub is, but they know me and I don’t want y/n to have to pay the price for that.” Derek sighed and replied, “Spence, y/n would never blame you for being her friend, for being someone special to her.” Reid sniffled and replied, “She won’t thank me if she’s dead and neither will I.” Spencer’s voice broke off halfway through his last sentence. Morgan stepped forward and placed his hand on Reid’s shoulder. He gave is a gentle squeeze and replied, “Well thinking like that isn’t going to save her. And you need that super processor of a brain of yours to cool off before it shuts down on it’s own. And y/n is a tough cookie, she’s going to make it Reid. If there’s anyone who can find her, it’s you. And if you start letting this guy get to your head, then he’s already won. And we don’t let fuckers like that win. I know y/n sure as shit won’t thank you for that. Now let's go outside.” Spence allowed himself to be led out of the dark room, and Morgan closed the door behind them.

y/n was beyond tired, she dozed off on and off as she lay in the corner of the room. She was too sore to move around. She did take a look at her surroundings every time she woke abruptly from an unknown sound. She’d look for the man who called himself Mr. M., or to shift from side to side to try and increase her circulation and shift the pain to a new place if that was possible. Much to Mr. M.’s credit, he didn’t seem to enjoy stringing y/n up to the ceiling and he’d taken her down as soon he’d finished taking what seemed like an endless stream of photos. He’d positioned her more like a clay statue looking at angles and composition than as if she was a human in pain. This gave y/n an indication that he might be a sociopath given that he seemed immune to her pained sounds as he adjusted her body again and again. He’d muttered “He’s going to love these. To see what I’ve made of you so far.” y/n opted to stay silent. To see if she could get any more information from the man, but he didn’t do much more than complain about the lighting and make comments about the ‘he’ in question. y/n highly considered that the male member of the team could be Rossi or Aaron, whom Mr. M was muttering on about. M seemed to address this person with such dignified authority that would fit those two people on the team. But that didn’t make sense, as y/n didn’t think Hotch or Rossi held her in any higher standard than the rest of the BAU. Yes, she respected Aaron as a leader and he respected her back. And surely he was beating himself up for not looking out for her, but it didn’t seem to fit with the rage that M felt toward this person.

It seemed even more outlandish for the ‘he’ to be Rossi. Rossi was like a father figure to y/n. He had helped her really learn the ropes of the team and cases. Especially the paperwork after a case was finished, but if Mr. M wanted to hurt Rossi, he’d surely know to find one of his Ex-wives or someone closer to Dave. It was the odd reverence that the unsub continued using that threw y/n off of the real person he was targeting. The next interaction that y/n had with the man would clear things up for her significantly, and give her an option to use her brain to help the team find her.

Mr. M came back sooner than y/n had wished. Her exhaustion and numbness made not only her body weak but her brain slow. When she saw that he was holding her underwear and a knife, she sat up and crawled back against the wall clumsily, not liking that combination of objects together. The man snorted and said, “Trying to fly away bird, I’m going to clip your wings if you do that too much. Then you won’t be able to run, ever.” y/n slowed her movements, not willing to test the huge man in front of her. y/n swallowed thickly and looked from Mr. M.’s passive face to his hands holding the mismatched objects. The intimate and the violent. The man watched her eyes, tracked their movements, and when he saw where they landed he genuinely laughed and said, “I told you before, I didn’t like doing those things to those girls. It was to make a point. Touching people intimately is my least favorite idea of a ‘good time.’ I just plan on making him think I’ve had you that way. Send him a little surprise gift and watch as he tries to process his loss of that part of you.” Somehow this response baffled y/n’s sleepless brain even more. Who the hell on the team wouldn’t be upset if she got assaulted in that way? If fact y/n could imagine each member of the team taking Mr. M out in rather lurid ways. It was stupid, but it gave y/n comfort and she even smiled softly at the thought of Derek beating the man up, or Spencer setting some kind of trap of wits for him. M. saw her happy look, and struck her face with the back of his fist, now only a foot from her body. He sneered and said, “‘he’ won’t be as happy as you are right now when he gets our present.” M grabbed her left arm, placed the tip of the knife on her forearm, and pressed it into her skin. The man drew a line down her wrist.

The red liquid bubbled up and out of the wound like a stream. The cold of the freezer numbed the pain a bit. In fact, the feeling of the hot blood dripping down y/n’s arm was warming and she would have spread it over her arm if she was just a bit more tired. However, she didn’t have the chance as M grabbed her arm in a vice grip, and with his other hand, grabbed her panties. He ran the crotch of her undergarments over her fresh cut, spreading blood over the inside seam. He then dropped them to the ground and turned her arm over. He pinched at the wound, causing the bleeding to increase and easing large red droplets onto her already-soiled underwear.

y/n felt disgusted at being used this way and said to fill in the oppressive silence, “I don’t think Derek will find this appalling, mainly he’d going to think it’s gross as fuck.” y/n hadn’t really meant Morgan, she’d just said the first name that popped into her head. As tough as Derek was, he wasn’t great with blood, just like Gracia. The slip was the best thing y/n could do as M dropped her arm and looked at her like she’d grown a second head. He shook his head and said, “Lord, and I thought ‘he’ liked you for your brain. It seems you may not have one up there. Dr. Reid is who I am referring to bird. Not agent Morgan. Derek couldn’t figure this out if you put all the pieces in front of him on a board.”

y/n was astonished for a moment. Not only at the apparent racism of Mr M. but his other statement as well: Spencer! This was about Spencer! How the hell this guy knew and had been wronged by her best friend on the team was beyond her. Certainly, Reid would have told her about him if they’d had run-ins in the past. They spent so much time together that they basically knew everything about each other. The weariness and pain were starting to get to y/n and she muttered as she closed her eyes, “Why would Spence care about this, he’s seen me on my period before. He’s gotten my sanitary products before, hell I bitch at him when I get cramps, and he takes it.” M stopped looking at the work of art which was y/n’s blood-soaked underwear and said, “You really are hopeless. And I don’t see the appeal to the good Doctor. He’s in love with you and you can’t even see it. Hopeless bird, I’ll take care of that though. You won’t have to think for much longer.” The vitality that y/n had been lacking came back in a rush of heat as M said that Spencer was in love with her. y/n sat up and took her injured arm and cradled it to her chest. The pain finally registered in her synapses. She let out a prolonged breath and said. “You think Spencer is in love with me? That’s a bit of a stretch.” y/n knew in the back of her mind that this might get her hurt more, or killed, but she was finally getting answers and perhaps if she had more answers she could do something with that. Actually use her brain, which the unsub had insulted she didn’t.

M sighed and replied as if this was a normal conversation, “Bird, the data adds up. Dr. Reid puts himself in forty-three percent more danger when you are in a dangerous postion on a case. He puts himself in the line of fire for you over and over. At least five times by the records I’ve seen. Not only that, the chronically lonely young man who shuns women’s attention chooses to spend time with you above his other friends, even the likes of Morgan or Penelope. If that’s not the start of a crush, then I don’t know what is.” y/n looked up at the man with awe. Not so much at his intellectual prowess that he seemed to think he had, but at how stupid he sounded. Perhaps, maybe, maybe, there were some more feelings between y/n and Spencrs than friendship, but the other things he said were just crap. His use of statistics, and characterizing Reid as a lonely hermit was laughable. However, y/n was more aware than ever now, and this time she kept their mouth shut. She knew that saying those things out loud might likely get her knifed to death, and although the current situation was far from comfortable, she didn’t fancy dying. M hadn’t broken her yet, and now she was more determined than ever to live through this moment.

The unsub noted that y/n had calmed down slightly and said, “I’ll be back shortly. I can’t let you or him rest too often now. I need to pick up the pace, but I need to send this little gift his way. Any loving words you want to tell him with my little letter? Perhaps it will give the Doctor some comfort.” The man said it sardonically, but y/n pulled herself together and tried to do her best acting and used a sorrowful tone as she said, “Tell him I’m sad it was my first time like this. I’d wished that we’d done it in Tanagra when we had the chance, but he knew I wasn’t ready. I won’t be ready.” y/n let the words slip off her tongue like she’d said them with a longing sadness and it put M at unease to see the odd shift in emotions; however, he shrugged his shoulders and replied cooly, “I’ll be sure to relay your sentiments.”

Once the man had left the room with the knife, y/n lay back exhausted. The unsub had said he’d be back shortly, but maybe he was playing a game and he’d just leave her there to rot or starve. Either way, y/n needed to use this renewed time to think, and not just about the fact that she was trying to come to terms with the fact that she might love Spencer more than she’d allowed herself to do before. She needed to leverage this situation and not let those feelings overwhelm her. She’d already hopefully set one clue and one trap, she’d just need a bit more information to let the trap work. She pondered these things as she rubbed her skin which was slowly losing sensation as the minutes ticked by.

When the package arrived at the precinct, the team was more prepared for it this time. The police stopped the carrier to ask him a plethora of questions while the team opened the box with some apprehension. Emily took on the role of the person who opened the box. Given the nasty surprise of the pictures of y/n in a state of complete undress in the first contact with the unsub, nobody wanted Spencer to get that kind of a shock again, even if the box was addressed to him alone. Inside the well-packaged cardboard parcel was a letter which Prentiss handed over to Morgan and then she pulled aside a good deal more pink tissue paper than was needed for the pair of underwear in the box. It took Emily and the team a moment to realize what they were given the blood had caked and dried, wrinkling the thin fabric into a distorted blob shape. The team looked at the item not so much with disdain as confusion. Some members of the BAU, JJ, Emily, and Penelope, had seen y/n in her underthings when they shared rooms in a busy hotel, but none of them, especially not Spencer, could immediately identify that they were y/n’s panties until M stated that directly, and implied that he’d done to y/n what he’d done to all his other victims before slowly killing them.

This information did seem to shock and horrify the team until Derek read this part of the letter aloud with a hint of awkwardness, “And the little bird has a song for the doctor ‘I’m sorry that this was my first time, and that she wishes you had both done it in Tanagra.’ How unfortunate for both of you that that wasn’t the case…” Spencer cut Derek off before he could go into more grotesque details from the letter about what the unsub had done to y/n by saying, “Wait, wait, say that again.” Morgan paused and the team looked at Reid with questioning expressions. Derek repeated the last sentence, and Reid let out a soft breath in relief as he confidently said, “He didn’t touch her,” then under his breath, “thank God.” The BAU was more baffled than ever, and JJ looked over at the soiled underwear now back in the box getting ready for processing by the forensics lab. With hesitation, JJ replied, “Spencer, y/n’s underwear is telling a different story, as does the bruising on her body”

The team was at a loss for what to think. y/n had been a reserved person far before she joined the team, and the reference that she might have had sex with Spencer, or wanted to have sex with Reid was not totally a shock, given that the BAU knew the two agents were in love, even if they didn’t. But for her to state it like that either showed signs of mental duress or something of that nature. It was just incredibly out of character for her to say anything like that to anyone, even the women on the team. Reid’s response was even more shocking as he said, “y/n’s had plenty of sex. She’s been in a lot of relationships before, so why would she say this was her ‘first time.’ That doesn’t make any sense. Also, I think she would have singled out something more extreme if she had been hurt in that way. It’s all too faux intellectual.” The team stood in stunned silence for a moment before Derek said, “And you and y/n talk about your sex lives often?”

Spencer flushed at the intrusive question, realizing that he was putting a lot out there about his and y/n’s friendship. Things they may not have shared with other members of the team and kept between themselves. But this was a case where revealing some private details could save y/n’s life, and Spencer would rather die than lose y/n, so he replied steadily, “Yes. Sometimes. When we hang out we talk about our relationships. Why they worked or didn’t? How we’re, different.” Spence omitted the line, “How we can be hard to love.” He meant it more for himself than y/n, even though she echoed that sentiment whenever he brought it up. Spence never really got that. When they’d lay sprawled out under a blanket arguing about the symbolism in Dr. Who, or what the best adaptation of Jane Austen was, he felt like loving y/n would be the easiest thing in the world. Of course, he’d never said that to her either. The team was still silent when Reid came back from his internal journey and Hotch, who most of the time came forward and realized patterns and trends asked, “And Tanagra? Is it a small island or something? I’ve never heard of it before.” Spencer’s eyes moved up and he said, “It’s a reference to an episode of Star Trek we both like called ‘Darmok.’” The team looked at Reid for further clarification because, unlike Spencer and y/n, they didn’t go on overnight watches of Star Trek the Next Generation.

Again, Reid reddened but patiently explained, “In the episode Captain Picard gets sent to a planet without any weapons. There’s another alien there as well. The Enterprise crew thinks it is some sort of setup, as does Captain Picard. But as it turns out, Picard and the alien, Dathon, need to come together to fight a common enemy. They end up beating the enemy, but Dathon dies. The moral is that they had to find understanding to become united, not only as fighters but as a species.” After Reid quickly gave his recap highlighting the plot and moral of the episode, the team, with the new information seemed to be revitalized, and put at ease. It was just a sliver of hope because y/n had managed to gain some way of communicating with them. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Alright, Reid, and you Morgan take the letter. If y/n is sending any other covert messages then you should be able to find them.” Hotch felt the weight of pressure from this case on his shoulders and raised a hand to his forehead closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Rossi saw his friend's distress and continued the conversation, “Aaron and I will go and check some of the places Garcia flagged as potential locations that y/n could be kept. JJ, you and Emily accompany the forensics team and get us the information once they have some, stat. Is that really y/n’s blood, are there any toxins present, all that? Okay?” Everyone nodded. Now that they all had a direction to go and a specific task to do, it felt more manageable.

Despite the bright light and thanks to sheer exhaustion, y/n had managed to get a few hours of sleep at some point after being cut by M. She woke with the sound of the door opening. y/n had lost all track of time at this point. There were no windows to tell if it was night or day, and her circadian rhythms were off. Logically y/n knew that it couldn’t have been more than a few days, but at this point, it felt like a week at least. The constant stress, hunger thirst, and cold had drained her so much that she struggled to get up to a seated position to see what her captor was doing this time. M seemed uninterested in y/n, but he did glance at her, the door, and then at her again, as if taunting, “Try me.” The man had brought in a bigger load of items this time. Thanks to his size and strength, he could hold multiple trash bags and a backpack which he could handle all in one trip.

y/n watched M with apprehension and fear as he pulled out a multitude of lights and stands. M set up the lights like a makeup influencer might. M set what looked like extra bright lights in a square formation only a few feet off the ground. y/n bit her lip. If the man was planning on filming something, mainly her, she would be so close to the ground that it would be uncomfortable for him to have to lean down like that. The setup seemed to make no sense, and y/n didn’t like that. In interrogation training, she, along with new FBI agents, were instructed to mentally prepare for what was going to happen to them to better not spill state secrets. However, in this scenario, she couldn’t guess what would happen and it really wasn’t about her. It was about what her deteriorating mental and physical state would do to Spencer. She was important to the extent that she was important to Spencer.

The unsubs plan became clear as he pulled out a makeshift stand that looked like a prop from a horror film where someone’s eyes get removed. The stand, which M set down and then slotted the wooden frame into was so heavy that even he grunted as he set it down with a loud clanking sound on the floor. y/n closed her eyes and began trying to move away and toward the exit. But y/n wasn’t fast enough. She felt like she was running in knee-deep water as she moved and was quickly grabbed by the hair and pulled to the center of the room. y/n muttered, “Please no, please…” Her cries fell on deaf ears as M bound her hands to the rough wooden post with zip ties so tight that they felt like the plastic was cutting into her wrists. y/n dipped her head down but it was jerked up again as M set her chin on a portion of wood with a cut out for her chin. Just close enough to the skin of her neck was a sharp piece of metal that would slice at her jaw and chin if she tried to move her head; effectively keeping it in place as the unsub lowered a heavy plate for her head and secured it with screws on either side of her face like a vice. When the lights were turned on they were so bright that y/n tried to pull her head back but was stopped by her constraints. Even with her eyes closed the light was searing hot into her retinas and there was no espacing it. Even though the light was bright, y/n took this time to try and pry more information from the unsub as he moved close by her.

y/n asked with false confidence, “Why do you hate him so much. He certainly doesn’t talk about you.” y/n appealed to his sense of ego which worked. She could hear his heavy footsteps fall silent. There was a long pause and M finally said, “I’d hurt you for that, but I’m planning on that already. If you think this is bad now just wait.”

The words were meant to intimidate y/n, but she knew there was nothing she could do right now but get info and try and relay it to the team. So she stayed firm and didn’t show how scared she felt. Again the silence seemed like a gulf between them but M liked the sound of his own voice and he continued, “And I don’t like the doctor because he bested me. And you did too funnily enough even though I don’t care about you. I applied to the FBI Academy twice. As a Vet with an interrogation specialization, I thought I was the perfect fit, but what happened? Jason Gideon picks some lousy, scrawny kid, and appoints him to the BAU straight out of college, and he didn’t even go to the academy when I DID. Then they hire some woman who ends up leaving under dubious circumstances anyway and then you you -- whore. I don’t know who you had to suck off to get onto that team but both you and the good doctor took a spot that I deserved. I got stuck working at a local college teaching government classes, but I was planning this too. I didn’t want it, but by God am I going to make the FBI regret picking either of you above me, because neither of you will be fit to serve when I’m finished? And I’m far far from finished with you. After M said this, he opened y/n’s right eyelid and instantly she was blinded further. It was with the full intensity of the lights on her that y/n did feel like she might be broken. She didn’t know if she could handle this. But the team stayed in her mind and she grit her teeth. She’d signed up for this, and y/n did her best to remain strong for as long as possible and not lose herself. Not yet, not when there was hope. And if that hope took the form of Spencer Reid, so let it be, it could hardly be a secret to her anymore anyway. Not after this.

By the time the team got their next message from Mr. M. a few things had happened. The first was that Hotch and Rossi had crossed out a few sectors and limited the range of where y/n was likely being held. The second was that Penelope had caught a red eye and came down from the Quanitco field office to be closer to the action. Lastly, Spencer and Derek had made a solid guess from the tone of both letters that the unsub was likely in the military or the police force and had changed career paths to something like office work or business. This would explain his blunt prose yet stilted attempt at sounding academic or over-intelligent. The team was unprepared for when loud music blasted in their ears when Penelope opened the unlisted video link on her computer. Everyone covered their ears, and Garcia quickly turned down the volume. The team watched in horror, and Pen almost felt like she was going to be ill as the unsub circled y/n with a handheld camera. He zoomed in on y/n’s eyes which seemed glued open and directly facing a very bright light.

y/n was panting like she couldn’t breathe and she hardly looked alive anymore. Not that she wasn’t alive, just that her face was either so pained or slack with the torment that she was being put through that she couldn’t take anymore. All eyes were glued to the gruesome sight and it took a moment for anyone to notice that the music had cut out and the unsub was speaking. Garcia let out a sharp breath, skipped the video back ten seconds, and then raised the volume again. Once the music was cut, and in a calm voice M stated, “Smile little bird, you’re on camera. Have anything to say to the doctor?” y/n’s mouth moved for a moment before she let out a small breath and screamed in a worn and hoarse voice, “Oedipus and his lover, Mr. Dimmesdale was great at his job.” y/n cut herself off with a lot of coughing at the effort of even speaking. Even trying to say something. M pulled the camera back to get a better wide angle of y/n as the unsub said, “Isn’t she great? She sings such a pretty song. I hope you’re enjoying it doctor because I don’t know if she’ll be singing much longer.”

While most of the team paid attention to what the unsub was saying as a coping mechanism of not having to fully process the mental agony that y/n was going through, Emily paid closer attention. Suddenly Prentiss said loudly, “Roll it back Pen. y/n is mouthing something while the unsub is talking. I’ve almost made it out. I just need to see it once more.” The team, who was looking at Spencer to interpret what y/n had just signaled, and some of whom feared that y/n’s mind was already cracking beyond repair, looked back at the screen as Garcia went back once more. Penelope muted Mr. M, and everyone’s attention went back to y/n, who was clearly mouthing something. Prentiss said softly, and then more loudly, “There are four lights?” Hearing this Spencer couldn’t stop the tears that came to his eyes with relief, and he sagged with those words. Derek and Rossi helped support Spencer, and the team huddled around him as he brushed the tears aside and said, “She’s okay. She’s saying she’s okay with the ‘four lights’ line. He hasn’t ‘broken’ her yet. At least not her will….” Reid couldn’t stop himself from saying, like it was an inside thing between just y/n and him, “It’s another Star Trek thing.”

Another thrill rang through the team at this news. They knew y/n was strong, but she was also a good actress as she had played up her first statement. It became less and less of a surprise that y/n and Reid had spent so much time together. That they knew each other so well. This interaction was just solidifying what they had already assumed. But the picture of y/n’s eyes glued open and looking at the bright light also stayed with the team. Reid had his hands in his hair in frustration now trying to parse out the clues that y/n had left him, but he couldn’t fully match those pieces of information with any one person he knew. Dr. Reid did have some enemies, he did work for the FBI after all, but he didn’t think about them like that often. He didn’t just have people hating him enough to go and kidnap and torture the person he cared about the most. His brain didn’t process things like that even though he had calculated the risk every member of the team took with each case. And he did make sure y/n’s score was lowered thanks to him. But it wasn’t clicking because his brain was doing too much. Reid had jotted down a list of people that might come after him for various reasons and he’d given it to everyone in the BAU to see if they had any ideas. Of course, Penelope had made a whole spreadsheet and also found all the information about each person on the list as well. Spencer had gone over those fifteen names thousands of times now and was doing it again, trying to expand it to make something fit.

Emily finally broke his train of thought and asked, “Spence, what about the other things y/n said? Is that more Star Trek stuff? It honestly sounded like a foreign language to me.” Only after Prentiss said this did Spencer realize that the rest of the BAU didn’t get all the references or implications in y/n’s words. Reid took a steadying breath while he composed himself. Aaron and Rossi simultaneously pulled out legal pads and pens to try and keep up with Reid’s speaking speed. Spencer started with the first part of y/n’s shouted sentence, saying, “Well. It’s kind of Star Trek. You actually just made me think of that Emily.” The parts and y/n’s wit began to click better and Spence continued, “We have to go back to the thing y/n said in her first letter about Tangra.” The team nodded and Hotch was already writing furiously, his hand gripping white on the pen in his grasp. “So Pircard can’t understand Dathon because their species speak only in metaphors, so I think y/n is giving us, me, a metaphor about who the unsub is.” This is where Hotch jumped in and said, “Then it’s not directly related to Trek. Just a way of signaling something. The first part of her metaphor was a reference to Oedipus Rex.” Everyone’s eyes moved to Aaron and they seemed surprised, but he brushed off their apparent shock at his classical literature knowledge and continued for those who didn’t get the reference, “Oedipus Rex is a tragedy about a prophecy that the son of a king will end of killing his father and marrying his mother. The king is horrified and has his newborn son, Oedipus, arranged to be killed. The man meant to kill him takes pity on the baby and spares him, thus many years later the prophecy comes true.”

Spencer nodded along, and Garcia couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Wow, that’s really messed up.” Before Aaron could remind the technical analyst that it was a thousand-year-old work of fiction, Reid replied, “Yes, Oedipus does end up fulfilling the prophecy, but he didn’t want to. He doesn’t even know about it until later and he leaves his town to try and not fulfill his destiny, but he ends up doing that anyway. That’s why is a tragedy.” The team took in the information and Rossi offered, “So the unsub wanted to do the right thing but ended up doing the worst possible option?” Spence nodded along and then said, “And the second part about Mr. Dimmesdale being good at his job, I assume that’s a reference to The Scarlet Letter. Arthur Dimmessdale is the pastor who gets the protagonist pregnant and ends up being shunned from the Puritan society.” Emily asked, “So are we looking for someone who was thrown away for no reason? Or for doing something that appears bad?” Spencer nodded no, and thought through his list again, expanding it to the new parameters saying, “No. y/n specifically mentioned Dimmesdale, so I think we’re looking for a man. Clearly, Mr. Dimmesdale didn’t love his job because he did something that he shouldn’t have done either. He ends up having a breakdown because he can’t keep his secret. He ends up getting publicly humiliated.”

The team thought for a moment and Penelope asked, “So is there someone you ended up humiliating enough to do something this horrible? I mean, not intentionally, but like when you were in grad school or at the Bureau? Anything?” Reid shook his head unknowingly. He couldn’t place someone he had specifically wronged except for those he’d put in prison, and thankfully many of those men and women were already dead or sentenced to life, but a picture started forming in Hotch’s head. The Unit Chief stated, “I don’t think you’d know him. Or have even met him, yet? Oedipus didn’t know his father when he killed him. He only figured that out later. So this is more about what you did to him than anything else.” Dave looked at Aaron and asked, “Do you have an idea of who he is?” Hotch nodded and said, “Yes. This was while Jason was still here and you were ‘retired.’ You know Gideon hand-picked Spencer for the BAU much to the chagrin of the director. But it wasn’t only them, there were other members of the academy who wanted Reid’s spot. There were a few NATS that were more than flustered. Jason and I fielded quite a few complaints. There was one man in particular, an ex-Marine who threatened Gideon and me. That instantly excluded him from our recruiting, and once Gideon invited Reid, we started getting real threats. That man dropped off the map, but he continued sending threats through alternative accounts, and many were targets to you, Spencer. Garcia took care of them actually, took care of blocking them so you didn’t ever see them.”

Spencer looked up at Hotch shocked and said, “Why didn’t you ever tell me this.” Hotch dropped his head and said, “You were so young Spencer. So much was happening in your life at that time and Jason and I thought it was for the best. I apologize. That was a mistake.” Reid let out a breath, knowing now wasn’t the time to be upset with Aaron. Instead, he asked, “Do you still have his contact information? Do you have anything at all on him?” Before Aaron could even reply, Penelope said, “I do. I keep everything, and this time it’s legal. Any threats that are filed against an agent or a former agent are kept in a database that I helped update.” Morgan said with a happiness he hadn’t felt since arriving in Kansas, “God bless you, woman. Now is the time to show us those computer skills of yours” Penelope smiled and turned back toward her screen, cracking her knuckles, “Glady my friends. Watch me do my thing.”

y/n slumped onto the ground limp. When M finally released her from the contraption that had held her in place, y/n was too overwhelmed to do anything else but lie. Once the light in front of her had been turned off, she felt like she was in an abyss of black. Even though the man had unglued her eyelids after what felt like an eternity. Just being in front of the light with her eyes shut was still like looking at the sun without shades. Again time was a reality that had left y/n out of place, out of being. It could have been months or years since she’d been bound since she’d been put in this place. Because of the loud noise from the speakers M had brought in, y/n couldn’t hear him moving around. Her ears were constantly ringing even though the sound had ceased. Besides that, y/n didn’t have the energy to try and figure out what was happening around her; she knew whatever it was wasn’t good. At this point, y/n didn’t even feel she was in her own body anymore. She was somewhere else entirely.

y/n didn’t register anything much apart from pain until the unsub, who had set up the room as a trap, started a livestream that he sent to Spencer, and kicked her in the side. The sharp pain radiated up y/n’s ribcage and she let out a moan though her voice was gone from screaming. Even M had to shout and shake y/n to get her to hear him say, “I’m letting you go. All you have to do is get to the door. You’re useless to me now. I don’t see your doctor coming to save you, so you might as well get out. I guess you’re not as important to him as I thought you were.” Deep down, y/n knew that the man wouldn’t let her go. She’d not leave this place alive. She also knew she was special to Spencer. That he would do anything for her, and that he and the team were still looking for her, but she was so tired and mentally broken that she began to believe it. It felt like for no reason other than to just move instead of being killed not trying, that y/n began to move on the floor. She was too weak to even get on her hands and knees.

Instead, she just moved on her stomach in a direction even though she couldn’t see anything except bright spots covering most of her vision. The rest was so blurry that it only added to the migraine she already had. y/n hardly noticed that there was glass on the ground until the warmth of the blood from her stomach made her realize in horror that she was crawling on a sea of broken glass. y/n stopped and M began berating her for not being strong enough. Not having the willpower to want to get away. That he had won. It took the last of y/n’s strength to speak her mind. To tell the man the truth. She knew it would get her killed, faster, but she would have a clear mind.

“You’re an idiot.” Y/n couldn’t hear her own voice, but she assumed M was listening and she didn’t let anything he did distract her from continuing, “You are the dumbest person I’ve met. You got Spencer all wrong. You don’t understand him at all. He might like me, and I like him too, but Spence isn’t some weirdo who doesn’t have any friends. He doesn’t stay up at night plotting revenge on people or thinking of zany puzzles because he’s so bored and doesn’t have friends. Spencer is a smart guy, but that intelligence doesn’t push him away from people or relationships. He’s just a smart guy who works for the FBI. It’s clear to me that you’re the weirdo with no friends, and you’re just going to have to accept that you couldn’t cut it in the FBI, forever. It sucks to suck.” Mr. M moved to grab a knife he had brought in the room to finish the job. He couldn’t handle y/n insulting him, and he was going to finish her off, slowly. He had very little restraint when he was scorned. Before he could get to y/n, he was knocked back by a load of gunfire as the BAU along with a SWAT team swarmed into the room. y/n was so far gone that she couldn’t even tell as Reid knelt next to her and wept.

The next few days stretched into apparent eternity for many of the team. y/n was taken immediately to the hospital, accompanied by Spencer and Emily, while Derek and Aaron took the unsub into custody for interrogation and criminal proceedings. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope stayed behind to handle the police presence, forensics teams, and clean-up process. In part, the BAU was relieved to find y/n still alive, it was a weight lifted, but the reports from y/n’s team of doctors at the hospitals painted such a picture of pain and mental suffering that y/n must have endured that it broke their hearts. How they could ever forgive themselves for what had happened, to y/n? They didn’t know. But they had to keep moving because that was what the job required. That was the nature of the work, and they all prayed that y/n would get better, and also understand what they had to do.

Spencer felt shielded from most of the work side of things, as he stayed mostly at the hospital and heard the doctors and nurses' multifaceted and comprehensive care plan for y/n with the majority of it working on how to deal with y/n’s partial loss of vision, mental health, PTSD, and the chronic pain that would likely come in the months ahead. Spencer took in this information and researched and planned and found medical trials and anything that he thought might help. He mostly did this to fill the time. y/n had been put in a medical coma to help facilitate her physical healing. Spencer knew in the end that no amount of research he did it would but y/n It would be up to her to want to keep living after this. And given all that she’d been through, he wouldn’t blame her if she decided to just be whatever was left of herself because of him. Reid was trying to take in the very real possibility that she might never want to see him again given that being his friend had made this fate happen to her. Spence was only out of the hospital when another member of the team tagged him out for a day or a few hours. Even then, Spencer didn’t rest. He just tossed and turned.

When y/n was taken out of her coma four days later, it was Penelope who was there when her fingers twitched on the sheets and felt the crisp material. y/n’s eyes opened, seeing only the blurred brightness of the room which she quickly closed them again. Garcia leaned forward in her chair and said softly, “I’m here y/n. You just rest for now.” Penelope stayed with y/n for the next few hours as the doctors and nurse checked on y/n’s vitals and her sight and she lay exhausted in every way, just let these things happen to her. Her mind was somewhere else. It wasn’t in the hospital room, part of it was still on the team, like an outsider looking in, and part of it was at her apartment watering the one plant she’d kept alive since college, and another was in the park where they sold a t/c/s that she loved to drink and people watch with, but the majority of her brain was still in that freezer, waiting for death, waiting for the worst to happen. And even though part of her mind knew she was alive and being helped, it couldn’t register beyond what had happened to her. y/n stayed in this state of being in and out of herself and her body for another day. The next time y/n came back to herself, it was still Penelope sitting by her.

Garcia came back into the waiting room where Spencer was, as always, sitting and waiting for news, waiting for anything. Penelope walked over to him and leaned over his seated form. Reid looked up at her, his brown eyes lit up slightly. He asked something quietly back and Penelope nodded her head. Spencer got up and shook out his legs. They’d gotten stiff with all his awkward sitting positions. He followed Garica and a nurse to y/n’s room and took the place where the blonde and spunky Technical analyst had been for the last two hours. The nurse gave Reid a few words before leaving the room. The mood shifted a bit. Penelope just lit up a room where as Spencer brought a more calm mood to the room. He looked around the space which he’d seen while y/n was unconscious. It was still light, a sad beige color, and lots of pretty soft flowers from the team and friends. It seemed that Reid could look everywhere but y/n. The nurse and Penelope had both warned him that y/n still hadn’t said a word since she had woken up apart from his name. Reid didn’t expect y/n to just become whole because he was near her, but the fact that y/n had called for him had given him hope. But as his eyes finally landed on her face which was healing from the heavy bruising she’d received, her eyes remained mostly closed, but every now and then they opened, took in whatever they could, and then closed again. One time she turned her head slightly toward Spencer, and he wondered if she could even see him, or if she knew he was there.

It wasn’t until the next day that y/n said in a very soft and hoarse voice, “Spence?” that Reid looked up from his lap and shifted forward in his chair. He didn’t want to be imagining things, but y/n’s voice had been so faint that he could have just made his name up. Anyhow, he softly replied, “Yes, y/n. I’m here.” y/n swallowed and turned her face toward him. She couldn’t see him, but she’d left like he was there. It didn’t seem like Penelope anymore but given how she’d felt, and the things that weren’t real that she’d seen before being saved had messed up her sense of reality. Hearing Spencer’s response helped, and she held back a sob as she asked, “How do I know you’re real? How do I know if any of this is real?”

Spencer desperately wanted to take her hand and reassure her that everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t want to promise things he couldn’t guarantee. He also knew touching y/n might make her nervous and panicked. Spencer looked over y/n and replied, “It’s real because you know it is. Because you’re strong enough to wake up and talk. Because maybe life isn’t so cruel to let this be a dream for either of us.” y/n turned her head toward him again and tried to make out his face. She’d have liked to see what he looked like right now. Was he sad, relieved, or feeling as empty as she was? She wanted to know because she didn’t know how to feel or act or do. For now, there wasn’t more than resting and waiting to see if this was all a charade. To see if she’d suddenly jerk awake to see death in the face again. To be back with M. again. For now, she let out a sigh and tried to feel anything in her body. Her pain receptors were either shot from what she’d been through or she was on so much pain medication that it was intentional. Either way seemed preferable, and yet the pain had grounded her in her time in captivity and now that it was gone there was a strange void where it had pulsed all over her body. y/n rested her head in a more comfortable position and let the sleepiness come back to drag her back under.

The rest of the BAU shuffled through sitting with y/n as Spencer got his mandated rest and time off ordered by Aaron. The presence of the others and the changes in the atmosphere with each of them helped y/n pull herself back together. The next time Spencer came back she was slightly more herself. She was sitting up on a few pillows and she sensed when Reid stepped into the room. They sat together for a few minutes in silence before y/n said, “The last time you were here you said I was strong. But I don’t feel strong Spencer. I feel broken. I mean I am broken. I can’t see anything and my hearing’s shot too.” Reid bit his lower lip and thought for a bit before responding. He could tell her that she was very likely to get her hearing back and that her vision would improve in time. That with time and care she could resume a pretty normal life.

But a pretty normal life didn’t feel fair. None of this felt fair, and Spencer knew that. He also knew that the team in charge of y/n’s care would have told her that as well. They would have been doing everything that would attempt to boost her spirits. As it was like Spencer to do, he chose to go with a more metaphorical take on things. It was one of the things that had drawn y/n to him in the first place, and he hoped it would bring her comfort now. He focused on her hands which were gripping the sheets tightly as he said, “No one chooses to be broken y/n. That’s not their fault, but that doesn’t mean that the thing isn’t beautiful, it’s just changed.” y/n let out a breath and said, “I’m not Fitzgerald or Beethoven. I don’t think the tortured broken artist thing will work for me. I’m just a profiler. Was just a profiler.” Spencer could see the disappointment and pain on her face, and he replied, “Not that exactly, but your knowledge about art and literature did make it possible for us to find you. I was useless on this case, and I’m so, so sorry for that. You saved yourself on this one, and given what you’ve been through, you deserve a good life after this, a peaceful life if you want it.”

y/n wanted to believe Spencer, but his speech so far was giving, “A broken clock is correct twice a day,” and that wasn’t the most uplifting thing she’d heard so far. She didn’t know what she wanted after this. Didn’t know how to want anything after she’d thought she would die over and over again. However, y/n knew that Spence wasn’t done yet. It was a tell in his cadence, and just as y/n expected, he continued, “Have you ever heard of kintsugi?” y/n nodded her head no, and Reid explained, “It’s a form of Japanese pottery. When a plate or vase or anything that’s been fired breaks; the potter puts the pieces back together with gold.” y/n let out a breath, it sounded like a beautiful thing, and it was a nice metaphor, but her pessimistic side said, “So I’m just a broken thing and painted pretty so I’m not a profit-loss?” Spencer sighed and said, “No. What I’m trying to say is that. What I’m trying to say is that things that are broken still have value and beauty. They still deserve to be cared for and looked after. They’re different, but it’s still a precious thing. It is to me at least.”

y/n couldn’t hold back the tears that were now overspilling from the corners of her eyes, and she moved her hand out, palm open. An invitation to let Spencer take it, which he did. Spencer bowed his head over their joined hands and y/n felt his soft hair on her skin. It was the first time she’d felt grounded since waking up. It was the first time she felt real again. y/n sniffled and said, “I don’t know what to do Spence. I don’t know who I am anymore.” Reid nodded and said while gently squeezing her hand said, “I know. And you don’t have to know that right now. Every part of you is still there, but it’s going to be a hard time to dig those things back out of yourself. Maybe some of them you’ll want to leave behind. But I want to be with you as you try to become this new version of you. If you’ll let me. I was such an idiot y/n. I’m so sorry,” y/n nodded and said, “Don’t be. I don’t regret it, Spencer. It’s worth it to know you. I want you here, please.”

Spencer nodded, and y/n felt tears that weren’t her own on her hand and arm now as Spence ever so lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles. Neither of them said it, but the love in the room was so much more than what it had been before. Perhaps it wasn’t the fluffy teenage love they could have had if none of this had happened, but it was clearer now than ever, and that was worth it. There was a future in that, whatever it looked like. After a few moments y/n asked, “Can you read to me? I knew you had a book in your lap before I said anything and the quiet is slowly driving me insane.” Spencer sat up and said, “Well it’s just a collection of Ginsberg poems and I know you don’t like Ginsberg.” y/n scoffed lightly and retorted, “What do you mean, I love Ginsberg.” Reid shook his head and said, “Liar.” y/n pouted like a child at being read so easily and said, “Fine, but maybe I love Ginsberg when you’re reading him to me. Please?” Spencer chuckled and said, “Anything for you, y/n. Anything.” As Spencer began reading, and y/n listened, neither of them thought about the future or the past, they were just there, and for now, that was as meaningful as gold holding something broken yet precious together.

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gauloiseblue · 6 months

Text

I'm Only Flesh and Blood

(König × Reader)

[Dead dove: do not eat | MDNI]

TW: rape, non-con, imprisonment, death, violence, overall dark theme

(I don't know why, but this song just resonates with the story, not because of the lyrics, but the way he sings it.)

You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You didn't realize there was a war on the horizon, before it all fell down upon the city.

Between the rumbles and the upstanding pillar, you coughed as the dust surrounded you.

You screamed for help, as the shattered walls trapped you in, leaving no space for you to move. You did it over and over again, until your throat scratched. Yet no one came to rescue, no one heard you scream.

When the night fell, you curled up your body, trying to find warmth in the harsh structures. There's no light that could reach your place, you only knew if it's daylight when the temperature rose up slightly, although it soon blurred as you lost track of time.

You were starving, your lips were cracked and split open. You thought you'd die like this, until you heard a heavy stomp of a boot.

There was a sound of a man shouting above you, and a heavy thud soon followed. You didn't have the energy to speak, as you watched a little light come through the rubbles. One by one, the wreckages were lifted, and you winced at the glaring light upon you.

There's a shout, and more shouts followed after in a language you didn't understand. You covered your eyes to see a soldier stretched his hand to you. Just like a fool, you reached up to him.

The event that unfolded between the rescue and the medical help was fuzzy in your memory. What you knew was, you woke up in a cold room, with men in uniform by your bed.

They asked you your name, and basic questions that you weakly answered. After they wrote it all down, you heard them mumble the word 'foreigner'.

"Where am I?" You asked them with a hoarse voice.

"Hospital." One of them said, before they both left the room.

Your brows furrowed, as you sensed something's off, but can't pinpoint what it was.

When the doctor declared you've made a full recovery, you were immediately brought to a different building. The man took you to an office, where a hunched figure in a mask sat at the desk.

He shooed your escort with a wave, and he left the room without a sound. Leaving you with the big man.

"What's your name?" He asked with a strange accent.

"(Name)." You responded.

"They said you're not from here." He stood up, and you witnessed the full glory of his height, "Visiting?"

You slowly nodded, nothing to add.

He shot you a sneer, as he walked closer to you, "You didn't know there was a conflict?"

"No," You lowered your head, "I thought it was safe."

You saw his polished boots as he stood in front of you, before he lifted up your chin so you'd face him.

"You're lucky you're inside the ruin, you know." He began to speak with malice slowly dripped out of his mouth, "Your kin were mostly dead or imprisoned. The women were raped, and the men were skinned alive. But you're still alive. You must be lucky."

The grip on your jaw became harder, and you whimpered, both from fear and the pain.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

He let go of your face, and you immediately took a step back with your legs trembling. Your gaze was down, and you couldn't see the smile on his face. He walked past you, and you heard the door open, before a soldier took your hand and led you through the hallway.

In the other room, you met several girls with the same expression as yours—scared, confused, unsettled. You stood beside one of them, and watched as the soldier left.

The girl turned to you, asking your name.

"It's (Name)."

"Oh." She responded, "Where were you from?"

You told her the name of your hometown. "You?"

"I lived in the neighboring country." She smiled, "I'm Nina by the way, nice to meet you."

You returned the gesture.

"Do you know why we're here?" You asked.

"I'm not sure." She said as she rubbed her neck, "But I overheard the soldiers referring to us as flowers, I'm not sure what that means."

"Flowers?"

"Pretty flowers, in fact." She clarified, "One of them even said exotic ones. I just hoped it's not what I think it is."

You opened your mouth to reply, but the conversation was interrupted by the opening door.

There's a man striding from the door, and stopping on his track to see the people in the room. He scanned them one by one, before he turned to the soldier on his side.

"Which one is the Colonel's girl?"

The soldier looked at you, before leaning in to whisper.

"Hmm," He let out a displeased grunt, "Well, take her away then. There's no point in choosing her when she's off the list."

The soldier said something to him, but he dismissed him.

"I don't care, take her away."

He pressed his lips together before he nodded.

"Come." He said to you, and Nina immediately grabbed your hand.

"Don't go." Her eyes were wide as she told you, and you were alerted by the fear in her face. But you didn't have the time to process it, as the man ripped you away from her, dragging you out of the room.

"No—" You tried to protest, "Let me go."

He stayed silent, while his hand was planted on your arm.

"Where are you taking me?"

"None of your business."

"It's my business to know."

"Shut up."

The two of you arrived outside, where he quickly called a car to the lobby. As the car parked, he opened the rear door and shoved you inside.

The door was already closed by the time you shouted at him.

The whole ride was silent, as you bit your nail, trying to make sense of the situation. You tried to look out the window, figuring out where the driver's taking you. Though you found nothing, not a single clue.

It took perhaps 15 minutes before the car parked in front of a house—a big house, in fact. At the front door, you met another man in military uniform. He didn't say much as he let you in, before locking the door behind.

It took a minute for you to process what happened, before you knocked on the door, asking why you're here. Again, you received no answer.

Deciding it's not worth the time, you began to roam around to find a way out.

It's a two-story house, with a big dining hall and equally big kitchen. It has a study room, and a meeting room right beside it, the two rooms were connected by a door. They looked like they've been used recently.

Upstairs, you found the bedrooms, as well as the bathrooms. There's a door leading to a balcony, but it was locked.

When you came back to the first floor, you tried your luck in the study room. It was full of papers, and you skimmed over it. But it's all written in a language you didn't understand, so you decided to move to the drawers. But as you bent down to reach the handle, you heard an unmistakable voice coming from the door.

"Don't touch that."

You lifted your head to see the same man you met in the office. He was leaning on the frame with his arms folded, watching you intently behind the mask.

"Curious, aren't you?"

You looked down to avoid his stare, "I'm sorry."

He took the time to examine your face, before he spoke, "I was planning to take you home with me, but it seems like my lieutenant sent you away without my permission."

"What do you want?" You asked him through gritted teeth, "You're not planning to send me back home, aren't you?"

He smirked, "Clever thing." He said, "Do you really wish to know that?"

You kept your glare at him as he explained.

"You see, you're still officially missing, and it's not our job to report every single person we found." He walked toward the bookshelves with his hands on his back and his chin up, "So if we found someone, it's our right to keep them."

He pulled a file from the shelves, and threw it onto the table.

"It's yours." He told you, "Go on and read it."

You looked at him with disdain, before you flipped the file open. There, you found all of your private information—the copy of your and your parents' IDs, your bank accounts, and detailed information about your background. Although it's written in German, you knew it from the written dates and a few familiar names.

"Do you understand now?" He spoke in a low tone, "You have no choice."

He left the room as you froze on the spot, unable to bring yourself together. The soldier by the front door took you to a bedroom and locked the door behind as ordered. Leaving you alone, at a loss.

You stared blankly at the window, and took notice how it's screwed shut. Even if you were to break the glass, it's already lined with railing. The same applied to the small window above the toilet, and you saw no possible way out in the bathroom too.

Maybe you could open it with something, something that resembles a screwdriver.

When the sun had set, you heard the lock turned, before the soldier entered with a tray and a jug of water. He set them down on the nightstand, before leaving without a word once again.

You looked at the food, and you had no appetite despite your stomach growl. You didn't touch the plate, but filled up the glass with water. That was it, that's your dinner for that day

At night, you couldn't sleep. You could hear the clock ticking, reminding you that you're still here. Pretty much alive.

20 minutes past midnight—you knew it from the toll of the grandfather clock outside—you caught the sound of the door opening, then closing. It came from the room beside you, the master bedroom.

That night, he spared you from the dreadful ordeal of sleeping together. But your luck was running thin after the third day of your stay.

You were laying on your bed with your thoughts, before the door of your bedroom opened. Your blood ran cold, as you heard a heavy step entering the room, and went towards your place.

The blanket rustled, as the man slipped inside. He settled into the bed, before pulling you into his chest.

Your heart beat hard against your chest, and you began to feel yourself sweating. You knew Fortuna frowned at you when he slid his hand under your neck, pressing his fingers on your pulse.

"You're still awake, aren't you?"

You bit your lower lip, and slowed down your breathing. All was an useless attempt to calm you down.

"Don't worry, I won't touch you tonight."

You took a sharp breath as you caught the meaning of it. It made him chuckle, as he buried his face into your nape.

"But if you try something funny, I can't guarantee that to you."

Your body turned cold when the words left his mouth, to the point that you stayed still, petrified by the threat.

He did keep his promise, as he fell asleep right by your side. Perhaps if you're a bit braver, you could lift his hand and escape that night, but his words hung on your head, as if it's a guillotine that'd fall on you if you moved an inch.

You didn't sleep that night. Drowsiness only came to you after hearing the birds singing, signaling the first arrival of the sunray. And you were too tired to notice the way he stirred, as it went closer to his waking hour.

In the afternoon, you found yourself alone in bed, with the door locked, and the breakfast on the table.

You survived that night, but it didn't mean you'd make it on the other days.

Unfortunately, it came sooner than you prayed.

It was your fault, you were careless. You thought he wouldn't pay any mind to a missing cutlery, but he did.

At the dinner, he asked you to accompany him at the dining table, and you sat there, blissfully unaware of the impending torture.

As you chewed the tender steak, he announced his concern about the lack of butter knife in the dishwasher.

You stopped at your track, as your body tensed up. The meat stayed in your mouth, as your throat tightened up, closing your chance to swallow.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" He asked with a cold glare, "Did you think I'm stupid?"

You kept your gaze to the plate, as the alarm blared in your head.

"Answer me!" He slammed his fist on the table, and you flinched away in fear. The reaction caused you to choke, forcing you to cough out the meat into the napkin.

"I'm sorry." You whimpered, while gripping your hand so it would stop shaking. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, you thought the time had stopped for you. Until you heard the chair moved, and he stood by the table.

"Hands on the table." He retorted, and your body obeyed him without delay.

You jumped when he threw away your plate, sending it and the cutleries to the floor as it shattered upon the contact. You began to feel unsteady, as the panic was rising from your chest.

He stood behind you, and you trembled as you heard the sound of a zipper.

That was the day you found that he'd use sex as a punishment.

He made sure that it hurts, and left you bleeding, he'd render your legs useless by bruising your hip and insides, as he rammed his cock against your core. You screamed at him, begging him to stop, but he kept going until he ripped the orgasm out of you. By the time he finished, you're entirely spent, as you curled up on the floor.

In daze, you felt yourself being picked up, before laid down on the mattress. Leaving you wondering about it in the morning.

He was cruel, but he took you to the bedroom instead of leaving you. He was merciless, but he bothered to put a few medicines on your tray.

You didn't understand him, and you didn't like it one bit. You had a hunch that it couldn't be that simple—that he felt guilty, or he felt the need to take care of you.

To your disdain, he continued to do it for weeks. He helped you up, and gave you the medicines every morning. He kept it as a routine, until you could stand on your feet again.

While your body's recovered, the phantom pain still throbbed between your legs. Reminding you of the consequences for your misbehavior.

The memory of it kept you in line, as you unconsciously complied with his demands.

That was, until his demand became more outrageous.

It seemed that he was testing you—putting you through unnecessary trials of whether you would obey him or not. He'd put a choker on you. He'd ask you to get on your knees, and put your head on his lap. He'd tell you to sing, while his finger slipped inside your panties. He'd place you on his desk, and told you to spread your legs while he watched you pleasure yourself. He'd force you to watch an erotica without your pants on, so you'd leave a stain on your chair. He didn't ask for sex, but what he requested was way more improper, to the point that you felt dirtier after doing it.

And he seemed to be pleased by it, he delighted in your humiliation.

He also got off on your fear.

He'd play a cat and mouse game with you, and he'd scream threats that'd set you running. He knew you're scared of him, and he used it to his advantage. And when he caught you, you'd be forced on your knees as he shoved his cock into your mouth.

You're aware that there'd be an escalation from the moment he declared he'd take care of you, but you weren't prepared for the level of depravity he possessed.

The way he'd threaten you with sex, and soothe you with aftercare, it was too much.

One day, you sobbed as you begged him to end it all, with your tears running down your face. But he just sneered as he rubbed his member against your clit, forcing you to watch as your body trembled when you came for the fifth time.

There were times when it's all quiet, when he was wrapped up in his work. Those were the times where you could gather your thoughts, and planned for a possible escape.

You knew about his gun collections in the study room, you just needed the bullet. You couldn't really escape through the front door, except when it's night. So you began to devise a plan.

In the back of your mind, your rationality told you it's impossible; that even if you killed him, his affiliates would catch you so easily. You have nowhere to go. But you shoved it back into the water, as your feeling thrashed inside your chest. You need to go. You need to get away from him.

Fortunately—and unfortunately—you found out the answer to your plan.

He hosted a house party with all of the soldiers. Some of them were recruits, and some of them looked like they're on the same level as him, judging by the presence of a pretty partner on their side.

You were given the role of a quiet escort, and you were allowed to leave his side only when he told you so. You wrapped your hand around his arm, as he greeted his guests.

The last friend of his came a little later, and your eyes were widened as you saw a familiar face. It was Nina.

She looked thinner compared to the last time you saw her. Her eyes were hollow, and her face was pale, with the exclusion of the red mark on her cheek.

You had the chance to talk to her when they all sat at the dining table. While the men were talking over brunch, you made your way to her and stood beside her.

She was quiet, and you doubted that she heard you, but it only lasted for a moment before she muttered out I'm fine.

"He slapped me this morning because I forgot to brew his coffee." Her lips trembled as she spoke, "But he told me to prepare everything for the party last night, of course I'd forget it."

Your brows furrowed with sympathy, as she continued her snivel, "I should've felt grateful that he only slapped me. The other girls—the other girls got it worse. But I—everything I did was wrong in his eyes. I don't—I'm so sick of it."

She quietly sobbed, and you took the initiative to pull her aside, guiding her to the restroom.

In there, you got the full length of her story.

The man who took him treated her as a housemaid, but never addressed her as such. He'd shout at her constantly, and he'd shove her face against the counter, forcing her to look at the little dust spot she missed. At night, he'd force himself upon her, with little to no preparation. And when she tried to escape one time, he brought home the head of her mother. The only family she had left.

You didn't know what to feel, but you could see that she got it worse than anyone.

You tried to soothe her, but you knew the wound was larger than you could stitch. It could never be healed.

As you both returned to the dining room, you found the table empty, as the men had already moved to his study room.

And your heart triumphed when you saw the key in his hand, as he opened the locked drawer to fetch something vital for your escape.

The bullets.

You watched him as he slipped them one by one into the old revolver. You burned the image of it in your head—the silver, big barreled revolver.

He then invited everyone in the room to walk with him, with the intent of showing a demonstration.

"This thing is a beauty, a wild horse," He remarked as he exhibited the firearm, "You need to learn to tame it before you ride it, or she'll kick you off the mount."

The men laughed, as some of them added an equally filthy joke. He chuckled before turning his body and stretching his arm to aim at the target.

There was an apple on the fence, on the far side of the garden. And the red fruit stood still, before it exploded as his gun went off with a bang.

The men cheered, applauding the magnificent show that you couldn't understand. Why did they praise it? Wasn't a gun supposed to do that?

You didn't have the time to ruminate, as you heard your friend whisper under her breath.

"He loves you."

The chatter from the men almost drowned her voice entirely, that you had to double-check your hearing.

"What?" You asked her.

She turned her face towards you, and a tear rolled down on her cheek. The sight of her stunned you, as she reached to touch your cheek.

"He never took his eyes off you." She muttered as she leaned closer to you. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, you thought you felt her lips brush against yours, as she pulled you into a kiss. And you almost taste the wine in her tongue, until a sharp shrill flew past you with an incredible speed. Before you knew it, you were on the ground, with her body slumped against you.

You sat there, watching the open side of her head as it dripped dark fluid into your dress. It was warm, and slowly seeped through the fabric, spilling over your thighs.

You didn't know who was screaming.

You couldn't remember how long exactly before they removed her body from you. The party must be over since the men took you to your room, leaving you alone as you sank into your chair. Your hands couldn't stop shaking, as you saw them stained with red.

What happened to your dress? It was supposed to be white, wasn't it?

You stared at your knees, as the image of her head was still fresh in your mind. You felt your vision narrowed, as if you watched yourself through the third eye. You weren't there, you were still on the ground, with your friend's head on your lap.

The door was opened, but you didn't notice it. You didn't notice any presence, before a hand softly landed on your shoulder.

You jumped out from your chair, almost shouted for the second time, if not for his embrace.

It caught you off guard, and you began to sob against his chest. You couldn't help it, it was the only comfort you had, even though you knew that he had removed every other hand just so you'd choose him.

"Don't be sorry." He gently lulled you, "She brought it upon herself."

He removed the bloodied dress from you, before turning away to fetch a wet towel. You didn't have the energy to fight him, moreover to lift your finger. So you let him clean the blood off your face, and off your body.

You didn't resist when he put the fresh clothes on you, and he guided you to the bed, letting your head fall onto the pillow. He didn't do much and left the room without a word.

On the bed, you let your mind wander to your friend—her hollow stare, the gaping wound in her heart, you should've known it. There's a quiet anger in you, as well as a deep sense of loss. She used you as a means to end her pain, but she had no other choice. She had nothing left.

For days, you asked yourself if it's the only way for her, or if you could help her, reach out to her just a little further. But what came back was an echo, since she was already an empty shell long before you could help her.

You were angry at yourself, angry at him, angry at the man who took her. Yet you couldn't do anything about it, you were powerless.

He was smart enough not to bother you, since you'd erupt at any given moment. But he'd snap at you if you crossed the line, and you'd end up with tears, as you bit your lips shut.

You don't know what to do with this anger, you still don't know the answer to this day.

While you have the plan ready, you haven't chosen the execution date. You need to be close enough to him to take the key, but you're still repulsed by him.

A week has passed by, and you find the courage to close the distance between you and him. You begin to join him for dinner, and keep him company in his study room.

That's when you start to see the crack.

There's a time gap where you can carry out the plan, at least the first plan. When he comes home, he usually leaves his things unattended at dinner time. You would have the freedom to roam, and you could sneak into his room for a short time. You once made sure which pocket that had the key in, and did a double-take a few days later. When you're certain of it, you move to the gun collections. You had memorized the revolver, so it didn't take long before you found it.

With that in mind, you're ready at any time.

You maintain a good facade in front of him, as you wait for the moment to strike.

The chance comes to you one night, when he decides to postpone the dinner. He has to talk with someone outside, and leaves his things on the dining table.

The window of time will be short, since the time it takes for him to finish will be uncertain. But you take it nevertheless.

You don't waste any time as you pull the key from his vest's pocket, and march toward the study room.

Adrenaline rushes through your body, and you're shaking as you take the revolver off the padded wall. You then turn your heel as you approach the desk, sliding the key with difficulties, before unlocking the drawer.

Alas, you run out of time.

You hear the front door close, and a heavy step echoes through the house. You hold your breath as you slide the cylinder release, and take a few bullets in your hand.

"Mäuse?" Your panic rises as you hear his call, with trembling hands, you try to push the bullets into the cylinder. Alas, one of them falls to the floor.

The noise must've alerted him, as the sound of his step turns into a heavy bolt.

You only manage to put two bullets in, before slapping the cylinder shut and aim at the door, right at the same time as his arrival.

He stops in his tracks when he sees you inside, with the gun in your hands.

"Don't come any closer!" You shouted a warning at him, though you couldn't hide the quiver in your voice.

He stands by the door, with his face unreadable, as it hides behind the mask. You pull the hammer, while your finger rests on the trigger. You're ready to shoot, he knows it from your stance.

He sighs, shaking his head in disapproval, "I gave you time, and this is how you repay me?"

"Don't—don't move." You tried to warn him once again, "I'll shoot if you move."

"Can you even shoot me with those hands?" He leered at you, taunting you with his words, "You won't hit any target if you keep shaking."

He catches you off guard as he storms the room, forcing you to pull the trigger.

The bullet hit his shoulder, and he shouts in pain. The shot you released enrages him, as he pulls a sledgehammer from his side.

You don't have the time to aim as you shoot the second bullet, and it flies past him, leaving him unharmed.

A high-pitched scream escapes your mouth as the hammer slams onto the desk, causing the wood to crack upon impact.

The revolver quickly dropped as you fled to the connecting door, escaping the place through the next room.

You run towards the front door, trying to push the handle, but it won't budge. You hear him coming, and jump to the side, narrowly escaping his hammer of rage as it punches through the door, sending the broken pieces everywhere.

"YOU COME BACK HERE!" His voice boomed through the house, and you could almost feel the floor shaking.

You dash to upstairs, and push your bedroom door open, before locking it just in time.

Still, it can't protect you from him.

You watch in horror as the door shakes and fills the room with the cracking sounds, before it flies open by force.

And there he is, standing at your door like a nightmare.

You can't do anything except running away from him, running to the corner where you'll certainly meet your demise.

And you lift your arms and brace for the impact. You can see the hammer coming to you from the corner of your eye, and you cry out when it strikes.

It's all silence, before a quiet sob falls from your mouth.

His hammer crashed on the wall, just an inch away from your head, showering you with dust and smashed fragments.

Your body slides down to the floor, as your legs give up. You continue to weep, while he lifts up the hammer, and tosses it to the ground.

"Are you done?" He retorted harshly, and you shrunk away from him.

He yanks your hand away, and throws you to the floor. You yelp when he sits on top of you, pushing your face down to the ground.

"Should I treat you badly so you'd learn to appreciate what I did for you?"

"You took my freedom away." You hissed through your tears, "You kept me in here so you could play me like a toy."

"But I took care of you, didn't I?" He growled, "I never asked you to clean the house, you didn't even have to cook for yourself. What more could you ask for?"

You flinch at his tone. You've seen him angry a few times, but never this angry.

"Do you want a toy of your own?" He asked, voice dripping with bitterness. Your eyes snap open, as the phantom pain throbs in your hip. "I can certainly give you one."

"No…" Your lips quivered as he slipped his fingers under your clothes, "No, no! Stop!"

You tried to kick him away, do anything to get away from this monstrous man.

"Get away from me!" You screamed at him, but he ignored you as he ripped your clothes off. "Please! I'm sorry—"

"It's too late for that, don't you think?" He laughed when you tried to crawl away, while he undid his belt.

You cry out when you feel the head of his cock poking against your core, before he slowly pushes it inside.

It was excruciating, as he stretched you open with a force. He groans as your walls clamp around his member, as if repelling him from entering.

He snakes his arm around your shoulders, as he pulls you close until his chest is flush against your back. A bitter tang of iron hits your nose, reminding you of your own mistake. He hisses when you grab him on the place near the wound.

"Don't think you can escape me, (Name)." He snaps his hip against you, and you throw your head back, eyes tightly shut. "Not even in your death."

You scream when he buries himself completely, stuffing himself to the hilt, until you feel yourself full.

The pain comes back to you, as you feel your core burning. He makes it worse by feeding it frictions, as he begins to pump himself in and out. He tosses his mask aside, before he marks you with his bites. He sinks his teeth onto your neck and shoulder, before he lifts you by your chin, and crashes his lips against yours.

It was bitter, full of teeth. His kiss tasted like rage, and the jealousy he held since your friend stole it from him.

You cough from the lack of air, and fall down on the floor. The mixed saliva in your mouth drips down to your chin, and he runs his thumb to wipe it off.

He bends down to kiss you once again, and you whimper when you find yourself growing wetter against your will. The resistance from your walls becomes lesser, and he can easily slide his member in.

"You know, Mäuse," He mused as his hips moved like a piston, "I'm only flesh and blood, but I can be a good father."

He keeps his arm around your body, as you struggle against him.

"I can buy you a big house, taking care of our little ones." He covers your mouth when you begin to voice your protests, "As long as you're with me."

Your hand starts to flail around, trying to hit his wound, but it's out of your reach.

"I'll make you my wife, and we'll live together as a couple." He said with a smile, but through your eyes, it was a madman's grin. "You just have to be good, and I'll treat you as such."

His cock brushes against the spot that made your moan, and he keeps hitting it until your back arches, as you turn limp in his arms.

He soon follows after you, as his cum spills into your womb, filling you up to the brim. You gasp when his arms tighten around you, as his cock twitches inside your core. A sense of dread hits you as you feel his cock doesn't get any softer.

"I think you'll make a great mother." You heard him murmur, before he pressed his lips against your temple.

#I have “writing dark fic is my coping mechanism” syndrome 👍#tw noncon #please read the warnings #dead dove do not eat #könig x reader #konig x reader #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #konig cod #he might be a bit OOC but I do believe that he'd turn cocky when he's the person in the high rank #like what's social anxiety? I'm the captain here #*the colonel #whatever

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mercurycft · 3 months

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𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎 — 𝐀𝐖𝐅𝐂

## awfc x teen!player reader - TRIGGER WARNING !!

therapy is expensive but tumblr is free. i love you all - PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS!! APPLY AFTER THE BREAK. THANK YOU. love always - RG x

tw self harm, suicidal thoughts, angst, foul language, anger, anxiety, depression talk.

please put yourself first. do not read this if you feel like you can’t. thank you.

——— 1.1k words

it didn't hurt, didn't burn.

it didn't feel the way you remembered it to.

it numbed.

you were hot, far too hot. the heat pricked at your skin and tormented the skin of your cheeks - now tight and sticky as your tears dried. the tiles were cold beneath you, pressed up against your legs from where you slumped on the floor.

the dull ache set in as a backdrop for the muffled voices just a few rooms away. you were pleased to hear them still occupied by whatever crap was on the tv - pleased by the possibility that you could slip away without causing a disturbance.

nothing phased you anymore. instead, the scrape across your skin soothed the fire raging in your mind. it calmed your beating heart and pushed away the anxious bubble in your throat. it silenced your sobs and subdued the race of your emotions.

you didn't know how long you had been there, laying limp on the bathroom floor. in some weird way that helped, not knowing whether time had stopped or sped in your determined absence. you didn't care for time anymore, constantly torn on the ability to have more or have less. time, that is. are you an avid hater of time or a waster? did you need less or want more?

the last time you were here, you remember it was quick. short and sweet, cleaned and sorted before you had the chance to long for more. this time, however, you were quite content.

finding comfort in the chaos of your thoughts when your weight shifted, head back against the bath as you drew in a shaky breath. your eyes grew heavy in the peaceful quiet of your own personal refuge from the monstrosity of life - the life that sat on the other side of the door.

you recall memories fondly, a weak smile pulling at your cracked lips. you recall your friends, family, the people you've met and the lives you have changed - it was never enough. never enough to dismiss the disgrace that followed you. it lurked in the shadows and clung to your back like an infection - sucking the nutrients straight from the source until you were a shell. left to decay under the ever-unforgiving eyes of the universe.

you were drifting, politely fighting with consciousness as your fingers twiddled with your poison of choice. the cold of the metal dancing with your shaking fingertips. the paint from your work splashing the blank canvas of the floor - decorating the space around you with a vulgar display of your wilting petals.

'it'll be okay,' you whisper into the space surrounding you, voice hoarse as it grumbles from your throat. you were at ease as your body became weightless, right hand fighting the exhaustion as it raised perpendicular to your left wrist. unforgiving, relentless.

your body didn't argue, embracing the sting when you felt it. humming contently at the final contact before your eyes became too heavy under the iridescent lights. your arms fell to either side of you, overtaken by the tiredness that crept through your bones - intoxicating each muscle until they couldn't take anymore.

this is fine, you think. mind finally quiet - no longer buzzing. this is fine. you hear the small clang of metal to the floor, internally amused as it bounces and chimes.

you can't hear beyond your breathing now, too focused on the shallow inhales as your lungs fight to stay useful - working overtime.

two minutes, or two hours, you weren't sure. unaware of the approaching patter of feet towards the door. a soft knock is what brings you back momentarily, still grasping onto the last strands of your being.

"y/n? did you fucking fall in" katie. she has a nice laugh, you think.

she knocks again. confused by your lack of answer, concerned by the eery silence that sits waiting to greet her beyond the wood. she knocks a third time, and the silence spreads and engulfs the house. the silence was soon interrupted by the approach of more feet and bodies towards the bathroom. you can just about make out the pounding of their knocks through the ringing in your ear.

beth calls your name. no reply.

caitlin shouts about a prank. no reply.

the ringing eventually overpowers their hollering and you let the darkness behind your eyes take you. peace.

outside your almost lifeless body, away from your slack limbs, the door opens with a crash - creasing invertedly on its hinges when lotte throws herself against it. the frame split in half at the lock when it's forced out of position.

you can't recall anything after that.

you come to for a moment in the back of caitlin's car, leah sat with your head cradled in her lap and beth with your legs against hers. your eyes stir, unable to make out anything other than the throb behind them. the stab through your temple and the sting of pressure against your wrists.

leah can feel you tense beneath her and halts her shouting of directions to sweep your hair out of your eyes and study your face. the blue tint to your lips and lack of colour through your cheeks, her stomach sinks as she watches your eyes flutter.

"it's okay, sweet girl, we're nearly there." she whispers with no reply, voice cracking with a silent cry as a tear slips from her waterline. shes quick to wipe it away when she feels your head droop again.

beth has her own hands wrapped around your wrists, tea towels stained with the life from your veins by the time they arrive at the hospital. she's squeezing, keeping the pressure consistent under the order of lotte who whips her head round from the front seat every couple of seconds - careful to not distract caitlin from driving. katie's voice is coming through the car, her, alessia and viv following behind.

lotte is out of the car as soon as it stops, sprinting towards the double doors and assembling help. sobbing and gasping for breath as she directs nurses and doctors to the car parked across an ambulance bay - unbothered by the glares of passersby.

you're surrounded by people, doctors, nurses - anyone who can provide an extra set of hands. each helping to pull you carefully from the car and carrying you into the hospital.

you can't speak, can barely here and can't feel your body by the time they got you in a bed and rushed you through the halls. your friends, your people stood watching them take you away through a set of double doors. parts of them shaded by you - beth's hands. leah's lap. lotte's shirt. caitlin's arms.

silence fell upon them. the world standing still when you disappeared into the depths of the hospital. they shared the moment, a breath. no words exchanged. just knowing touches - a shoulder clash, a patting hand.

you don't pay them a thought - unbothered by their fading presence. instead, your internal monologue tried to shout above the noise of your bargaining. let me go, you beg. silently. to no one. maybe to life - maybe to death.

let me go.

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steevbuckk · 10 months

Text

FAVORITE STUCKY FICS | 58/100

You and a Test of Will by @sergeantscarlett

[Modern AU, 72 489 words, Explicit]

Summary:

Bucky Barnes suffered from depression before he joined the army, and when he came back, he suffered tenfold. Steve Rogers painted his nightmares and didn't talk about how he lost his leg. Natasha believed it was possible -- just maybe -- that broken people could help heal one another.

more fics

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kayfabebabe · 3 months

Note

Hi, I was wondering do you still write bret hart smut? i really liked your fic "you look wonderful tonight!" :)

Hallo Anon! I am SO incredibly sorry that it has taken literal months to answer your request. I've been battling through some writer's block and, unfortunately, your request was put on the back burner for a while.

Bret Hart X Female Reader WARNINGS - Smut. NSFW. Teasing. Public Sex (ish). Getting caught.

~ ~ ~

“Stop…”

Bret’s voice was soft and laced with warmth, despite the tightening grip on your wrist beneath the table. It was a futile attempt to stop your hand from inching closer to his upper thigh. Around you, the ebb and flow of the bar continued; people talking too loudly to each other and the steady thrum of music coming from somewhere. Nobody took notice of the pair of you tucked at the table in the corner.

You wanted to defy the gentle command. It had been a painfully long week of travelling between cities in too small of a car with the rest of the Hart Foundation, scheduled appearances, gruelling matches, and dozens of other responsibilities that kept you apart from Bret. Any form of privacy became obsolete. In the scarce moments that you could steal for yourselves, neither you nor Bret had the energy to do much more than share a few chaste kisses. You wanted… No, you needed more.

“D’you think they would notice if we slipped away?”

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as Bret’s gaze flickered across the bar to his brothers standing around a pool table; Jim was laughing at the sight of Davey holding Owen above his head in a bench press to entertain a steadily growing group of strangers. They would, eventually, notice your disappearance. They always did. However, the teasing pressure of your fingertips tracing the inner seam of Bret’s jeans, skating close to the zipper, was maddening and his resolve was wearing thin.

Bret’s breaking point came when you brushed your lips over the shell of his ear and pleaded in the softest whisper. Even the strongest of man wouldn’t be able to resist any longer. Excitement sat heavily in the pit of your stomach as Bret led you through the bar, his arm tight around your waist and eyes fixed on the door. Moments later, you were pressed against the side of a car with any thought about the other Hart Foundation members being forgotten in favour of focusing on Bret’s hips grinding against your own. Every desperate kiss melted into another and another. Lightning shot down the length of your spine, pleasure already burning hot and bright.

Your hands awkwardly slipped between your bodies to roughly palm over Bret’s hardening cock. Oh, it had been too long. The mere possibility of finally getting your mouth on him or being bent over and fucked drew a high-pitched moan from the back of your throat. All it would take is pushing your jeans down then Bret could easily…

"Oi, Bretty-boy!"

Both of you leapt away from each other at Davey’s recognisable voice yelling across the parking lot. Your heart hammered against the inside of your ribs, cheeks warming and turning a dark shade of red. This isn’t the first time that you’ve been interrupted and you were sure that it’s not going to be the last, but the embarrassment of being caught still tied your stomach in knots. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Davey whilst he called for the pair of you to come back inside before disappearing into the bar again. As you tried to step away, Bret pulled you close again to press a feather-light kiss to your temple.

“Later. I promise, Sweetheart…”

#The Human Writes #Ask Answered #THANK YOU ANON #Fanfiction #Writing #Established Relationship #Bret Hart X Reader #Spicy #Requests #Fanfic #Gender Neutral Reader #Please read the warnings #I'm back on my writing bullshit #(Vaguely)#Bret Hart #The Hart Foundation

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kidrauhlschik · 1 month

Text

Hard To Let Go - KSM POV

~ Hard To Catch - Strike One can be a stand alone - this is Seungmin's POV ~

The term Strike Two comes from baseball, where a batter is allowed Three Strikes at a fairly pitched ball before being called out; thus, a batter with two strikes has but one more chance to hit a fair ball.

~ please read the warnings. ~

~ TW

Warnings: ANGST w a happy ending, depression, explicit injuries, self harm, anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, SUICIDE ATTEMPT!TW (PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF IT MAY BE TRIGGERING), if this would affect you in anyway, please steer clear and stay safe. Put your mental health first! lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: Strike one can be a stand alone, but i really wanted to explore Seungmin's little depressive era, and I may make a Strike Three as an epilogue lol. THIS IS NOT A STAND ALONE THIS IS AN ADDITION TO THE FIRST PART BUT IT IS NOT NECESSARY.

Word count: 8.2k

~ TW

Choosing to walk away from your door was difficult. He wanted to knock again but at the end of the day, he knew better. He is Kim Seungmin after all. It felt odd for him to knock on your door after facing rejection. He was practically used to it from you at this point. However, walking away from your building, his brain started going in millions of different directions. That was very unlike him, but getting close to the end of the year, he began to get worried.

Was he genuinely beating a dead horse? Were you never going to see him in the way that he sees you?? A part of him feels as if he should respect your wishes but at the same time, Seungmin wasn't accustomed to losing. Ever.

Maybe by graduation he could accept the fact that you would never see him in the same way that he sees you, but he didn't want to. A part of him felt as if you cared for him too.

When he was halfway to his dorm, he got a bad feeling, but he passed it as the rejection you had just given him, which made his heart ache, it did not make sense to him. He had always been genuine with you, always trustworthy, and always there for you. He spoke of you in the highest regard. To him, you were everything. Would you never love him back? Or at least give him a chance to prove himself to you?

He’d never pressure you to anything. Which is why he kept all of his despair from your rejections, hidden and masked from everyone.

Although he was lost in his thoughts, he heard footsteps approaching him. They were fast, so much so, that before he could fully turn around, both of his arms were being held by two people, one on each side.

Panic obviously set in. His thoughts stopped, and his fight or flight instinct set in. It was hard to put up a fight when a bunch of men were around him. He wasn't sure of how many, but it was definitely more than five against one.

Despite his disadvantage, Seungmin still managed to free one of his arms. With his right fist, he was able to make contact with the chin of one of the men. In retaliation, they held him back once again, and the same guy that Seungmin managed to land a punch on, returned the favor by landing a hit near his eye.

After recovering from the hit, Seungmin tried to open his eye, only to be met by complete darkness. The guy that had hit him managed to hit him with enough force to break the skin above his eye, causing the blood to pool through his vision . Had the guy aimed a bit lower, Seungmin’s actual eyeball could’ve been seriously hurt.

It would only get worse from there.

The next thing he knew, a sharp pain came to his left leg. He heard his bones breaking before he could actually feel them. That caused him to drop to one knee.

He heard laughs and rambling but his brain focused on the pain coming from the rest of his body. They were restless. Anytime he would try to look up or stand, another hit would land on his gut, or someone would step on his broken knee.

Once he fully dropped to the ground, he felt someone step on his wrist, the pain was so intense that he was scared his skin and bone would rip from the impact. At that point, he was too confused to understand the situation, all he knew was that he was supposed to leave. Sadly, the people that were holding him down had different plans.

Next thing he knew, one of the guys that was holding his arm, brought his arm up and kneed his elbow so that his elbow would fold backwards; that was a pain that he never imagined he would feel.

The punches and kicks didn’t stop. They were mocking him. Whoever they were, they wanted to make sure Seungmin wouldn’t be able to get back up.

He wondered what would have happened if he had never gone to visit you. He would have probably practiced for the upcoming game with the guys. Instead, his thoughts were racing back to when he was with you.

As the group left him blue and bloody, all he could think about was you. It all led to you.

He stared at the stars above. The sky was clear, but to him he could only see the blurs up above.

He wondered if he would die. How ironic. After all, you'd end up being the death of him. That wasn't true though, but he had no one else to blame. So he chose that the person at fault would be you. After all, if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have been walking home this late on his own.

It's irrational, but as his vision began to fade from all the hits to the head he'd gotten, all he could think of was your smile. How you laughed when he picked you up in the baseball field after you enjoyed his passion with him. His last thoughts before he lost consciousness were of your rejection. You dismissing him like you'd done before.

He felt stupid.

He hoped that he wouldn't wake back up.

When he finally opened his one functioning eye, he automatically closed it again in response to the fluorescent lights.

"Min." It was Chan's voice.

"It'll be okay man. We are all here for you." Of course it would be Chan as the guiding voice. That alone, made Seungmin concerned. His brain seemed to block off the night before, it was like trying to catch up to something he wasn’t there for. All he knew is that he wanted to get up, he wanted to move and inspect his surroundings, but he couldn't even achieve that. It was confusing to him.

"Y/N is on her way." That name. Your name. He fought his fuzzy thoughts to remember why your name mattered so much at the moment.

"No" It was barely audible, but that's all he could manage to say after just waking up.

"Hey guys, the doctor is here." That was Minho's voice, Seungmin could tell, even thought he couldn't even see him yet.

He heard a couple of footsteps. He couldn't quite understand the situation yet, but he assumed that the guys were making space for said doctor.

For a second he wondered why a doctor would be relevant in the situation but then his mind started racing once again.

"Hey Seungmin, how are you doing?"

He didn't open his eye.

"Seungmin, I'm your doctor. My name is Dr. Jae-Soo Hun. I'm here to help you. Can you hear me?"

At the question, Seungmin tried his best to open one eye to show the doctor that he was conscious, which was very difficult considering how many painkillers he was under, which probably didn’t help the slowness of his brain at that moment. Once again, Seungmin managed to open his eye because after all, he was still the best at everything.

"Doctor?" Was all he could muster.

"We have taken your vitals. You have no damage to any of your vital organs and it looks like you'll recover like a champ in that regard." Champ. Seungmin had always been a champ. He knew that. "However, you did take some serious hits." That made it click. He finally remembered that after he left your place, he was caught by surprise and beaten. The doctor’s words made Seungmin want to chuckle at the understatement, but he didn't have enough energy to do so.

"What..." He took a heavy breath, "What does that mean?"

The doctor sighed and responded, "It means that you are very strong, but a full recovery will almost seem impossible based on what your X-ray exams tell us. However,-"

"However?! Is that not enough?" It was Changbin to butt in. The doctor didn't take him into account though, he kept on explaining.

"That means that you should have died. You're lucky to be with us right now." Seungmin’s first thought was that the doctor was being a bit dramatic. Sure, he was jumped but it couldn’t have been that big of a deal. Right? He’d recover just like he’d recovered from previous injuries in his past. At least that’s what was running through his brain.

"I'll be okay for the upcoming game right?” He looked at his teammates, but the guys, wearing somber expressions, were looking at ground, unwilling to make eye contact.

"Kim Seungmin, it’s a miracle that you’re alive right now. You suffered enough blood loss to have permanent brain damage in the best case scenario. Based on the damage caused by the assault, one wrong hit would have killed you on the spot.” The doctor stood tall. Making his point clear.

"Does that mean I can't play the next game?” To him, what the doctor was saying were just words. There is no way that the perfect Kim Seungmin would ever miss a game. Everyone knew that it was on Seungmin to lead the team to the finals, but no one anticipated what was to come.

"I apologize Mr. Kim, but your right wrist is shattered, and so is your elbow."

Seungmin immediately became clear headed at the doctors words. His right arm? That meant that he couldn't throw a ball, he couldn’t bat, and that he couldn’t catch. Dread fell heavy on his chest, his breathing halted as he actually took in reality.

The doctor continued, "Your left knee is also broken, and you spine took a bit of damage as well.”

"Okay so I can skip one game," He could recover right? It would take some time, but he is sure that he would be fine for the last game of the season. “But I can come back this year right?”

Unfortunately, the doctor looks at him grimly.

"Mr. Kim. I am afraid that you will have to leave your baseball career behind in order to prioritize your recovery." Seungmin couldn’t see, but Jeongin turns his back from the doctor to cry at the wall. Chan holds Felix’s shoulder as the pair try their best to not breakdown as well. Changbin looks as if he’s about to commit murder, and the rest of the guys are still looking at floor, trying to keep themselves together. They’re not mourning a player, they are feeling for Seungmin’s situation, because they all know what this will do to him.

"I can’t do that." Seungmin gathers himself again. "Baseball is everything to me. That’s my thing. That’s the thing I love the most." And you, but right at that moment, with each passing second, all the love he has for you is slowly turning into red hot hatred. Poison invades all memories that involve you.

"I'm sorry Mr. Kim, but in my professional opinion, that does not seem like an option based on your body's current state. You’re going to have to go through physical therapy for the foreseeable future. Perhaps, maybe in the far future, you could recover enough to participate in the sport.” It’s like the doctor was not aware of what he was saying, he had no idea that he was shattering Seungmin’s future like a wrecking ball on glass.

"Doctor, you don’t understand, I'm going to join the Lotte Giants." He looks at the guys who are still avoiding his gaze, “Guys! Tell him! You guys know me, tell him I’ll be fine!” His tone changes from confusion to desperation with every word. Almost begging for this reality to be a dream.

"Mr. Kim..."

Seungmin's eyes search the bed, almost hoping that his body will respond to his pleads. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t break through the pain holding him back.

“No…” His voice timid and broken. Chan thinks to himself that he’s never seen Seungmin this way, not in the slightest. One of his best friends, the rock to support on, the comedic relief to fall back on through tough times, the guy who is always there for everyone. How is he supposed to help him? He knows what Seungmin truly wants, and it pains Chan that he can’t help him through that.

If they were under different circumstances, Minho would laugh, because if any of the guys were in Seungmin’s current state, Seungmin would go and make a deal with the devil to help them out. Minho would do the same for him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the devils number, so all he can do is let the silent tears stream down his face with a bitter smile.

Seungmin truly breaks when he catches a glimpse of Felix and Changbin. Felix has tears streaming down his face, and he is trying his best to keep quiet, while Changbin let's silent tears fall down his cheeks as he stares at the doctor, his face being unreadable between anger and sadness.

Tears unwillingly begin to catch up to the champ. Finally understanding how dire the situation is, reality finally settles in. His delusions begin to fade and he starts seeing the world for how it truly is. Cruel. Unfair. Brutal. That was a side of the world Seungmin had never seen before. The go-to-lucky guy was getting his light dimmed because the universe decided to finally show him what reality is truly like.

"Please get out." Seungmin''s voice is cold and harsh, which was very unlike him.

"Seung-" Chan tries to reason with his friend before he is cut off.

"and don't tell Y/N. I don't want to deal with this, I don't want to deal with anyone, much less the pity."

Through sobs, Felix manages to speak, "Seungmin we don't pity you."

"Get out!" It's more of a plead than a command. The guys do not know that the second they finally walked away, Seungmin broke down to pieces. If he could've trashed the room he would've, but instead, he thrashed around the bed to the best of his ability as silent sobs caught in his throat at the acknowledgment that his future is non-existent.

Everytime he closes his eyes, he sees your face. The image of every rejection you have given him replays in his mind. If he hadn't gone to you, he would be fine. It's technically your fault. His downfall is all because of you. The person he loved the most is the cause of his demise, and he doesn't think he could ever recover from that.

The fact that he still loves you is poisoning his brain. It feels like a betrayal to himself. The love becomes toxic in his blood, every bit of affection turns into red hatred.

The thought of his resentment towards you simmers in his brain as he calms down and looks at the white ceiling. He continues reliving the night prior, yet he can't remember who the culprits of his incident were. He never had a chance to pinpoint them, his first priority was to get away, but he never could.

The rest of his hospital stay becomes miserable for him. Starting off from the events that took place when you tried to visit him.

All he could think about was your selfishness as you plead with him. Every word becomes more and more hypocritical. Every encouragement is a lie. The pain in his body and the stress of the situation becomes too overwhelming for him.

He wanted to share his pain. When he took everything out on you he felt relief, but something about being the reason tears were streaming down your face irked him. He knew he felt guilty. After so long of being the reason for your smile, and wanting nothing more than to make you happy, causing misery for you felt off. He pushed through those feelings and turned them into pride. He should feel proud. After all, you’re the reason he’s lying there, broken.

Useless.

He only allowed Jeongin to take him home from the hospital, the youngest being his closest friend. Yet, he didn’t speak to him much at all.

“How are you feeling?” He would keep on asking, only to be met by tight lips and silence, which was more than enough according to Seungmin.

Seungmin refused to ask for help, luckily his friends would come by without asking first. They’d cook for him, though he didn’t eat much. They’d clean for him here and there, but Seungmin wasn’t doing much aside from lying in bed and simmering in his own misery.

You’d come too, but he never let you come inside.

The guys would question him in the beginning, wondering why he had it out for you specifically, but they stopped bringing you up when he finally responded with, “I was coming from her house when it happened.” Knowing Seungmin’s mind was probably a riddle at the moment, they just assumed that the anger would pass, leaving just despair for the broken boy, but the anger stayed to infect more than the relationship between you and Seungmin.

It all started one night when he was alone. He simply wanted to use the restroom. All he had to do was get out of bed, hop in his chair, and make his way to the bathroom. Simple.

He never struggled for anything, so having to do such a simple task seemed like nothing but a small task. Things changed when he was trying to get out of his chair by gripping the porcelain counter with his good hand, and his hand slipped on the surface.Leaning forward, he tried to catch himself, but was caught off guard by his own weight on just one hand. He hit the ground hard, with his good hand trapped between his body and the floor. His body at an awkward angle between the chair, the counter, and the toilet, the circumstances making it almost impossible for him to move.

His face laid on the bathroom tile, features contorting in pain, it dawned on him once again how useless he felt in his situation. He couldn't use his right arm to wedge himself to a different position without pain shooting through his body. He kept on trying to use his good leg to find a stable footing or grip on his surrounding, only to flop it around to no avail.

Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face for the first time since that day in the hospital.

This life didn't feel like his own. The golden boy would have been out tonight, maybe eating barbecue with his friends, or maybe singing karaoke with you.

You.

His anger slowly took over his sadness as it had before.

He didn't need you, or anyone for the matter. He only needed himself. He couldn't rely on anyone because if he did, he would be vulnerable again. He would be open for the world to come back and break him down, and he couldn't allow that.

So instead of wallowing in self pity on the bathroom floor for any longer, Seungmin used his broken hand to get a grip on the cold tile. The cast making it a bit more difficult to angle himself properly. Despite the shooting pain that felt as if his bones were on fire from the pressure, he forces himself to work through the pain. He needed to prove to himself that he could do it.

After a few agonizing minutes Seungmin was back in his chair. Panting from the exertion while holding his casted arm, he willed his arm to go numb.

Once he caught his breath, he made a mental note to start working out in whichever way he could to make up for his unusable limbs. At the thought he started laughing, slowly at first, but gradually cackling at himself. The fingers on his good hand reach his thigh and he began digging his fingernails on the bare flesh. As his laughter died down, he glanced down to see scratch marks.

Pathetic.

He thinks to himself because of his behavior. He’s never been like this. Maybe because things had been too perfect before, his glass mansion had shattered and now he had to walk through glass for the first time in his life.

After the bathroom incident, Seungmin began to lock his door, opting to ignore the knocks, texts, and calls of not just you, but the rest of the world as well.

The task of shutting everyone out became significantly more difficult when he had to go back to school.

After being in a wheelchair for a month, and excelling in his physical therapy, the hospital gave him the clearance to start using crutches. Which meant, it was time for him to go back to school, and to confront all of the people he’d been ignoring for the past couple of weeks.

Chan and Changbin had been the first to approach him on his way to class.

“Hey Seungmin!” Changbin appeared in front of him seemingly out of nowhere, and when Seungmin tried to go around him, his eldest friend blocked his way.

“Hey man, where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering us? We’ve been worried. The only reason we haven’t called the cops to do a wellness check is because the hospital said you’ve been going to your physicals.” Seungmin finally looks up at Chan, but he continues. “I understand you’re going through a lot man, but you can’t just ghost us like that.”

To all of his friend’s concerns, Seungmin merely responds with a question. “Why did you check with the hospital about my personal business?” The guys’ expressions fell.

Seungmin was somehow colder than he had been before. He wasn’t really himself when he left the hospital, but the guy in front of them right now was worlds apart from the friend who they may have lost.

The old Seungmin was kind, always smiling, and he couldn’t stand to see anyone down. The second he walked into the room, the energy shifted, brightening up everyone’s spirit. This Seungmin radiated soul-sucking hatred.

Changbin holds back any furthering questions, opting to ease the mood, “Hey man, we just wanted to make sure that you were alright. It’s been pretty shitty without you around.” He smiles to himself, more from awkwardness than genuine joy.

"I'm perfectly fine." He was not. "With everything that has happened, I just feel like I need to be on my own," Chan tries to interrupt him, but Seungmin continues. "I want to be on my own." Lies. "You guys are too overwhelming, I'm going through enough shit as it is. I don't want to deal with you guys as well." The last thing Seungmin needed was to be alone, but he didn't know that yet.

Chan being the person that he is wanted to talk to Seungmin, and tell him that avoidance was not going to solve his problems, but before he could say anything, Changbin put his hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

In his head, Seungmin was right. This just proved it. If they cared, they would have said something to him, they would have broken the door down of where he hid, they would have called the cops for a wellness check to get a point across. He forgets that not everyone is like that.

Not everyone is how he used to be.

"I'll get going now." The two step aside to watch Seungmin slowly make his way to class.

His first time seeing Minho, Hyunjin, and Han went pretty much the same as it went with Changbin and Chan.

Nothing prepared him to see Felix and Jeongin in his doorstep, seconds down from forcing his door open.

After they'd been knocking for an hour, and when they started threatening to tear the door down, Seungmin finally made his way to his door.

"What do you two want?" He said as Felix was in the middle of knocking. Again.

They both looked surprised that he would even open the door in the first place. Almost expecting for the golden boy to hide away like he had been as of lately.

With just one glance, they could tell that this was their only shot.

Felix was the first person to break the silence. "Are we not your friends?" He hoped to talk him out of his reclusiveness.

"No." Seungmin responded without missing a beat.

The two were at a loss for words. They expected a lot, a breakdown, a screaming match, a heart to heart, but a denial felt out of place.

"Seungmin, I know you're going through a hard time," Felix starts but he gets interrupted before he could finish his sentence. "Do you Felix? Do you really know what I'm going through?" Seungmin challenges.

Always the most level headed, Felix defends, "No. I don't know what you're going through, which is why we are here in the first place."

"Then leave." Seungmin goes to shut his door, until Jeongin's voice cuts through the tension.

"You're my older brother." Seungmin only looks at the ground, not daring to look at the youngest in the eyes. "Please let me be with you through this." Through this. Do they not understand that there is no 'getting through this'? This was his new tragic reality.

"There is no 'we' Jeongin." He looks at the youngest. Felix and Jeongin looked hopeless. They couldn't believe that their best friend was gone.

"We need you." The fox eyed man said with anger, but it was more outrage from Seungmin's words.

Seungmin laughs sarcastically. "You needed a baseball coach, well he's kind of out of business now." Once again, he goes to shut the door, but Felix chimes in next. "We need you for more than that."

Bile threatens to flood Seungmin's senses. They need him. Had everyone been a leach in his life? He wonders why he had allowed himself to be so good to everyone without expecting anything in return.

One more reason to hate himself. He was foolish. People took advantage of him. He couldn't let that happen ever again.

"Well, I needed you guys for the team." He stares straight at Jeongin for the next few words. "I'm not in the team anymore, so I don't have any use for either of you." He didn't mean that. "So if the two of you could stop pestering my life, I'd greatly appreciate it." Please don't leave. "Please don't bother me ."

He shut the door in their face, ignoring all calls and messages going forward, which all faded to few and far between. All except for yours.

He was stable, going through the motions, doing his school work to at least graduate, but he didn't have much motivation to do much else until one day he stayed in the library past 1AM.

He'd been mindlessly studying, and memorizing everything as he always did.

That was, until he was interrupted by a random stranger.

"You have a great singing voice." The words brought Seungmin out of his book. Blinking his way to focus on the source of the sound.

Was he singing? He didn't even realize.

"It was quiet but this place is a bit empty, I could heard you from a couple of seats down."

Oh.

He clears his throat before focusing on his textbook again. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," She said to catch his attention. He finally looked up to see her, and without a shadow of a doubt, she was gorgeous. "No need to apologize. Seriously, I would have thought you were a celebrity if you weren't in a college library." She moves to sit beside Seungmin, but an uneasy feeling settles in his gut. His skin begins to tingle with anxiety. Which was also new to him.

He chooses to ignore his uneasiness for now. It could have been the 1AM deliria.

"Do you really think so?" He asks. Was she being serious? Or mocking him? He never really thought he had any talent for singing. Nowadays, he doubted everything he did.

"I think that your voice is amazing. A golden voice if you will." She said in good nature.

She seemed beautiful, kind, positive, and most of all, she reminded him of you.

The mere thought brought him back to reality. The same reality in which he scratched through his recently uncasted wrist. Blood seeped through where he managed to break through his own skin. It was almost as if it distracted him from reality, but when the pain became too much, he realized it wasn't a distraction, but an escape.

He wiped his wrist on the fabric of his sweatpants, clearing his throat before slamming his book closed.

"Excuse me. I have to go." He start throwing all of his belongings in his bag before he moves to grab his crutches.

She stands up and walks around Seungmin. "Here let me help-" "Don't." She stands back, confused, but Seungmin looks at her. Eye to eye, almost challenging, which leaves her even more confused.

"Hey I'm sorry... I just thought that-" He interrupts her again, "I don't care."

As he walks away from her, he pushes all thoughts of you to the back of his head. All you ever brought him was pain, there was no point on even pondering on the fact that he felt like his heart was being suffocated from the memory of his past.

~ TW!

He had given the rest guys a proper rejection so they wouldn't chase after him. So why couldn't he bring himself to do the same to you?

If he was being honest to himself, he could hardly stand to look at you. Everytime he hears your voice, he gets reminded of everything he'd lost. His recruitment, his team, his friends, his passion, his dignity, and his heart.

Everytime you'd approach him, he simply ignored you, and tuned you out. The more you did it, the easier it became.

He didn't want to hear your apologies, or your pleads. He wondered what you truly wanted, and assumed that you just wanted to have your lovesick puppy back. Afterall, no one truly missed him, they simply missed all he used to do for them.

He told himself that he was better off, but in reality, he’d never felt more lost.

His life was always linear. He’d been the best at everything, so he’d never had to wonder what was next. Once it was so simple. Win in the play ground, get good grades, win baseball matches, get into a good school, go pro, get a family and just allow life to run its happy course.

Now everything that he knew was gone.

He felt hopeless, not knowing what comes next, was it even worth it to keep going to school? If he isn’t playing baseball, what else is there for him to do?

The dark thoughts approach the day of his birthday. He received calls from everyone, and the only ones he answered were from his parents.

“Are you doing anything fun to celebrate tonight?”

“Yes mom.” Was all he gave her.

To his parents, Seungmin was still the same, though he couldn’t play baseball, they knew the talented young man would find something else he was good at and excel in that. They knew that he had a strong support system, and a strong will, so they weren’t worried about their son.

If only they knew what Seungmin was really going through.

Turning a year older filled him with dread. He sat alone in kitchen table, silent tears rolled down his face and he just let them. His stomach roared with hunger but he didn’t have anything in the fridge. Why eat if he doesn’t need the energy anyway? Why celebrate his birthday if he was alone? Why age if he didn’t have a future?

He saw nothing after college. Why live for a future that is not even there?

His left hand makes its way to his uninjured right arm and begins to manically scratch the inside of his arm where a cast once sat. A new habit of his, one that always leaves him with scars where his nails had dug so harshly into his own flesh.

He tells himself that he deserves it. If he was better he wouldn’t be in this situation. If he was better he wouldn’t be hurting himself. If he was better…

He goes to stand, but forgets his own immobility for a split second, leading him to land on the floor. Sobs rip through his body, was the room amplifying his cries? He hits his fists against the ground in desperation. Maybe if he begged loud enough, the world would open up and swallow him whole, freeing him from his pain.

Maybe he could free himself of his pain. The worst thoughts run through his head as he crawls towards the knife drawer. It would be for the best right? He'd be ridding the world of one more problem.

As he grips the handle of one of his sharpest knives, his vision begins to blur. He could hardly breathe and his tears make everything cloudy.

He hovers the knife over his previous scars. He can feel them, as if they itched to be reopened.

As the tip of the blade digs into his skin, his hands begin to shake, he could hardly keep the grip on the handle of the knife. He felt as if he was drowning. He tried to focus on his task but his brain had a funny way of seeing things.

How pathetic would it be for someone to find him like this? Dead in his own kitchen on the day of his birthday. How ironic. He can see the posts and headlines, "The Golden Boy and his demise." The golden boy. He would laugh at the term if he were under different circumstances.

As he pushed the knife deeper into his skin, his breathing got more erratic. Why couldn't he at least do this?

He couldn't hold the knife anymore, it felt as if his hands cramped up. He brought his hand to his neck, trying to rip his own shirt open. He felt suffocated, as if he was choking on air, it was overwhelming.

He was going to kill himself.

He couldn't believe it. He wanted to die, but he didn't have the guts. Why couldn't he just die?

The kitchen was dark, and all that could be heard were hit gut-wrenching sobs.

How could one person be in so much pain? When would it end?

It felt like a lifetime before Seungmin stopped crying. He almost felt numb, as if he cried himself out, but he could do nothing but stare at the wall across from him.

There were no thoughts running through his brain, at least until a particularly loud thunder brought him back to reality.

He looked around the room, eyes swollen, and mouth dry. He couldn't even muster up the effort to move. All he did was listen to the rain outside.

A thunderstorm, so peaceful and full of life. He envied it.

Then, another sound would cloud his senses. It was a ringtone, particularly the ringtone he set for your contact. A soft melody to contrats the harsh storm outside. He tried to ignore it at first, but then the ringtone started over again, and again, and again. He wondered if you'd ever get tired of calling.

However, in the midst of the rain and the melody, he started humming to himself. A random tune at first, but slowly he began to formulate words along with his own melody.

Maybe it was because you called him, or maybe it was because he still loved you, but all of his memories of you came back to haunt him.

He began to wonder if he'd made the right choice. If he would have done things differently, would you still be there? Would you see him in the same way that he sees himself?

Though he doesn't want to think about you, he sings a small tune, that may have had you as the muse.

"If I hadn’t let it go in the end Will we ever be happy again? It’s useless, everything is useless, even if they say it’s useless Thoughts keep growing in my head Would it have been better if I did better? Would you have laughed if I did the opposite? It’s useless, everything is useless, even though I know everything Regret keeps growing in my heart"

He lays in the same spot for the rest of the night, repeating the same lyrics in his head over and over again until he could find the will to get up and write them down.

A week later, he was back to his new usual stoic self. He threw a hoodie on and got ready for class. Yet, he didn't expect for you to be on his doorstep as he walked out of his dorm.

Whatever game you were trying to play, he wouldn't fall for it. So he simply pretended as if you weren't there, assuming you wouldn't be there by the time he came back.

He was wrong.

Day in and day out, you remained in the same place. He never acknowledged you, and you never acknowledged him.

To him, you were like a mosquito that refused to leave him alone. Yet, after two weeks, he wondered when you'd even go to class, or cheer practice, or anything else for that matter.

He didn't allow himself to ponder on it much, because the more that he allowed himself to think, the more he would feel, and the more he would feel, the more he would hurt. Seungmin was tired of hurting.

Still, he'd lay awake at night wondering if you were foolish enough to sit alone in the hall of a bunch of men's dorms. Turns out, you were stupid enough to do so. Whenever he'd feel restless, he would look through his peephole and find you slumped over in the corner of his line of vision, and he could do nothing but sigh at your stupidness.

When week three rolled around, he began to wonder if you did anything aside from keeping guard by his door. He still wouldn't acknowledge you, but he assumed there was no way you made permanent residence in the men's hall.

He took it upon himself to find out just how stupid you were. Turns out, you were not only stupid, but also idiotic. After hearing your teachers say that you'd been absent for three weeks, Seungmin wanted nothing more than to kick you where it hurt most.

He questioned why you were doing this in the first place. Why couldn't you let him rot away in peace. Why did you always have to meddle in his affairs?

Why was it that when he finally pushed you out of his thoughts, you found a way to meddle back in?

After a month of constantly ignoring your presence, things became harder. Not because Seungmin learned how to forgive and let go, but because he was afraid that you'd be dead in the morning and it'd be his fault.

Totally not because a freezing cold thunderstorm hit the city, and totally not because he was worried about your well being.

He tried to forget that you were there, but every time he'd close his eyes to sleep, he could see you shivering under a thin towel, sitting outside for no reason whatsoever.

He tossed and turned until he was wide awake. "God-fucking-dammit." He hopes that once he makes his way outside, you'd given up, too cold to stand being stupid. Boy, was he wrong.

When he opened the door, he finds you in the same position he saw you last.

"You're going to die out there." He says while looking down at your shaking form.

"Y/N, go home." You pretended as if you couldn't hear him.

Without giving it much thought, he limped out and sat beside you.

You turn to face him, "Go-go inside." Your teeth were vibrating against each other. The freezing cold rain had taken its toll on you, but Seungmin had underestimated you. You were just as, if not more, hardheaded than he was.

He couldn't comprehend how you'd been out the for so long. The rain and the cold felt as if needles were piercing his skin with every drop.

"Seungmin." You said.

"Y/N." He challenged.

The two of you exchanged looks before breaking eye contact and looking forward again.

After a couple of minutes, he breaks the silence.

"Why?" He had begun to shiver as well. He couldn't believe that you had sat out there for hours through this hell.

You let out a small laugh, which sits odd with him. Had you finally gone mad?

"So you would talk to me." With a sad smile, you look at the ground. The six words made Seungmin shiver and he wasn't sure why. Yet they make something take over him, "C'mon, come inside." He struggles to get up, and immediately, you're at your feet trying to help him, but he pushes you away. He still doesn't want your help or your pity.

He tells himself that he would do the same for anyone else, ignoring the part of his brain that screams comfort at your form.

"You can take a shower in the spare room." He says, as he grabs his crutches once again, and makes himself towards his own room to shower as well.

"All of my clothes are soaked." Of course they are.

"I'll put some pajamas on the bed for you."

You nod and scurry off, which Seungmin is thankful for. He feels vulnerable in front of you, but he doesn't know how scared you were in front of him.

You didn't fear Seungmin, but you knew you walked a tightrope in his head.

Once Seungmin finally laid in bed, he hoped that you'd be graceful enough to leave before his classes started, but much to his dismay, you still lay on his couch as he rushes out of the door to make it to his early class in time.

He did not expect you to overstay your welcome, and to find you in his dorm when he came back that afternoon was a bit startling, especially after being alone for so long.

"Go home." Is the only thing he tells you once he walks in, but you ignore him.

A day later, he sits on the opposite side of the couch, but he doesn't say anything.

He wanted you to speak first. Why did you waste a whole month by his doorstep? Why couldn't you just forget him in the same way that everyone else had?

As he sat there, running through a million scenarios in his head, he heard you sniffling, and he almost wished that he hadn't looked up.

Your body shaking with sobs. Eyes shut, as tears streamed down your face. Mouth shut open, trying to muffle your cries. Hair a mess, hands shaking, face flushed, you seemed so vulnerable.

Every fibre of his being wanted to hold you.

Every fibre of his being still hated you.

"Seungmin?" He heard you, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to acknowledge you.

"Can't you tell that I love you?"

His world halted.

"Have you really not been able to tell that I have loved you since our second year?

It was a joke. It had to be. Just another futile attempt to get him to talk to you.

"Are you really that stupid? Seungmin, I have fucking loved you since that day when I couldn't land a flip. You came up to me and told me that I was worth something. How are you so dense?"

He remembered the day. It was the day you began to see him as a person. You finally saw through his golden persona, and saw the boy trying his best in the shadows.

He still refused to let his guard down. "Don't lie to me out of pity."

"Please shut the fuck up for a second?" That caught him off guard.

"Have you thought of how much you hurt me by cutting me off? You hurt everyone Seungmin." You stood up, and looked down at his sitting form.

You couldn't see the millions of thoughts running through his head. Had he hurt anyone? He thought that it was for the better to close himself off. Were you lying? The self doubt creeped into his head as it often did.

He began picking at his scabs before your next words.

"You are so much more than baseball. You're fucking Kim Seungmin. You are the guy that has always been there for everyone that you cared about, so it seems very fucking selfish to me that you refuse to let anyone be there for you." Your tears are shocking to him. Your tears aren't dramatic, but they're desperate, almost screaming into what Seungmin tried to ignore.

"You are the guy that brightened up my life for the longest. You are the fucking reason that I am still alive right now!" Your hands begin to shake, something Seungmin recognizes all too well.

"Have you thought about the fact that no one gives a shit if you can play baseball or not?! We knew that it hurt you, but we could've helped you through it. You're so obsessed with being perfect. We don't need you to be perfect!" He analyses your every word. Though he finds it hard to believe, he didn't ever think that anyone ever saw him as anything but perfect.

He sits in silence as your voice reaches a screaming point. "You are the reason I get up every morning. You are the reason I try my hardest everyday. If you aren't there, then what the hell do I have to fight for?!" Your breathing becomes rapid, which makes Seungmin regain consciousness in what feels like forever. "You are so much more than the golden boy-" You fall to the ground, unaware that Seungmin follows right next to you. "You're Seungmin." He sees you gasping for air, and he can't think of how to help you. Every emotion and thought that he has focuses on you.

"You're my-" Your words refuse to come out. "You're my Seungmin."

That's all it takes.

All of his makeshift walls crumble down at your words.

He still doesn't feel safe, but if he would risk it all again, tragically, it would be with you.

He sees you gasping for air but he doesn't know how to help.

As you begin to sob, he brings his unsteady hand to your back. The same hand that had done so much damage to himself. Yet, he doesn't think of that now. He only thinks of you.

You visibly recoil from his touch, and he almost pulls away.

"Y/N."

You're not hearing him. Your eyes search the floor, your lungs yearn release, and your chest begs for freedom,

"Seungmin." He hardly hears you.

He knew that you needed him, and although it was a cause of resentment at first, he couldn't help but think that if he were to be destroyed again, he'd risk the chance for you. All of the feelings he pushed back came crashing down all at once. So he did what helped him with the same scenario in the past.

He began to sing.

"If I hadn't let it go in the end Will we ever be happy again? It's useless, everything is useless, even if they say it's useless Thoughts keep growing in my head"

"Would it have been better if I did better? Would you have laughed if I did the opposite? It's useless, everything is useless, even though I know everything Regret keeps growing in my heart"

"In the еnd, I'm left alone at this night Our memoriеs become stars Put it over your head It is pouring endlessly The beautiful times we had together"

He noticed that your breathing was returning to normal.

"The moments sparkle come into me It shines in my heart today, I'm going to show you I can't forget you the way you are"

Once you can form coherent sentences, you tell him, "There are so many things that make up for what you lack."

A warmth erupts in his chest, and though he's not ready to trust anyone or anything again, he feels akay for the first time in a long time.

He doesn't feel alone.

He smiles at you for the first time in forever, and for the first time in a long time, he puts his arms around you, because his heart wasn't the only one that sat bare in front of you. You finally gave him yours in return.

20 notes · View notes

latenightdaydreams · 4 months

Note

I have an idea that Konig is Ghostface and he's been stalking reader for a while. He found out reader is a bookworm outside but literally a cunt inside. Like she never comes to parties, spend hours with her vibration instead. One night, Konig sneaks in her house and rape her fat unused pussy 😩😩😩

🤭🤭🤭YES😮‍💨

Ghostface!König x Nerd!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

🚫TRIGGERS🚫

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, bondage, voyeurism, stalking

3.1k word count

👻

The first time König saw you was at the campus Valentine's Day party. You showed up dressed in a festive pink sweater, but then sat in the corner with a stank look on your face. His eyes followed you as you seemingly complained to the girl you came with, a friend? Either way, your breasts and sensual body shape caught his attention.

König walks up to a guy that’s talking to your friend, “Wer ist das?” He asks, pointing to you.

“She’s a bitch,” the girl's friend hits his chest as if to tell him to shut up.

“She’s just shy. She hates parties.” Christa, your friend, defends you.

They all stand there and watch you gather your things and walk out the door without saying bye to anyone, not even your friend. Interesting. What type of woman are you? He was intrigued and wanted to see more of you. See what those bouncy breasts look like outside of that pink sweater.

After this first encounter, he dedicated his time to following you around campus. First, only to figure out what your schedule was. What classes do you take, what teacher do you have, what building the classes are in, etc. Just the basics.

He stalks behind you, far enough behind that you’d never notice; but close enough to listen in on any conversations you had. Which was basically zero. You kept to yourself no matter what you were doing. If someone interacted with you, you’d have such a poor attitude about it. Snappy, short, lots of eye rolling. This went on for two months.

One day, König set up a forced interaction. Dressed casually and slicked his blonde hair back. He looks handsome, standing at 6 '10 and being pure muscle. He knows he is attractive; his personality just sucks, much like yours seems to.

He lingers outside your second class of the day and looks around as if he were a lost student. Once he sees you, he walks over.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Your eyes dart to him as you take out an air pod. “What?” Your tone is unkind.

“I’m lost and I don’t know which room-”

“I’m late for class.” You cut him off and walk past him.

König just watches as you walk away with a smirk on his face. He knows once he has you in his hands, he’d have fun breaking you. After that, he waits for you to leave class and follow you home. Since you would not get to know him the typical way, he would continue getting to know you in the shadows.

You walk fast, but he has no issues keeping up. Your hips sway hypnotically, keeping his attention. Finally, you stop at a cute one-story home. He watches as you take your keys out and enter your home. Waiting a few minutes before he walks up to peek into your windows. He looks around to make sure no neighbors are watching as he walks up to your house, crouching.

Eyes peering through the first window, he sees your living room. Your shoes kicked off by the door, TV turned on already, and backpack thrown on the couch. His eyes scan the room, trying to take in every detail.

Continuing on he comes to the next window. He sees you and ducks back, worried you might have seen him. After a few seconds of no screams, he creeps back to the window. There you are. Taking off your shirt and jeans, just standing there in your beige bra and blue cotton panties. Totally unaware you’re being watched as you check yourself out in your dresser's mirror.

Watching like a hawk as you open the top draw and pull out a pink little vibrator. König could already feel his pants begin to tighten. You walk to your bed, grabbing a towel that’s folded underneath the bed. Laying the towel out, getting your pillows situated, and moving the blanket. It’s almost like a ritual and König’s interest is definitely piqued.

He watches as you lie down on the bed. Your pretty pussy covered with a little bit of hair, as you spread your legs he can see the pink within your folds. Fuck this is gold…

König quickly undoes his pants as he watches you pick a setting before moving it to your little clit. Through the window he can hear how loud you’re being, your legs twitch from the stimulation. All the while König stands there feverishly stroking his leaky cock. Imagining him running up to you and shoving his cock in that tight little pussy…

Your hips begin to grind into the vibrator as your head drops back on to your pillows. Your left leg is starting to tremble… König watches without blinking as your innocent pussy begins to squirt. Fingers replacing the vibrator, you start rubbing your clit quickly. Your sweet juices are spraying everywhere. He bites his lip as he begins to cum, accidently cumming on the siding of your house. It felt as if he were a wild animal and just marked you, leaving his scent behind to deter other predators.

This became a ritual for König as the school year went on. He would follow you around campus, watch who you talk to, see how you interact with the world. Occasionally he would try to go up to you and just talk nicely, but every time you shot him down. As if you’re better than him. Then he would follow you home and masturbate outside your window as you play with your tiny cunt.

That was until summer break happened. You went away to work as a camp counselor for the summer, leaving König behind. With you gone, König felt lost. He spent most of the summer inside watching porn. Looking for actresses that resemble you, but none could match your perfect breasts or pretty pink cunt.

August rolls around and classes start back up. König walks into his social science class and sees you… perfect. You sit in the front, middle. Teacher’s pet know-it-all, of course you’d pick there to sit.

König sits in the very back, where he has a clear line of view in your direction. He watches as you rest your head in the palm of your hand. How you cross your legs and squeeze, as if you’re trying to stimulate some sort of pleasure. Little slut, you can’t even control yourself in class. All the obsession comes rushing back to him. He needs you.

Halloween rolls around. König is handed a flier for a costume party that will be happening at one of the sororities here on campus. His new friend Carl, your friend’s boyfriend, goes out with him to buy costumes.

They both walk through the Halloween store and talk casually. He tries to think of ways to ask about you without being so direct.

“Is Christas bitch friend coming?” König chuckles to make it seem less important to him.

“Y/n? Probably not. She never shows to support anything Christa does. When she does, she’s in a foul mood and just leaves. It breaks Christas heart.” He sounded genuinely upset with you and your behavior.

“What’s her deal anyway?”

“I don’t know. Little stuck up virgin bitch thinks she’s better than Christa because she’s waiting until marriage.”

Virgin. That’s why you only touch your clit; you don’t want to “pop” your cherry.

“Is she religious?”

“Probably. I never cared to ask. Let’s just hope she doesn’t show up and ruin it.”

“Yeah.” König didn’t want you to show up, but for a very different reason. He had something special in the works.

Reaching up, König grabs a Ghostface mask and holds it up to his face. “Hey, what about this?”

Halloween night, König puts on the black robe over a pair of blue jeans, a white shirt, and a small satchel bag that has duct tape and rope. A real knife in his hand. He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, looking at himself. Blonde hair longer and pushed back, dark circles under her icy blue eyes, and a twisted look on his face.

“You got this. You can do it.” He whispers as he slips the mask over his face.

König leaves his shared apartment on campus and walks down the street while the sun is just beginning to set. Other students rush past him, all heading to their own Halloween parties. Towering over everyone dressed as Ghostface, he had a few people jump out of fear. From behind the mask, he apologizes while laughing. As if he is a normal guy.

Finally, he approaches the steps on the sorority. Walking inside he sees that there are a few other Ghostface at the party already. König rolls his eyes under the masks. His attention turns to the staircase as he hears Christa and Carl arguing. Without being seen, he walks closer to listen in. It’s clear that she’s talking about y/n.

You bailed. Probably home studying or making yourself squirt. The thought gives König a chub. You’re exactly where he hoped you would be. At first, he was nervous this wouldn’t work out for him. No, you never change. Easy to track. Before he is seen, he slips out of the doors.

He blends in easily for once in his life. Everyone dressed up like freaks or sluts. The giant isn’t the main focal point today. Once he enters your neighborhood, he notices the empty streets, but very loud house music. All of your neighbors seem to gather, yet your home's lights are on.

Cautiously, he approaches your living room window. Boom, there you are, asleep on the couch. The TV on TLC, some random trash television show. He attempts to lift the window in front of him, but it’s locked. Moving down a window to your bedroom, also locked. König walks around the back and tries the back door, locked. The kitchen window is a little smaller, but he still tries it. Open.

Carefully, König climbs through the window. His massive body just barely begins to fit, but he manages. Slowly he climbs off of the counter that was right under the window, being sure to not kick anything off the counter and possibly wake you up.

Once stable on the floor he stood there for a while and looked around your kitchen. Your style was quirky, which was odd because you act as if you have no personality. Before waking you up, he goes into the bedroom and gets that towel you keep under your bed. He lays it out on the bed the same way you do. Even arranging the pillows and blanket for you.

Reaching into his bag under his black robes, he takes out the rope and tape. The rope he leaves on the bed as he walks out of the bedroom with the tape. He pulls some and he can be quick to shut you up.

With soft steps he makes his way to the living room. He can see your hands are in your hands as if you fell asleep masturbating. A virgin whore. He’s ready to just make you into his whore. Standing over you as you sleep; eyes drifting over your breast and the tiny bit of midriff that is showing.

Slowly lowering his face closer to you until he sees your eyes open. At first it’s as if you didn’t register what you saw. König tilts his head. Then you open your eyes again and begin to scream. Quickly he covers your mouth with the tape.

“Shhh,” his eyes go wild behind the mask.

You try to stand and get away but his massive body easily overpowers yours and slams you back down into the couch.

“Don’t fucking move.” He hisses as he cuts the tape with the knife. Pulling more, he adds an extra layer.

With ease he lifts your body from the couch, pinning your arms to your side so you can’t hit him. Your legs kicking as he brings you into your room; eyes going wide as you see that he set the bed up the same way you set up when you masturbate.

König giggles looking at your face, “I did good, ja?”

He grabs the rope and tosses you on the bed. As you try to stand up, he pushes you back hard, “Give up Maus, you’re mine tonight.”

Using his massive body to pin you down, he climbs on top of you. Your face down into the mattress as he grabs one of your arms and pins it behind your back before grabbing the other. He uses the rope to tie your hands together, tight enough to dig into your flesh.

“I’ll show you how to have a really good time.”

König stands and grabs your body, turning you to rest on your back, nuzzled in the pillows like when you masturbate. He walks to your dresser and takes out the small pink vibrator. You look up at him with wide eyes, it’s clear that he’s been watching you.

“Now, don’t move, or I might cut you.” He says leaning back over your body as he begins to cut your shirt from your body. Your full breasts come into view and he can’t help the temptation of reaching up and pinching your nipple. You try to scream through the tape, but the sound is muffled.

His attention drops down to the waistband of your pajama pants. Slowly he pulls them down. Seeing your cunt face to face instead of at a distance was breathtaking. Speechless, he moves his fingers through the soft hair that covers your pussy. Finally, he can feel you, smell you, taste you.

“If you move, I’ll gut you.” He threatens as he begins to settle himself between your legs.

He lifts his mask slightly and takes in a deep breath of what your pussy smells like. It’s almost sinful. He has to taste it. Slowly he slips his tongue out and swipes it through your folds. You squirm slightly but stop, remembering the knife. He swipes his tongue up again. If he knew you were this sweet, he would have broken in sooner.

Shoving his face into your pussy he takes a deep breath before sucking on your clit. He bites it lightly, causing you pain as your body jerks away. Not letting you move; he wraps his arms around your legs tightly to hold you still. Spit running down his chin as he aggressively laps at your cunt. He slurps your pussy juice before biting your labia. Again, you jerk in pain and König just laughs as he pulls his mask back down.

Once he stands from the bed he just looks down at your naked body. He begins to pull off the black robe, tossing aside the satchel. Stripping down to his birthday suit, but the mask stays on. His body is massive with a cock so heavy it hangs.

He grabs your pink vibrator and turns it on, gently holding it to your clit. His eyes light up as your legs begin to tremble. Muffled little moans escaping your lips. You can’t help but to feel pleasure, even though you’re in this situation.

“Good…kleine Hure.” He turns off the vibrator and sets it aside. Inching closer to you, he slaps his cock on your pussy a few times.

“Ready?”

You shake your head no and try to scoot away from him, but he grabs your legs and drags you back to him. “No, no, no, you’re not getting away that easy.”

Looking down at your cunt he rubs the head of his cock back and forth over your clit. Slowly he slips down. With one hard thrust of his hips, he bullies his monster cock deep inside of your unused pussy. The tightness of your cunt was something only his hand had ever given him.

“Mien Gott, you really were a virgin.” He chuckled.

König grabs your legs and lets them fall over his arms as he holds your ass up off the bed slightly. His hips rolling rapidly into you, looking down he can see blood on his cock. A soft growl leaves his lips.

He lets your legs drop as he leans over you, one of his hands wrapping around your throat lightly. “My fat unprotected cock just ruined your pretty virgin cunt.”

You try to turn your head away from him as tears begin to roll down your eyes, but he doesn’t let you. He turns your head back to face him.

“Eyes open. I want to see the shame when I make you cum.”

You open your eyes as you have no choice but to listen. His free hand reaches down between your legs and begins to rub your clit. Trying to resist the pleasure was impossible, your legs tremble as your pussy feels as if it were torn in two.

He watches as you shake your head no. Your pussy getting tighter on his cock, he knew. He pulls out quickly, shoving his middle and ring finger into you. He presses down on the lower part of your stomach as his fingers curl, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

You drop your head back and he slaps your pussy, “Eyes on me!” His voice a low growl.

Lifting you head back up to look at him, your eyes cross from the explosion of pleasure you’re feeling. You squirt, hitting the Ghostface mask slightly, getting it all over König’s hands and arms.

“That’s what I want to see!” He excitedly slips his cock back into your pussy. His eyes watch as you wince in pain.

His hips move mercilessly into you. “I’m going to cum deep inside of this pussy. You’re going to get pregnant with my babies. You like staying home anyway, right?”

The look on your face as he talks down to you is full of fear and it’s just enough to get him off. He presses his cock fully into you, your cries of pain muffled buts still so beautiful. König cums deep inside of you. His seamen painting every inch of your velvety walls. A loud groan leaves his mouth as he tries to press in even further.

The look on your face is almost relieved as he cums, that means this is over with. So, you thought. He pulls his cock out, covered in blood and cum. In one quick motion he flips you on to your stomach, pulling you down the bed a little. He sits on the bed now, one leg on either side of you. König leans forward to pull the tape off of your mouth and drags you closer to him by your shoulders.

“You’re going to clean this.” He says slapping his cock on your face a few times. “Open.”

You don’t struggle, opening your mouth wide. The taste of salty cum and blood assaults your taste buds. His hand grasping a fist full of hair and shoving his cock down your throat. Your body thrashes, legs kicking as you gag.

“Get used to it, Maus. My cock isn’t leaving your throat any time soon.”

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thusspoketrish · 11 days

Note

I recently read Seven Days recommended on reddit and it’s been on my mind ever since. It was good but a difficult read. I’m interested in knowing why your wrote it? As a parent, I found it terrifying. I’m just curious to know what prompted you to write something on such a troubling fear for a lot of parents?

Hi there,

I wrote Seven Days a few years ago after reflecting on a personal experience, though nowhere near as traumatic as the story. I often engage with difficult topics in my fics, using them as a lens to explore Harry and Draco’s possible relationship dynamics, canon characterizations, and my own head canons within these situations.

Additionally, the FBI estimates that 460,000 children go missing every year in the US and a 112,853 in the UK. These numbers are fucking insane. I guess I wanted to explore that terrifying reality. I’m not a parent (yet), but I am an auntie to several nephews and a niece that I helped raise and love with my entire soul. I can understand how the story might be unsettling. It is a single exploration into an extreme worst-case scenario, but also, I hope, shows one instance of the aftermath and difficult process of coming to terms with grief after experiencing such an unimaginable loss.

I am always thinking of the way people might engage with some of the stories I craft, and how it might impact them. But all I really know is that for me, I will always try to remain thoughtful and sensitive when I explore these difficult topics. I endeavor to keep doing so with the utmost care and love.

Thank you for taking a chance on the story and I appreciate your message so much.

With gratitude,

Trish x

#my thoughts #sort of author's note #anon ask #anon answered #drarry #drarry fic #character studies #Seven Days #Please read the warnings

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emberfrostlovesloki · 18 days

Text

Twice Buried [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@i06gyu) Center (@@mickisnotclever) Right (@sleepinginthelibrary)

Prompt: Aaron finds out about the depth of pain the reader went through in her childhood and he can’t let the wrongs done to her go without risking their relationship, so he takes matters into his own hands.

Pairing: Aaron x BAU!Reader, fem!Reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: Angst/Comfort

Word Count: 14.9K

Content Warnings: Mention of childhood sexual abuse [reader] hoarding, gross bugs, phobias [reader] mention of food and drink, character in distress [reader] mention of death of a family member [reader].

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! It has been a good while since I’ve posted a fic. If you want that whole, what happened in Levi’s life recently story, feel free to check out my other posts. I can’t promise fics will be written and posted as often as they used to be, but I am still writing, and I still love Aaron. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

y/n = your name

y/n had been reserved since joining the BAU. Everyone noticed it. Worse than Emily, who had made a special kind of splash by crash landing ��by accident’ on the team. But y/n had been far from an accident. She’d been on an arranged agent swap with the General Directorate for Internal Security or the GDIS for short on their anti-terrorism team. After the ‘Je Suis Charlie’ incident in 2015, the U.S. was afraid of similar incidents happening in the States and had sent a few agents abroad to get a better grasp of the situation and then report back to the FBI and the Pentagon. y/n had been one of those agents. When she spotted a similar trend online that indicated that another attack was imminent she acted in time. The information had been found in a private Discord Server which Penelope had helped hack. The ring had been larger than any of the team could imagine, and having y/n on the team had been a help. It wasn’t a long time later before Dave sent y/n an invitation to join the team for a prolonged period of time. y/n had agreed. Getting an invitation to be on the BAU was like winning the lottery, and she hadn’t won anything in her life before, so she wasn’t going to give up this one chance to make something of herself.

The change from y/n’s original team to the BAU had been a culture shock, even though she’d been on the team for a short time before. Her somber and almost aloof attitude while in the office had rubbed some of the team the wrong way. Aaron had to remind them that they all had a period of adjustment, except for Spencer, who was basically raised in the FBI. All of the original members of the team had laughed at that and agreed with Hotch. However, time passed and yes, y/n had gotten better. She was less aloof, and the team realized they had mistaken that first emotion for a closed-offness that y/n kept herself in.

She was marvelous at redirecting conversations back to another member of the team, or vaguely answering without really giving any solid details. If their group had normal people, they wouldn’t have even noticed, and it was clear to all of them that y/n’s former team had been the same way too. However, the BAU relied very much on knowing each other, even if it wasn’t all the gory details, Hotch for one had never opened up about his younger years, but hints were appreciated, so they could keep each other safe.

For example, if the team hadn’t known how bad Spencer’s drug problem had been, they wouldn’t have been able to protect him from the legal ramifications of his actions. They had protected him from that. But over time, y/n had stayed wary and guarded, though she had started attending events with the team outside of work which was an improvement. Finally, JJ stepped in and told y/n, respectfully, if she could just try and talk more to the team. They wanted to know her and cared about what she thought. This had hurt y/n at first. She felt betrayed and that she’d let her new team down. y/n knew JJ was saying this in good faith and not to demean her in any way. She’d experienced that before and this wasn’t that. So, slowly, y/n had started talking more and giving her thoughts on things. She still stayed mostly quiet about herself. Why would remain a mystery to the team for a long, long, time?

Once when the team was out for a post-case, late-night meal, they were talking about and laughing, and Aaron was sitting across from y/n. He had paid a lot of attention to y/n. In some small ways, she reminded him of Elle, and he felt like he had failed Elle in some fundamental way when she had ‘left’ the team. No matter how much better y/n had become at sharing her emotions and opening up, there were still obvious tells that Hotch could perceive around a topic that made y/n wary. Things like family, or childhood, or the past. When these conversations started, as one had that evening, he watched as y/n’s face fell flat for just a micro-second. When her normally pretty expression changed to this, Aaron imagined y/n as a marble statue whose bright paint had chipped away decades ago. Someone stuck in a moment of anguish forever. y/n always snapped out of it, and the other members of the team didn’t seem to notice it, but Aaron did. He wondered what was behind those moments of affectless expression. It bothered him, but he didn’t pry. He hoped, that when the time was right, y/n would find the courage to open up herself. But he wasn’t going to pressure her into a confession. That was against his moral compass. He knew from personal experience that it was harder to speak about difficult things when pressure was added.

The team kept trekking on as the summer moved into the fall and a few more facets about y/n were discovered. The team was on a case in the Midwest. A small town off the beaten track where an unsub had been finding more and more gruesome ways to kill people. It was halfway through the case and the team was going back to the hotel to catch some sleep before the start of another day. 3:00 a.m. at a small motel was oddly liminal, and Hotch felt a sense of unease as they all trudged to their rooms. y/n was next to him on the left and he walked with her up the stairs on the outside of the building toward their rooms. y/n covered her mouth as she yawned. She’d told Hotch it was okay, that she could walk by herself, but he insisted he go with her. He didn’t like the idea of y/n walking around outside at this time of night, even if it would be under a five-minute walk.

y/n could feel her legs lagging up the stairs as she was so tired. She’d done a lot of physical work that day and her brain and body were protesting. As y/n lowered her hand from her mouth and said, “Sorry. Hotch. I’m so ready for bed.” What she was trying to say was that she was moving slowly, slowing him, and his long legs down from getting some sleep. Even though y/n wasn’t very clear with her words, Aaron understood what she meant and was about to say that it was totally fine, but as they reached the landing, an eerily human-child-sounding scream came from the dimly lit parking lot.

This shocked y/n and Aaron into awareness, and Hotch, subconsciously pulled y/n quickly behind his body. He could feel how tense y/n was. How on edge as her hand brushed his side to look around his body. He held his hand out to the side to keep her back in case it was a dangerous situation. Thankfully, a long second later, there was a thump and another sound as a skinny coyote scampered away from the dumpster in the corner of the lot. Both Aaron and y/n deflated and Hotch turned to look at y/n, and they both chuckled at how frightened they had been at the presence of an animal. They finished getting to their rooms and y/n raised a hand saying, “Night Hotch. See ya in the morning.” Aaron shot her a hint of a smile and said, “Sleep well, y/n.”

Aaron moved into his room and turned on the lamps. The walls were paper thin in the motel, and he heard as y/n moved around in her room just a wall away from his. Apart from that it was relatively quiet for a bit as Hotch got out of his black slacks and into the grey sweatpants he normally slept in during cases. They were soft and worn in a way he liked. He had just slipped on his classic white short-sleeved shirt from his suitcase and was just moving toward the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth when there was a yelp from y/n’s room, then a crash and the hurried steps of y/n running toward her door. He heard the rusty hinges scream as y/n moved outside and he wasn’t far after her. Outside he caught y/n putting her hand on her chest, breathing heavily and looking more than a little distraught. Before he could ask if everything was alright, Morgan came dashing up next to y/n and placed a hand on her back asking in his husky voice, “Everything alright, y/n? What’s going on?” Morgan was panting too as he had run up the stairs when he’d seen y/n come out of her room the way she had.

y/n cleared her throat and forced herself to visibly relax and take a breath before saying, “It’s nothing really, just a bad bug. Sorry, I might have overreacted.” Hearing this Derek let out a large laugh and said, “Wow, you really had me scared there for a second. Who knew that you could be scared by a bug? You’re always so stoic, y/n.” Hotch watched y/n laugh, but he could tell it was fake. Morgan continued, “What was it y/n? A spider or a scorpion? Want me to get it for you?” y/n smiled at the ground and said, “Nah, it’s fine. Thanks for the offer, Morgan. I was just surprised when I opened the bathroom door is all.” Derek shook his head and said, “Alright, well if you find any more nasty surprises in your room you just give me a call and I’ll sort it out for you.” y/n nodded and said, “Will do, Derek. You’re the best.” Morgan nodded and gave y/n a pat on the back and then moved past Hotch to get to his own room.

Aaron caught that y/n hadn’t elaborated on what the bug species was, and he noticed that she seemed to greatly relax once Morgan had made a joke of the whole situation which was clearly adversely affecting her. Once Derek was in his room, Hotch checked in saying, “What was it, y/l/n?” y/n’s head snapped up as if she’d forgotten he was there. y/n dropped her eyes to the ground again and said, “I don’t want to say it Hotch.” Aaron nodded and gently replied, “Does it start with an ‘r?’” y/n cringed but nodded yes. Aaron let out a breath and said, “You want me to get it for you?” After a moment, y/n looked up at Hotch, and he could see that she was embarrassed for being in this situation in the first place. Hotch moved a hand to y/n’s elbow and said, “y/n, I don’t mind. I know they’re gross.” Finally y/n looked at him and said, “Okay. Thanks, Aaron.” Hotch nodded and stepped inside. He kept his eyes mostly trained on the open bathroom door which light was spilling out of. He couldn’t help himself from seeing some of y/n’s more private clothing items on the bed before he moved his eyes safely to the stained carpet.

In the bathroom, the roach was comfortably hanging out on the wall near the sink. It was like the bug sensed Aaron’s presence and quickly and unnervingly moved off the wall and toward the shower. Hotch grabbed a handful of toilet paper to get the bug. He pulled back the clear plastic shower curtain and the roach moved again to the nearest dark corner. Aaron didn’t like these bugs either. It was something about the way they moved that freaked him out slightly, but he was older, and a man, and he didn’t mind doing this for y/n if it made her feel better. With a decisive move from his hand, Aaron caught the bug in the white paper and he didn’t pay attention as the bug’s body made a crunching sound as he closed his hand around the paper. He quickly threw the chitinous corpse into the toilet and flushed it away before closing the lid and stepping back through the room. He scanned the room to make sure there weren’t any more surprise bugs and he noticed the shattered lamp which y/n must have tipped over when she ran from the room. He strode across to the side of the bed, picked up the small trashcan, and moved back to the shattered pieces of the lamp.

Aaron didn’t notice as y/n, who had been standing at the threshold of the room dropped her hands from covering her mouth, as she chewed on her nails, a nervous tick of hers, and back to her sides. She walked back into the room and next to Hotch and said, “Hotch, you don’t need to do that. I can sort it out. I’m sorry.” Aaron finished picking up the largest parts of the lamp, careful not to cut his hands on any of the glass. Only after he had finished this did he stand and say, “It’s not a bother, y/n. I’m happy to help. You should call the front office and have someone come and get the rest of the glass this morning, and if you use the restroom in the middle of the night, at least what’s left of it, make sure to wear shoes.” y/n nodded timidly, and exhausted and tried not to think about Hotch thinking about her moving around her room in the middle of the night. “Thanks again,” she said as Aaron moved to the door and shut it for the last time that night.

Once Hotch was out of the room, y/n lay back on the bed so tired that she thought she might fall asleep right then and there. She thanked her guardian angel that she hadn’t seen the bad bug before she’d taken off her pants, because she would have run outside her room with or without pants on, and the idea of Derek, and more significantly, Aaron, seeing her in her underwear, she’d never live it down. After a moment, y/n turned her head to the door which she’d need to lock, and then toward the bathroom, which she still needed to use before she could fully relax. But given the bug and its essence that was left of it, no matter how small, y/n didn’t want to go back to the bathroom. She didn’t want to leave the bed. If she was younger, she’d have tucked her legs into her chest and stayed there for the rest of the night with all the light burning until the dawn sun illuminated her room in shades of pink and orange. But she wasn’t that little girl anymore, and she did get up and lock the door. She did put on shoes, as Aaron had suggested which felt good. It was nice and meant no glass pierced the soles of her feet and it meant she was off the ground. y/n knew this was silly, a coping technique she’d built for herself over the years, but it did give her the strength to quickly wash her face, brush her teeth, and put patches on her acne. By the time this was done, y/n moved back to her bed, turned off the lights, and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

In his room, Aaron moved back to the bathroom and took a shower before getting under the covers. He looked at the ceiling and realized that he’d learned more about y/n in his interaction with her that evening than he had in their whole time as Unit Cheif and supervisor. He pondered if he was wrong for wanting to know more about y/n. Why she was so closed off? What it was that she had to hide. He couldn’t help himself for thinking it was funny that she didn’t like bugs, but he couldn’t blame her for it either. It was never fun to have unwanted company, human or otherwise. He fell into the oblivion of sleep with a look of shame and perhaps gratitude as y/n had let him go into her room and take care of her unwanted guest.

Aaron didn’t make many more discoveries about y/n until a month later when it was close to 5:00 p.m. and he was sitting in his office. There was a soft knock on his door and he looked up to see y/n peaking into his office. He sat up a bit straighter and said, “Come in, y/n. Do you have a question about something?” y/n shuffled into the room and kept looking at the floor before she finally raised her eyes and met his. He could see that she was biting the inside of her cheek before she said, “I have a favor to ask you if you’re willing. If it’s too much then no worries at all, you just seemed like the right person for this problem I’m having.” Hotch’s eyes widened in surprise. What could y/n possibly need from him that someone else couldn’t offer? He hoped his intrigue didn’t play out on his face as he motioned for the chair across from his desk and said, “Well, let me know what we’re dealing with and then I can let you know. Is it a work thing? Please tell me it’s not a Drake-type of situation again, is it?” He was concerned now and looked at y/n’s face closely for signs of distress.

Drake had been an agent, who was quickly reassigned to a small HQ in Seattle who had made some untoward comments toward other female agents, including y/n. It had been y/n who had gone to JJ, and JJ who had gone to him to reveal the whole situation. When Aaron heard this he got so angry that he stood, placed his hands on his desk to steady himself before he sat back down, and asked JJ to tell him everything she knew as he grew more and more disgusted by some of the male agents in the building. He’d taken the situation to HR and made sure that y/n nor any of the other female agents were named in the official complaint before going to Strauss and basically demanding a transfer for Drake or outright termination.

Aaron was thankful when y/n nodded her head no and said, “No, Sir. Nothing like that,” as she sat across from him. He pushed aside his laptop so that there wasn’t anything blocking their view and he waited for y/n to say what had brought her in. After a moment of silence y/n let out a breath and said, “It’s really silly, actually…” Hotch stopped her from continuing by leveling a friendly glare at y/n which made her stop and try again. y/n swallowed and said, “Well, last month there was a leak in my apartment that never got fully fixed. It was livable, but I think there’s mold in my unit now which I think has made me sick again and off again for the last two weeks. I need to get it tested, but I was wondering if there was something in my lease that I might use against my apartment complex to break my lease?” y/n looked over at Hotch. His large brown eyes only seemed more intense in the low light of his lamps. She knew he was listening to her, wanting all of the pieces of the puzzle she was trying to tell him so he could help her. That was one thing y/n loved about Aaron. He never ignored anyone on the team or anyone in need of help, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed some help. y/n continued by saying, “And, well, I’ve tried reading my lease a few times but it doesn’t make any sense to me. There is a clause about mold, but I can’t figure out the legal jargon. I was wondering if you could read it over for me if it’s not too big a bother.”

Hotch could see y/n rubbing her hands together softly on her legs, a self-soothing gesture she was prone to when y/n was stressed. He let out a little breath and said, “Of course I can, y/n. I’d be happy to help you.” He paused before adding, “I can also probably fix your leak issue while we work out the logistics of the lease. If there is mold, and you did get sick from it, there might be grounds for a civil suit, if you wanted to take legal action that is.” y/n’s face settled into one that was relaxed, and replied, “I’m not sure if I have the energy for that. I don’t even know if I have the energy to move. I’d just like to have the option. To know that I have an option.” Hotch nodded in understanding but didn’t say that. Instead, he stated, “Well, how about we set up a date for me to look over the lease and or your apartment if you want? I’m open this weekend if that works for you?” Hotch felt strange almost inviting himself into her home. He could easily read y/n’s lease in the office, but something told him not to.

Although Hotch was far from a Marxist he didn’t believe in bringing personal work into the office. He would happily take office work home, but not visa versa. Also, by throwing out an open date for him, which he didn’t often have, he hoped y/n would realize that he did want to help her, not only with her legal issues but with her apartment which was apparently falling apart and making her ill. The idea of that bothered him more than it should have. Aaron was forced from his own head when y/n said, “Yeah. That works for me. Um, what time would you like to come over?” Surprised that y/n would let him of all people, into her space he replied, “How about 9:30? Is that too early for you?” Again Aaron was faced with the fact that he hardly knew anything about y/n. Did she wake up late on the weekends like Reid? Did she work out like he and Morgan did? Did she go out with friends to brunch like Emily? Did she have a boyfriend or girlfriend to wake up to like JJ did every morning? Not all of this information about his teammates had just been told to him, but he knew it nonetheless, and being so bereft of details about y/n’s life made him feel like he knew nothing about her, even if that wasn’t true.

Aaron’s eyes moved up as y/n said, “Hotch, Hotch. 9:30 is great for me. Is it okay with you?” Hotch felt awkward having been caught unaware twice by y/n in the course of under an hour. Aaron replied, “Yes. Sorry, I’m distracted today, y/n. Can you text me your address and I’ll put it in my calendar?” y/n smiled and replied, “Sure thing, Hotch. Thank you for the help.” Aaron nodded and said, “Let me know if you need a place to crash before Saturday. I bet the Bureau can get you a hotel room or something. I don’t think staying in a place that might be making you sick is in the best interest of the department, or my agent.” y/n tried to hide her smile at Aaron’s concern for her. He was trying to mask it too, but not very well. She told him she’d let him know and left his office feeling better than she had in some time.

That Saturday was the first time that Aaron saw y/n’s apartment. As y/n walked him toward the AC unit that had been leaking, he tried to look around without it looking too obvious. His eyes scanned the kitchen and living room and then he moved into y/n’s small bedroom. They were chatting about their days so far, and as Aaron sat down on the floor, y/n handed him Philip’s head screwdriver to remove the grate from the crawl space below her AC. y/n asked, “So you really run five miles every Saturday morning? How do you deal with the heat? I’m tempted to just stay in all the time during summer.” Aaron let out a chuckle and said, “I think you build up the tolerance. And I wear a lot of sunscreen. They say fresh air is good for you, especially if you’re living in an apartment with mold.” Hotch had meant the statement as a joke, but when y/n didn’t laugh, he bit his tongue and hoped he hadn’t offended her. He didn’t mean to, but by the time he was formulating a response, he noticed the drip and the simple fix to the issue. An issue that the repairmen who had been there a few times already should have easily fixed weeks ago. He grunted slightly as he inched his way forward on his elbows with a wrench in one hand and a flashlight in the other.

This time in the small space did give him the opportunity to think about y/n’s place a bit more. It was old but decently maintained, and it was clean. When he’d done the walk to get to this part of the house, he hadn’t thought much about it. But now as he saw normal signs of an older building, cobwebs, stains, and dust, he realized he’d seen very little of that in y/n’s space. It was like the apartment was staged, waiting for the photographers to come from Architectural Digest to get their pictures and get her opinion on the Pantene color of the year. y/n didn’t have a lot of things. Her furnishings were sparse but looked comfortable enough. But inside, Aaron had the feeling that maybe somewhere, storage, the attic - there wasn’t one - a closet, there were boxes of things that gave meaning to y/n’s life that she’d neglected to put out or up. Hotch sighed as he tightened the bolt that was allowing water to drip down the side of y/n’s pipes. There were multiple spots like this. It would take a while and some maneuvering on his part, but Hotch didn’t mind. This reminded him of his first apartment in college, but that was much more of a mess. Living with three other guys, it was bound to happen, even if he kept his space relatively clean.

It took Hotch a few minutes to finish up the work on the leaks before he wriggled back into the bedroom. y/n extended a hand to him, and he took it as he stood with a small grunt. He was happy he hadn’t changed out of his workout clothes because being in such a confined space had made him even more sweaty. He rubbed a hand over his forehead and said, “Well, I think I have it all fixed down there, except for a small puddle from the leak. I can clean that up for you if you like.” y/n nodded her head no and said, “It’s fine, Hotch. You’ve done so much already, I can clean it up in a moment. I’m a bit, picky, with my cleaning habits.” Aaron nodded and said, “I get you. Reid is the same way.” y/n gave an understanding nod, and Hotch looked over y/n’s shoulder to the pictures neatly framed on y/n’s far wall. There were a few with y/n and some friends, maybe some from college and a few from her years in Paris. The photos had good composition even if they were only shot on an iPhone. Even though he had said it, Aaron knew Spencer wasn’t the same as y/n. They both cared for cleanliness, that was obvious, but there was something different about y/n that he couldn’t pin down. Some facts that he felt he was missing.

Aaron wiped his dusty hands on his shorts and y/n said, “Do you want to wash your hands? Who knows what kind of gross stuff is under there.” She eyes the open grate and Hotch replied, “Yes, please. It’s not actually that bad down there, just dust mainly.” He chose not to talk about the spider webs, given y/n’s aversion to bugs. He’d swept away the webs anyway so she wouldn’t have to see them. y/n pointed Hotch to the door of the bathroom and he stepped inside closing the door He took a minute to look at his reflection. He didn’t look as sweaty as he felt, which he was grateful for. ‘Why does it matter?’ Aaron asked himself as he rinsed off his hands and then added a generous amount of hand soap into his palms. As he lathered the soap and then rinsed it off Hotch tried to quell the thoughts which had subconsciously been growing since he’d seen y/n looking frightened at the motel. If he tried hard enough, he could play them off in his head as protective, a fatherly gesture, but in his spirit, he knew this wasn’t true. Hotch dried his hand and pushed his hair around a bit until he liked how it sat. His ego nudged him whispering, ‘Vanity, Hotchner.” He snorted slightly and left the bathroom before he could get more in his head about his appearance. That wasn’t the point of him being here in the first place.

By the time Aaron stepped back into y/n’s room, she had added three of the four screws back on the grate and into the wall covering the gaping hole that had been there. y/n looked up at him and smiled as she said, “Well now that you’ve helped me fix the leak I don’t think I have a reason to sue the landlord.” Hotch pressed his lips together before replying, “Well that might be true, but I think if your apartment is using a subcontractor for maintenance you could sue them for not knowing how to do their jobs.” y/n chuckled but as a big fan of not having any extra confrontation in her life, she didn’t think she’d be taking Hotch up on that offer. Instead, she asked, “Could I pay you back with a coffee, Hotch? There’s a good spot two blocks over. I was going to go there anyway to hang out for a bit.” Before the logical or even aware part of Aaron’s mind could respond he said, “You don’t mind going out with me looking like this?” His self-consciousness side blurted out what he was trying to avoid thinking in the bathroom. For a second Aaron felt like chucking himself out y/n’s bedroom window as he internally cringed so hard that his stomach hurt.

y/n took a moment to process what Aaron had said and she stopped herself from scratching the back of her head in confusion. “‘You don’t mind going out with me looking like this?’” What the hell did that even mean? Did Hotch know how he looked? How her seeing him in something that wasn’t a suit had almost taken her breath away and sped up her heart rate three times past normal? She had thought as he worked on her AC, his body half buried in the wall, ‘He could send out a warning if he’s not going to show up in a suit. Good god, give a girl one chance not to be fucking lusting over her boss.’ She had been embarrassed by the thought, as Hotch clearly was embarrassed now. To not make the situation any more strange than it was and tried humor saying, “You mean like a guy wearing shorts and a Nike shirt?” y/n never knew if jokes would work with Aaron. He seemed to have a very sharp wit and she never knew where jokes would land with him. Thankfully this one worked and Hotch let out one of his rare laughs, shaking his head slightly at his inability to keep unwanted thoughts in. At least he hadn’t made a comment about y/n, who he thought looked lovely in her more relaxed outfit. After a moment of silence, he blinked and said, “Well alright then. You lead the way, though your apartment should be paying you for having to deal with this.” y/n chuckled and grabbed her purse as Hotch got his keys and wallet from the counter. They spent the next half hour chatting comfortably about work or people in the office, and whatever came up naturally. It was pleasant for both of them to just be allowed to relax in the presence of the other for once. When they had finished, Aaron thought for a moment that he understood y/n better. He did, but the most enlightening thing he would learn about y/n would come later in the year, and when it did, it hit Hotch like a load of bricks.

It was September, and the weather was just starting to get cool in Virginia. The crispness of the air had the team in mostly good spirits. The latest cases had been easier. Hotch was sipping his coffee from a cup Jack had given him for Father’s Day last year when there was a knock on his office door. He looked up from the rim of his cup to see y/n pop into the room and close the door behind her. After he’d helped her with her apartment, she had been more relaxed around him, and came to him every now and then with questions she still had about past cases or current files the team was supposed to do. The forms were often asinine and useless you’d been working in the department for years. Every time y/n made an appearance, Hotch had to settle himself and act calmly. It reminded him so much of the first time y/n had asked him for a favor. When she had been a new agent and afraid to disappoint him and the rest of the team. But this time was different and he could tell. This wasn’t y/n being shy to ask for help, or ‘checking in on him’ as she said when she had no reason to be in his office but inexplicably wanted to be there anyway. When y/n stepped in there was no attempt at a dad-joke. Instead, she was looking at his carpeted floor and there was an aurora of burden that came with her.

Hotch was up and out of this chair before the words, “What’s happened, y/n?” left his mouth. y/n swallowed dryly and looked up at Aaron. He could see her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. y/n sniffled and stepped forward, leaning against the edge of Aaron’s desk as she said the easy part first, “I need some time off. A week or so, maybe more.” Hotch nodded his head in understanding saying, “Of course, you can get all the time you need. Can you tell me what happened, please?” There was silence, and y/n looked at her hands as she shakily replied, “My mom died yesterday. She made me the executor of her estate, so I need to go down to her house and work some things out with her will.” Hotch moved from his side of the desk to y/n’s and gently wrapped her in a hug. He could feel her shaking against him. He held her without much force, just giving her something softer to cling to than the sharp edge of his oak desk. y/n was grateful that Aaron had moved to this position. That she didn’t have to look at his face which was filled with worry. And she could not only hide her sadness but also her shame in the crook of his neck and shoulder. After a comfortable amount of time, y/n stood back and asked, “Can I leave now, or do you want me to stay till the EOD?” Hotch’s grip on y/n’s arms tightened slightly as he looked down at her and said, “Of course, you can leave now. I’ll send HR a memo. The team will help you if you want y/n. I’ll help you with anything you need. You just have to ask.”

y/n sniffled and ran her hand under her nose which she knew was unbecoming of a federal agent, but she was past spent and decorum had seemed to go out the back door with the news that she would need to return to her childhood home. A place she had avoided for many years now. Her behavior repulsed her, expanded by her sense of shame. She didn’t want anyone with her for this. No one could see, and no one on the team could know. Still looking down, y/n said, “Thank you, Hotch. Can you just tell the team that a family emergency came up? This situation, it’s, it’s private, and I think I need some time to just get my head around it.”

Hotch nodded in understanding. He had had moments when the rug had absolutely been ripped from underneath him. Aaron felt that there was something more going on, but he knew now was not the time to pry. Instead, he said, “Yes, of course, y/n. Can you just send me the address of the spot you’ll be staying at so I can give it to HR. They’ll ask you for it anyway, so if you let me know I can help you skip that step.” y/n looked at Hotch and said, “Sure Hotch. Thanks. I’m just going to get my stuff and go.” Aaron let y/n go and he watched her walk to his door, turn, and raise a hand half-heartedly before saying, “Thanks,” one more time and slipping out the door as quietly as she had come in.

Hotch felt a tug at his chest. There was a small feeling of dread that he couldn’t not feel after y/n had left the room which made it hard for him to do anything else than send the forms to HR on y/n’s behalf. He leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh. He hadn’t once heard y/n talk about her parents. He knew that they had existed. It was on her transfer paper and application to the BAU. Clearly, the government had to know pretty much everything about a person to hire them into the inner ranks. But unlike Reid and Morgan, and occasionally Emily, y/n didn’t relegate any details about family around the team. He had always pictured her as an island, alone. At that moment Aaron decided that he would check in on y/n often in her absence. He hoped it wouldn’t ruin the trust they had slowly built between them, but his conscious wouldn’t let him not make sure she was okay because something inside him told him there was more going on here than simple grief. That feeling only grew worse as three days passed and y/n didn’t answer any of his calls and only one of his texts asking if she was okay, or if she needed anything. He’d offered to send her food, or coffee, or anything to her hotel, but there had just been one text: “Sorry Hotch, I’m too busy to think about this right now, thanks for the offer, I’ll take you up on it once I have more finished.”

On the fourth day, a Saturday, Hotch couldn’t take the silence anymore. He knew he was pushing it, but he had y/n’s hotel address and the address of her mom’s house because she said she’d be at both pretty often working on things. Aaron thought it was absurd that the FBI still asked for a mailing address when someone went on leave. It was like asking for a fax number when everyone had a cell phone in their pocket. That was what made y/n’s non-response so jarring. As Aaron put the second address into his GPS, he was surprised to see that it was only a forty-five-minute drive away. He considered that y/n probably could have stayed at her apartment if she wanted to, but as Aaron got further from the city and into the exurbs, past the exurbs even to roads in disrepair, closed CVS’s franchises, and mobile homes, he realized that this juxtaposition from the luxury and safety of the city to this could be exhausting apart from all the emotions and work she was doing. Aaron wasn’t exactly surprised by what he saw as he got further and further away from Quantico. He knew the makeup of Southwestern Virginia, but the poverty of the area never failed to make him take a hard look at what had once been a thriving community. He didn’t want this part of y/n’s past to affect how he saw her. Not that he’d ever judge her for living in a place like this, but with her life being so guarded, he couldn’t help but make assumptions about why she had remained quiet so often.

When Hotch got the the far edge of one of the many trailer and mobile home parks it was easy to find y/n even if she hadn’t answered his two calls that morning. The only thing Aaron needed to see, y/n’s old car, was parked outside of the mobile home at the far edge of the plot. There was no house number or mailbox to indicate he was at the right place, but he knew he was. He parked beside y/n’s car and stepped out of his. As he walked closer to the house and locked his car doors he noticed the very rundown state of affairs at the domicile. Most of the windows were covered with cardboard and mildew was creeping up the edge of the fake wood siding of the housing. A few feet away from the front screened door the small assaulted his nostrils and he had to take a few deep breaths through his mouth to stop from being ill. The scent was distinctly one of rot, waste, and decay. With his arm over his mouth, Aaron wondered if y/n’s mother had died and been found a few days or perhaps a week after she had been deceased. The thought appalled him for y/n’s sake, and the idea of her being inside the home made him quicken his steps to see what was going on.

Aaron moved up the two cracked and chipped concrete steps. He knocked on the gnarled screen door. y/n had kept the inner glass door open to get better air circulation of air in the room. Hotch swallowed and softly shouted, “y/n? y/n, are you in there? It’s Aaron.” The sound seemed to be absorbed into the house, the doors gaping mouth sucking everything into its blackness. The inside of the house was dim. Hotch couldn’t see any lights on and there seemed to be piles of stuff near the door half blocking it. Before Hotch stepped inside he thought that maybe the piles of boxes might be y/n packing up her mother’s things to get rid of or sell. However, after a minute of y/n not answering, Aaron decided to move inside the home and realized he was wrong. Hotch had to open the door and slide through the opening sideways to fit around the boxes which he realized were a fire hazard right away. As he was about to call to y/n again, Aaron’s eyes adjusted to the room and the words died on his lips.

The front room of the small mobile home was filled with stuff. Boxes upon boxes were piled on top of each other. Many of which seemed to be growing mold or deteriorating. The boxes at the bottom were falling apart and yellowed or brown. The floors were also filthy, sticky, and littered with debris. As Aaron moved his way carefully further into the room he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the sheer number of things around him. Not only were the boxes and trash overwhelming, but the scent had gotten considerably worse now that he was inside. After Hotch passed another pile of boxes, papers, and files he noticed that in the far corner was a couch which had one cushion cleared of garbage. It was the only clear spot he had seen in the house at all. Not that the couch cushion was clean, it was stained and smelled, but it didn’t have stuff on it. Aaron was coming to the realization of what y/n had grown up around as he rounded the corner into the kitchen area.

This space was different and yet the same as the rest of the house. In the kitchen the windows weren’t covered up, so there was more natural light which highlighted the clutter even more. This clutter also wasn’t in boxes. It was on the counters and piled in all of the corners and crevices. The scent of rot was so bad here as boxes of discarded food, possibly years old sat on counters and in the sink. There were plates and cups forgotten and even as Hotch surveyed the disgusting scene he could tell there were bugs festering in the piles of rotting paper plates and unfinished coffee cups. There was one trash bag, half full of stuff sitting on top of one of the piles, but that was the only sign of life that Aaron could sense. From how bad the hoarding looked, he assumed that this had been going on for years, if not multiple decades.

Hotch was fully in the kitchen and had almost forgotten why he was there. He was so surprised by what he was seeing that when y/n, who was very confused as to why her boss was inside her deceased mom’s house, rounded the corner, she was startled at his presence. Aaron whipped around effectively knocking a pile of things off of the metal folding table onto the floor. He watched as if in slow motion as a glass half of a puss-colored liquid crashed to the ground and broke. It seemed so loud in the small confines of the house that seemed to absorb all sounds into its piles of decay. He and y/n looked at the mess he’d made for a half second before a number of bugs, bugs that Aaron knew y/n didn’t like scurried out from the pile on the floor, and from the kitchen counters and onto the walls. y/n saw the bugs as clearly as Hotch and nearly jumped out of her skin swatting and brushing herself, afraid that some had gotten on her. Her breath had picked up and Hotch could see that y/n might be sick. Hotch’s instincts kicked in and he didn’t even apologize or explain why he was there. He simply knew that he had to get y/n out of this house. As far away as he possibly could. He stepped forward ignoring the retreating bugs looking for cover in some other dark corner of the room, took y/n’s arm in his, and started leading her toward the front door. y/n was trying to say something to him, ask him a question perhaps, but the blood was pumping in his ears and his heart was thumping in his chest. He’d answer any questions y/n had once they were outside.

Aaron didn’t care that some boxes fell as he pushed the pile in front of the door out of the way. He could feel y/n shaking now and he wrenched open the screen door and followed her out, down the stairs, and into the front yard. y/n was still shaking and patting herself down like she might explode into flames while looking for bugs. Hotch stepped forward assertively and stilled her hands as he thoroughly brushed her off from her arms and shoulders, then down her chest and legs. He then moved to her back and did the same thing. When he did find a bug, he brushed it off and didn’t say a thing about it. When he got back to y/n’s front, she was breathing harshly through her teeth but seemed to calm down as she asked, “What are you doing here, Hotch?”

Hotch looked at y/n and her eyes were telling him two stories. One was logical, “Is there a case? Did something bad happen? Do you need help?” and the other was everything else, “I didn’t want you here, go away, can’t you see what I’m going through?” Aaron felt terrible for how this had ended. He hadn’t expected this, but he knew the best answer was the truth, so he said, “I was worried about you,” and nothing else. y/n sniffled and wrapped her arms around herself before looking over Aaron’s shoulder and into the house. y/n spoke the truth too, Hotch could always tell when she was lying: “I didn’t want anyone to see this.” Aaron swallowed and nodded, replying, “I know. I’m sorry.” He hadn’t known of course, but now he did, and all he could do was apologize.

y/n composed herself. Putting her emotions back into all the boxes where they belonged and stood waiting for Hotch to say or do something. She knew if she started whatever conversation was about to happen she’d break, and she never wanted that. It was the thing that she had learned since leaving home; her secret weapon. Lie, tell half-truths, don’t show your emotions. Don’t let them know where you come from or who you really are, because if they knew, they’d never understand or give a damn about you. Slightly delusionally, y/n hoped that Aaron would get back into his car and leave, pretending he hadn’t seen anything. That he didn’t know her secret, and when she came back from leave, he wouldn’t say anything. He was kind, maybe he’d forget for her sake?

Aaron watched the emotions play across her face like a silent film star on the big screen. It was only a series of seconds before y/n was back to the person he knew. The silence was intense and instead of leading with his emotions, Hotch tried to think logically. He assumed if he went from the heart he’d say something or ask a question that would distance y/n from him forever. So instead he asked the first logical question that came to mind, “Have you been in the house long?” Hotch was concerned that y/n might get sick again, this time from real mold and whatever other bad things inside the home, though his brain could think of little else apart from y/n not only as a child but an adult in such squalor.

y/n’s soft, “No” had him relax. One thing was for sure, if he could avoid it, he wouldn’t be having y/n go back in there. Hotch looked back at y/n as she continued speaking, “I’ve mostly been in my hotel looking over the legal documents and trying to set my mom’s debts in order. And arrange some kind of funeral, though I doubt people will show up. She was kind of a recluse near the end of her life.” Aaron nodded along, grateful that she hadn’t spent much time here. He looked around the yard, unwilling to leave y/n here in this state, but also awkward about how he’d discovered this part of her past that she had so desperately hidden away like the trash inside. Aaron composed his next sentence carefully and asked, “Is there anything important that you need inside? Any of your mom’s documents, or items that have value?” Hotch tried to sound sincere in his words. He meant them, but with so much stuff inside, most of it looking like garbage, he knew it could come off as sounding condescending or like a joke.

y/n thought for a moment, shifting uncomfortably on her feet before saying, “All the important stuff is out like her documents and stuff. I really should go back in and start cleaning. I rented a dumpster out back for the week and it’s not going to fill itself.” Hotch appreciated that y/n was trying to be lighthearted through this, but he shook his head no, replying, “I’ll hire someone to come and clean up. y/n. I don’t want you going back in there.” He didn’t phrase it like a command. On this account, he had no authority apart from his care and growing feelings for y/n.

At Aaron’s offer, y/n looked back at the house from which she had fled so many times. Could this be the last time? Could she walk away and never look back? Never feel like she was slowly being buried alive by junk and trinkets and trash? She took a breath of clean air and considered that maybe she could. Maybe this was the end she had been dreaming of for so long. Maybe someone had finally come to save her from this hell. As she was about to turn around and say, “Yes, please. Let’s do that,” to Aaron, a single item crossed y/n’s mind and she paused. She looked up at Aaron and truly asked for help for the first time in a long time. “There’s a stuffed rabbit inside. It’s in my room I think. Could you get it for me?” In asking this of Aaron, she was opening herself to him almost wholly. It was an invitation for him to see all of the parts of herself that she had hidden. It was the chance to be ridiculed as she had by friends in childhood who came over and saw how she lived. It was the chance for men, older men, to not even come inside and leave her mother sobbing in the front yard. y/n was already swallowing back the tears when Aaron would say no and leave her. It was all too much for most people. It had been too much for her too. She wouldn’t blame Aaron as he drove away to something safe. To a clean apartment and shower. To a son who loved him. To someone who was no longer his wife, but someone who still cared. Given that choice, how can you pick the former?

“Where’s the bunny? Is it a certain color?” The questions almost knocked y/n off her feet. She took in more air before saying, “It’s in the very back room. It used to be my bedroom. It’s pink with a white nose and long floppy ears.” Aaron nodded, shaking off his coat, ready to go back inside. As he moved past y/n, she grabbed his arm and said, “You don’t have to do this Hotch. It may not even be in there.” They both looked at the home and this time Aaron tried to be optimistic as he said, “y/n, do you really think your mom got rid of your childhood stuffie?” y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the ludicrous question. She let Hotch go and watched as he entered the house while her heart was trying to figure out what to do with itself. Since she had heard the news of her mom’s passing, she was on the precipice of a very high and ragged cliff face. All she would have to do was fall and everything would be over, but Aaron was like the pair of strong arms that held her back. Asking if this was what she really wanted.

Aaron went back into the house once more trying to ignore the smell. He carefully pushed past the kitchen and into the narrow hallway. There was hardly room for him to squeeze his broad frame though. He found himself coughing a lot as particulate matter got into his system. Once out of the darkened hallway, he moved to the final door at the end of the home, peaking into the two other rooms, the main bedroom and the bathroom which were somehow worse than the front of the house. The farther he got back the more the trash piled up. He paid no mind to what was on the floor or what he was stepping on or over to get y/n what she needed to be rid of this place. He’d have to look up hoarding more thoroughly now. He’d been to a few homes on cases in the past where it had seemed to be an issue, he’d even had to call CPS on one family so they would get their act together. However, this was the worst case he’d ever seen, and he could only imagine what it was like growing up in an environment like this. Hotch had so many questions he felt like asking, so many ideas running through his mind, but he knew he’d have to be sensitive. Now was not a time for an interrogation. Now was the moment to remind y/n that he would support her. That he could be there for her, and if he couldn’t say the other things he might want to, the things he kept hidden himself, the least he could do was that.

Hotch had to push open the door harshly to get into the back room. It was so dark inside that Aaron pulled out his phone and turned the flashlight on. This sent multiple bugs and what Hotch assumed was a small rat scampering into the dark. Aaron was surprised at how overwhelmed he could be by this problem, but even being in the house for a few minutes had him desperate for space and clean air. y/n’s apartment made total sense to him now. There was no clear path in this room and Hotch moved over whatever he needed to to get to the far wall. Under a window that was also covered with cardboard, he found a twin bed. It was mostly clear of stuff apart from the detritus in the room and he wondered if y/n or her mother had kept that one space clean. He was thankful to see the stuffed animal was on the center of the bed, old and stained brown by some substance of unknown origins. Aaron picked it up and moved as quickly and carefully as he could back out of the house. He attempted to look like he wasn’t running out of the place to not make y/n feel worse about his being there, but there was no hiding that once he was outside he felt so much better. He drank in the air like water and had a final fit of coughing before he moved toward y/n.

The very sight of Aaron with her old stuffed animal had y/n near tears again. She could have lived without it, but it had been a single constant in her life and it was a reminder of everything she’d lived through. Having it felt like a trophy: “I made it. I’m here. Look at where I am now.” As soon as Hotch handed the bunny over with his long arms, and once y/n’s hands were around the worn-out toy whose fur was all but gone where she had hugged it as a child, she broke. There was nothing or no one that could have stopped her from pulling the rabbit to her chest and crumbling to the ground with sobs that wracked her body so hard that it hurt to breathe. Hotch watched as she crumbled to the ground and he ran forward trying to catch y/n, but she slipped out of his grasp like oil. y/n was curled in on herself and shaking and Hotch bit the inside of his lip. He moved slowly, not going to make any surprise moves on y/n’s fragile mental state, as he lowered himself to the ground. Once on his knees, Aaron leaned forward and placed one of his large hands on y/n’s back. She didn’t pull back from his touch, either too overwhelmed to do so, or comforted by him. Either way, after a moment Hotch leaned in further and covered her more with his body, anchoring her to something other than the ground and herself.

It felt like a long time, like forever until y/n’s cries weakened and her breathing evened out. y/n let her body relax slightly, exhausted by her outburst. There were so many things y/n wanted to say to Aaron about how she was behaving. She figured this type of volatility could get her kicked off of the BAU, which is one reason she’d not wanted anyone’s help with this situation. She wanted to apologize but all she could say was the question that had been plaguing her for years, “Do you know what it feels like to have someone that’s supposed to love you chose absolutely shitty worthless trash over you? Do you know what that’s like Hotch?” y/n had spoken so softly that it was hard for Aaron to understand her, but the existential ache in her voice was one he knew well and he replied honestly, “No, y/n. I don’t, and I’m sorry you have to ask questions like that to yourself.” There was another loaded pause and y/n let herself go fully limp. Hotch hadn’t left yet and there was nothing left to lose if she just let go for a moment. She’d spent her energy, there was nothing left to give. Hotch supported y/n’s body, never letting it fully lay on the ground. He looked over her and said softly, “Let me get you to your hotel, y/n. Or just away from here, okay?”

y/n nodded and Hotch helped her to her feet. She leaned on him heavily. Letting him take her anywhere but here. The pair was moving toward Aaron’s car when they stopped. y/n looked up from the ground to see what the issue was and why they had stopped. As soon as she saw who was approaching them, she froze. Went absolutely stiff as a board, and if Aaron hadn’t been there she would have fallen over, but her hands gripped onto his shoulder like a vice and she could feel him flinch but not move away.

Aaron saw the man walking their way slightly later than he’d liked. He was leading y/n toward his car. He was going to take her to the hotel and try and get some food and water in her before making any more suggestions. But this new man, though he seemed harmless could pose a problem to him getting them out of there as fast as possible. The approaching figure walked with a limp and was probably about fifteen years older than Hotch. When he stopped he could feel y/n stop too, bumping into him slightly. He could feel her eyes lift past his shoulder where y/n’s hand was resting and the change in demeanor was so drastic that he could feel it. The coldness and stiffness radiating off y/n signaled her discomfort along with her harsh grip on his body. Instinctually he moved in front of y/n. Whoever this guy was, he was bad news. Hotch’s protective stance didn’t stop the man from walking about a foot from them and saying in a weak voice, “y/n. Is that you? It’s hard to believe it’s you. I haven’t seen you in years.” The man spoke like Aaron wasn’t even there, and there was an awkward pause when y/n should have responded back in some way but didn’t. That didn’t stop the man from continuing like nothing odd was happening here and saying, “I heard about your mother, y/n. I’m sorry… I just wanted to come over here and let you know.” y/n’s grip tightened on his shoulder even more but he didn’t grimace, and when y/n replied in a voice so void that he wouldn’t believe she was there if she wasn’t holding him so tight, “I’m sure you are,” Aaron knew something terrible had happened between them. No one sounded like y/n without it, whatever it was, it was bad.

That was when the flip switched on in Hotch and he moved in front of y/n totally blocking her from view. If looks could kill the man in front of Hotch would have been found in cardiac arrest so bad that it seemed medically impossible. Aaron didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to as the man finally noticed his presence and almost wilted on site. The man opened his mouth and extended his hand out a millimeter but then just as quickly shut his chapped lips and turned on his heel moving as fast as she could without it looking like an outright sprint toward another building further in the neighborhood.

Once the man was out of sight, Aaron moved y/n to his car and opened the door for her. She slipped into the passenger seat and was back to her early state in the BAU. When she would lose all affect. Hotch helped buckle her in and then got in on the driver’s side. He started the car and turned on the AC, it had gotten surprisingly warm and Hotch felt flushed and he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or something else. The pair didn’t talk during the ten-minute drive to y/n’s hotel. However, Hotch looked over at y/n every now and then to make sure she was still with him. It felt like if he didn’t stay tuned in on her she might slip away to a place he’d never be able to find her again. At the hotel, Hotch asked y/n what her room number was and she said, “251” and handed over her key fob. Hotch took it in his hand and led y/n inside and up to her room. If a stranger walked past them they might think something sketchy was going down. y/n looked drugged from her state and Aaron was like someone taking advantage of that opportunity. But there was no one there to see them, and for that, Hotch was grateful.

y/n slumped into bed and Hotch sat down on the edge of the mattress. He knew that he needed to give y/n space. To let her rest and recover herself from what must have been a terrible day even though it had only been an hour that he’d been with her. He’d ask her if she’d like him to leave or stay, but first, he asked, “y/n, who was that guy?” For the first time since they’d gotten to the hotel room, y/n looked at Aaron and said in a whisper, “Don’t make me say it, Aaron. Please…” Hotch needed and put his hand on her shoulder and nodded. He didn’t need to know. Inside he knew, and he realized in that moment he wasn’t leaving y/n alone. Not ever; she’d been alone for too long and he’d help her change that if she wanted that.

It wasn’t until a few months later, when the air had cleared and the skies stopped looking perpetually gray that y/n told Aaron what he had asked months ago. This was after they had been dating for a while. He knew almost everything about her now. He had found out the main source of her shame and after that there had been little to hide from him, thus beginning a relationship had been natural. She had asked him many times why he came that day and his answers varied, but the theme was consistent. “I was worried about you. I had a bad feeling. I just needed to be there,” and whatever other motivation Hotch might have had conscious or not y/n didn’t question them. He’d come when she had needed someone and now as they were laying next to each other, in their pajamas and a sheet over them she’d tell him the rest.

y/n rolled on her side and ran her hand down Aaron’s sharp jawline. His stubble was slightly growing out, and she knew he’d shave it later that day. His dark eyes found hers and a hint of a smile on his face. y/n said, “Hotch, you once asked about that guy, in my mom’s neighborhood. Do you still want to know?” Hotch’s eyelids closed slightly. He was thinking through this offer. It wouldn’t change anything about how he thought about y/n. He had the utmost respect for y/n and how she had handled her life after all the terrible situations she’d lived through. And this would be no different. He knew he’d respect y/n for how she’d acted in whatever situation she had been put in, but his response wouldn’t change. Because of that he honestly replied, “y/n, if it would bring you peace and make you feel better then I’d like you to tell me. If it would make you feel bad or change anything then I don’t need to know. I’d like to know, but there are parts of ourselves that can stay hidden if it’s for the best. I trust you to know what’s best.”

y/n had a feeling this would be the response from Aaron. He always was so considerate of her and her past. She knew that even though Hotch said he wouldn’t look at her differently, there was the nagging feeling in her mind, that was always in her mind, that the truth would push whoever she was with away. And even if it was slightly selfish, y/n loved Aaron so much that if she had to lose him, then she’d rather be the one to cut the cord sooner rather than latery/n let out a deep breath and said, “I’d like to tell you.” y/n paused before adding, “I’ve never told this to anyone before, so if I get confused or it sounds weird, I’m sorry.” Hotch nodded with understanding. He placed his hand on y/n’s arm and looked at her with encouragement.

y/n got that far-away look in her eyes as she did when she thought about the far-away past. However, he could tell that she wasn’t fully immersed in the memories as her thumb glided over his knuckles. Aaron wondered if it was too painful to fully go back there, but either way, he was ready to listen. y/n took a shallow breath and said, “My mom’s… problems… have always been there. She used to tell me that it had nothing to do with me. I got that, or I tried to, but even if the hoarding wasn’t about me, it still affected me. It still made me smell funny and made it hard to do homework, or hard to eat any normal meals. When I was very young I just assumed everyone lived like we did because we were pretty isolated.” There was a break as y/n bit the inside of her lip as she decided how to continue. When she had her timeline as clear as her mind would allow, she continued her story: “When I got old enough to go to school I had a real wake-up call and I figured out that what I was living wasn’t ‘normal’ as I had believed. This meant that I got out more often, which I was glad about and I joined as many clubs and sports as possible to stay away from home. But I was like, eleven, so there weren’t a ton of options and we were poor, but I did what I could.

This was a blessing and a curse because I made some friends, but I never told anyone about what it was like at home. It was too embarrassing for me. My absence and meeting new people gave my mom time alone to buy more stuff without me around and it gave her a chance to meet some new people too. You know my soccer coach, or drama friends mom’s and dad’s.” Aaron nodded. y/n was slowing down, which he sensed meant that the story was going to get harder to tell from then. y/n swallowed and continued, “Mom started bringing guys around, drinking and stuff, but none of them would stay once they saw what her place was like, and I don’t blame them. Then one day one of your neighbors, that man that talked to me when you were at my mom’s house was over. I found them together more and more at home, so I thought they had a thing. I was surprised that he stuck around. Rumors fly in that type of environment. One day when the house was really really bad he told me I could spend some time with him at his place if I wanted somewhere clean to study.” Hotch’s brows pulled together. He’d heard these stories time and time again and the pit in his stomach balled into a knot.

“I thought he was being nice, at first. It was nice for a while, but he, you know, he made me pay him back for his kindness. Aaron pulled y/n into a tight hug and whispered, “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.” There was a tense pause before Hotch asked, “Did you ever tell your mom?” y/n tensed and he knew this was the point that was tormenting her. Not that any of what she had said before wasn’t incredibly inhuman and cruel, but there were strong feelings attached to what was coming next. y/n was silent as she nodded her head yes. She sobbed into his chest and rasped out, “I did tell her after it got bad. She… she didn’t believe me. She didn’t want to believe me, because that man was someone who was willing to live and sleep with her delusions. I was the price of that relationship.” Hotch nuzzled his nose into her shoulder and whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” over and over again like a lullaby. After y/n had soothed slightly, she said, “I never told anyone else, Aaron. I let it fester, and I was scared. But… what if he hurt other people after me? Other kids? I can’t live with that. This job, our job, I thought it would make my guilt feel better, but no matter how hard I try it doesn’t go away.”

Aaron pulled up a bit and wiped away y/n’s tear-stained face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and so sad. Hotch shook his head and said, “y/n, you were a child. So many people failed you. I imagine you were clinging to what you knew. The only thing you knew. No one can blame you for that, and if they do, that’s on them. I am so sorry that no one was there to protect you then. I’m here now, no one, no one will ever hurt you like that again, and if you want to talk more about this, I’m ready to hear you. If you want comfort, I’m here. If you want to speak to someone, a therapist, or a lawyer, I’m here. I’m here,” Hotch echoed again making sure she knew that she’d never be put in that place again. As long as he was alive, it would never happen again. y/n relaxed against him. She felt so much lighter having said everything. She knew Aaron, and she knew he was speaking the truth - he was there for her and he would be as long as she wanted him to be. Aaron, despite his flaws, was committed, and he didn’t give up on things. y/n rested her hand against his heart and felt it beating under her palm, steady like he was, and for the first time in over a decade, she had nothing to hide from someone she cared for.

Hotch was sure to be careful with this new information y/n had shared with him. He had an even keel and he kept his promises. He had even more respect for y/n than before, and he treated her the same with that new knowledge. He knew that if he made a big deal of y/n’s situation that was not what she wanted. Like all things with their relationship, they took time with each other, letting what needed to happen do so in due time. However, even though Hotch could treat y/n with the same love, the knowledge of the man’s actions who had harmed her so severely ate at him. Not only that, but that he had seen him. That the man who had tormented someone so young and innocent was still walking around free of repercussions started a small seed of darkness in his spirit.

Aaron normally didn’t let cases get to him, but whenever there were children involved he could only imagine Jack and now a young version of y/n in the same situation. Sometimes he dreamed of the man he’d seen in the trailer park. Dreamed of him dying in various ways. He knew it wasn’t good. He knew he couldn’t let him affect him this much, but there was no stopping the hatred that was growing in his heart. After a while, Hotch had researched the man and found out where he worked, and his criminal record. It was no shock that he had a long list of pretty crimes one of assault and battery. Aaron was always shocked by the freedom of information. It took him two days to find all of this out. He realized he was privileged as an agent, it was his job to find information about people, but even so, the surveillance state seemed to be getting worse every day and no one even noticed it. He pushed that thought aside as he glared at the address on the online yellow pages. He closed the private tab and sighed, making a not to delete all of these accounts once he got home and to call Jack and see how he was doing.

After a few months of dreams about the man and y/n that seemed to intensify in violence, Hotch knew that he couldn’t outrun this feeling of anger. It ran in his family, and he could normally control it, but this situation dealt with someone who was as close to himself as anyone had been, so forgiving and forgetting was not an option. Plus, the pervert who had hurt y/n didn’t deserve to be forgiven. He deserved what was coming to him. Aaron knew he couldn’t risk doing something like Elle had, even if that too was justified. He had far too many people relying on him, but he knew this anger wasn’t helping him, so with careful thought and research, he made a plan. Yes, couldn’t be a Batman-type vigilante doling out justice, but he sure as hell could instill fear into the hearts of weak, hurtful, and manipulative men, and that was what he was planning to do.

He waited until the team was on break and y/n was going to see a good childhood friend. He knew she’d be so wrapped up in spreading her warmth with those around her that she’d not fully notice if he wasn’t as responsive as usual. This plan was only going to take two days according to his carefully crafted agenda. With the team on leave, he’d also be safe from a case calling him away and the other BAU members wondered why he was near the edge of the state and not at his apartment which was a forty-minute drive to Quantico.

It was early when Aaron caught his 4:45 AM flight. He didn’t need to, he could drive to the trailer park easily, but he didn’t want to leave a clear trail behind his actions. He rested during the flight and knew that once his task was done, he’d be able to let this go and be fully present for y/n. To return the care she always gave him. He felt that he couldn’t love her unless he let this hatred go. The flight was short, less than an hour, and it landed in a small dinky airport on the edge of Virginia. He then rented a car from the airport and paid in cash. As the sun was fully lighting the sky, Hotch pulled up to the work site where the man he was after was sitting in an air-conditioned office, making sure workers didn’t get hurt on the job. When Aaron found out that that was what the man did, he could only cringe at the irony of someone like that keeping grown men safe but having such neglect for children.

Hotch turned off the car and sat for a moment, tapping his hand on the wheel for a second. He was wearing work clothes, some he’d picked up at Goodwill two days ago. As he stepped out of the truck, he fit right in with the other men coming on the job. It was bound to be a hot day from the sun and lack of clouds. Hotch didn’t look at anyone as he walked toward the portable set of offices on the construction site. He stepped up the wooden stairs and entered the door on the left side. The man he was looking for sat in an uncomfortable-looking swivel chair, drinking a bitter cup of coffee. The man looked up at Aaron and eyed him over. Clearly thinking he was looking for a job, the man said, “HR is the door over. You’re lucky, we fired some guys yesterday.” Hotch clenched his jaw and didn’t say anything. The silence intensified and the man uncomfortably cleared his throat and said, “Can I help you with something?” Hotch let out a breath and locked the door of the office from the inside, trapping the man in with him. The man fidgeted in his chair, not expecting this kind of reaction and not having a clue what to do.

Once Aaron was standing in front of the man’s desk he said, “There is something you can do for me. And you will do it, or you’ll regret the rest of your sorry life.” The man in the chair swallowed thickly and stuttered, “M-man what’s this about? Do I know you?” A tiny flash of understanding moved over his face but it went away as the fear returned. Given his response, the man clearly had more than one enemy, and perhaps this wasn’t the first time this kind of conversation had happened before. Aaron didn’t take the long road as he said, “If I so much as see you, or know that you’re around a child, ever, you’ll be in the ground before you can reach for your phone and try and call the cops.” A look of horror splashed the man like water and he took a bit too long to reply, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know any kids man.”

Aaron let out a breath and replied, “I don’t believe you. The way you’re biting the inside of your mouth right now tells me you’re lying. Also, the sex offender registry says otherwise. If you’re going to blatantly lie to me, at least be right.” Another minute of silence elapsed and Hotch continued, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me. So I’m going to say it once more. If I ever see your face near a kid, or in a paper, or near someone I care about I will end you, and you’ll regret every choice you ever make. If you think you can get away with doing something you’re wrong. Every time you pass a school, every time you sit in a pew, or at a restaurant you’d better be watching your back because I will be there somehow someway.”

Hotch slammed his hands on the cheap wooden table, shaking it and the trailer as the man flinched away. The man closed his eyes, expecting to be hit, but by the time he opened his eyes, the large man who had threatened his life was walking out the door.

Back in the car, Aaron pulled out, the man wouldn’t call the police, if he did, his criminal record who be brought up again, and questions would be asked. Questions the man couldn’t afford to answer. Hotch took his time driving back. He made a one-night stay at a hotel and saw a one-man play of Marx in Soho. He enjoyed the performance, but it was more of a cover-up than anything else. The team would ask him what he’d done while off and he’d have something to tell them for once. The next afternoon, he checked out of his hotel and drove back to the city. He arrived at the rental return lot in the evening, dropped off the car, and then got back into his own. As he entered the driver's seat, he felt the need to be with y/n. To have her presence relax him and to know that he’d done the right thing. He texted her to ask if she was back yet. As he started the car, he got a text from y/n saying, “Aaron, yeah I’m back. I got home this afternoon. I was just going to sleep early, I just got out of the shower. If you want to come a spend the night I’d love to have you here.” Hotch’s heart warmed at her response and he quickly texted back that he’d be over in a few minutes.

When Aaron got to y/n’s apartment he parked in a visitor spot and grabbed his keys. He let himself in with his spare and closed the door with a soft click, locking it behind him. There was only the small stove light and lamp on in the kitchen and front room. Hotch looked into the clean space and called out, “Honey, I’m here. Do you want me to turn off the lights?” The soft reply from the bedroom was a simple, “Yes, please.” Hotch smiled and switched off the lights and then moved down the wooden hallway and into y/n’s room.

y/n was just crawling into bed in her favorite night shirt when her bedroom door opened. She beamed at Aaron. Seeing him always made her feel safe, and even though she was tired, she was so happy for him to be here. “Are you staying tonight, or just stopping by to say hi?” Aaron looked around the room, feeling better being here already. Once he started slipping off his shoes and undoing the buttons on his shirt, y/n relaxed more into the bed now that she knew he was staying. When he was just in his briefs, Hotch dipped into bed and turned off the main light in the room. Under the covers he snuggled y/n from behind, breathing in her scent of moisturizer and shampoo. He stayed like that for a little while as they both got comfortable. y/n hummed her approval and whispered, “I’m sorry I’m not up for more tonight. Thanks for coming. How was your break?” Aaron kissed the nape of her neck and replied equally softly, “It was good. I saw a play you’d like yesterday. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” Aaron could feel y/n smile in front of him as she said, “Agent Aaron Hotchner, the man of culture. I can’t wait, love.”

y/n was as tired as she sounded as she fell asleep a few minutes later. Hotch brushed her hair lightly and held her a little more tightly as he relaxed for the first time since y/n had told him the extent of what had happened to her. He couldn’t save everyone, sometimes it was too late, but this once, this once he was going to be there for someone. He was going to keep being there. As he drifted off, he was able to sleep and not have any dreams at all.

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

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smol-and-scared · 9 months

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G/t Analysis: Gods Among Mice

Before I begin, I want to say two things:

This post is not meant to disparage anyone or question their value as people, all of this is exploration of linguistics, its cultural implications and potential narratives that could arise from them.

It is not a statement of fact or a claim I’m making.

Also… Let’s put aside the “Step on me Goddess” bullshit that has unfortunately plagued much of the g/t community’s DMs (It deserves to be called out, but not what this is about)

I will be using ‘God’ as a gender-neutral term here.

The God-like power of Size💪

Throughout history, Gods have often been depicted as being physically massive. This makes sense, as physical power is the most easily understood form of power. Likewise, a creature's size is one of the most universally recognized sign of one's physical power. So it's a good way to instantly depict the strength of a God. And these depictions have had a weird memetic side effect: The idea that 'massive size' makes a creature 'God-like'.

This does have a bit of psychological merit. If mountain-sized Giants actually existed, (without our arch-nemesis: 🔥the fucking square-cube law🔥) their full size and strength would be so hard for humans to understand that their power is basically arbitrary. At which point it becomes indistinguishable from Godhood. Also, our primitive lizard-brains evolved to fear much larger creatures. And fearing your gods is a major part of many religions.

Because of this there are dozens upon dozens of G/t fics, comics, etc; where the larger party is compared to or (metaphorically) referred to as, a God. In the case of actual giants and characters growing larger, this makes complete sense and is usually well-suited to the narrative.

But in my eternal quest for more angst™ I’ve recently started to question it’s use in Human/tiny stories. It feels kinda… lazy? I mean, not in the context of the story, many fantastic fics do it. But it just feels like it was copied over from the giant fics and never fully questioned or explored.

Okay, but what if: 🤏 smol.

Now obviously, all of this depends on the exact size difference, scenario and world-building of the story. But I still think it applies to a huge amount of fics who play up the Human/tiny size difference as ‘God-like’.

I personally think If a tiny views their resident human as a God-like figure (with all of the fear and awe that entails) …then they are optimistically delusional.

Because Gods are, in most cultures, special.

I have yet to see a fic where the Tiny is struck by the simple and harrowing realization that the humans they view as unstoppable, God-like entities are... in fact, painfully average.

It’s one thing to live in terror of the massive entity that could kill you in an instant. It’s an entirely further step to realize that there are dozens, if not hundreds of them between you and the nearest human-free environment.

And what if the Tiny realizes that their human isn’t even average? Imagine their horror when they realize that the person who is so big and powerful that they can barely even grasp it… is some 4’ 3” (~130cm) little stick? And the average human could snap ‘their human’ in half like a stale fuckin’ Cheeto.

Objectively, the Tiny knew this. They knew that the human they live with was small and weak compared to the others. But they never had an opportunity to actually understand it. And nothing gets that message across like seeing the 'God' of their tiny little world casually picked up and playfully carried on someone’s shoulder.

And It still gets worse...

Depending on the setting, the Tiny may not know or feel connected to any kind of civilization (A borrower colony, a scavenger camp, etc). This is especially true if Tinies are rare and/or oppressed.

And if that Tiny were to realize how average their 'God-like' human was? It would break them in the most pitiful way.

Because that ‘God’ isn’t a god. They’re average. They have a job. They have hobbies and friends. Things that this Tiny could never even dream of having. And that’s normal. That’s expected. They get to live, instead of just survive. Because they’re a person and that’s what people do.

And if their ‘God’ is just a person-

“Then…what does that make me?”

In conclusion:

I believe a character referring to someone as a God/Goddess implies that the speaker is a ‘person’ and they are looking at something greater. It’s ‘Normal’ looking up at ‘Godhood'.

But given the right story, plus a healthy amount of fear and awe. I think many Tinies would start to understand how small they are. And that they’ve been looking up at ‘Normal’ the whole time.

#g/t #g/t writing #g/t community #g/t angst #tinies #borrowers #giant/tiny #giant tiny #please read the warnings #If you feel like you're just surviving instead of living: You are not less of a person. I wish you the best #I was just examining how a character in that situation might feel

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kittyt-hexxed · 1 year

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A Place for You - Part One

Post Santa Barbara!Ellie x Ex-Firefly!POC!Reader

I’ve had this in the works since January. I wanted to post it when the first episode of the HBO series came out. But uh… it didn’t happen because this ended up waayy longer than planned. This photo was taken in TLOU2 Photomode by @kevinphotomode!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Warnings: Post-TLOU2, Apocalyptic Racism (young Reader), Racial Killing (young Reader’s parents), PTSD, Flashbacks, Trauma, Nightmares, Talks about Violent Murders, Past revenge Murder, Grief, Deadly Infection of Limbs, Prothetic Limbs, Dissociation, Heavy Depression, Low Self-Worth (Ellie), Reader lives on a Homestead, First Kiss (young Reader), Childhood crush, First time, Fingering

Summary: You weren’t expecting to see Ellie on your porch after six years - nor her passing out shortly after. You nurse her back to health from the verge of death, and the two of you bond through your shared traumas… and memories.

~ Late Fall of the Year 2039 ~

You hum as you begin cutting into the deer, carefully maneuvering your knife so you don’t puncture any organs. The soft thunk from the blood dropping into the bucket steadily gets louder the bigger you make the incision. A woof has you pausing and smiling at your dog who decides to sit at your heels. You reach down to pat Scout’s head before turning your attention back to the deer. You’d be able to quarter it and bag it once all the organs are out.

“We’ll be eating really well this fall, Scout. We got lucky with this one. It should last us until the spring.” You talk to him, “That means the next one should hold us over for spring, and you might get a new blanket.” An excited woof is your response, making you giggle. Soon, with practiced ease, the organs are removed and all the excess blood is in the bucket.

“Okay, Scout.” You pick up the bucket and he takes it from your hand, “Take this to the drop-off, and be careful.” Scout turns and heads off into the woods to your usual disposal site. The smell of the blood and guts attracted the infected so your family made a trap point to focus on them. You’d head out there once the meat was safely stored to torch any that wandered in.

By the time Scout returns with the clean bucket, you’ve removed the legs and head from the deer. The two of you finish up your routine with you removing the meat while Scout ran the inedible pieces to the drop. Now was time to make the trip back to the house, so you loaded up and headed back to your meadow. ‘I’ll have to check on the chickens and make sure there are no entries into their coup. I’ve got to keep them warm and the predators out.’ You remind yourself. ‘Then, it’s checking over the house and making sure nothing will get too cold.’ Suddenly, Scout starts barking, jolting you out of your thoughts as he takes off running toward the house.

“Scout!” You shout and run after him, pulling your shotgun from your bag. ‘Ah, hell! I hope it’s just a false alarm!’ The last time he reacted like this, some infected had managed to get inside from a busted area in the fence. A tree had collapsed during a storm, attracting the few in the forest, and you had to spend a few days fixing it. You grit your teeth, lifting your gun as you round the corner of the house. It’s been a while since you’ve had to use it on a human, but that didn’t mean you would hesitate with it.

The sound of Scout’s barks mixes with what sounds like… laughter? Your eyes widen when you see a woman standing on your porch, trying to calm down Scout as he jumps up and licks her face. You watch in shock, slowly lowering your gun as you listen to the laughter while trying to process the sight. The woman looks up at you, her face showing relief as a tired smile makes its way across her lips. It takes a moment, but you realize that you met this woman a few years ago when the two of you were much smaller.

“So um… I’m Ellie. Like Joel said.” Ellie reintroduces herself to you. You glance at your parents who are walking inside with Joel before you turn back to her with a grin.

“Hi, Ellie! I’m Y/n!” You greet her, lifting your clippers to show her, “Do you want to come up to my room with me? I have some books we can go through!”

“What kind of books?” Ellie raises an eyebrow.

“Ah, space-”

“Space?!” Ellie shouts and then her face goes red, “I-I mean- Space? That’s cool. I like space.” You gasp, grab her hand, and start dragging her to your room.

“Oh my god, that’s fucking amazing!” You squeal, “I actually have a telescope we can look through if you end up staying the night! Have you ever looked through one before? It’s so cool. My dad had found one for me last year…” You ramble to Ellie the whole way.

“Ellie?” You blurt out in shock, hurrying to put the safety back on your gun. You grin at her, suddenly feeling happy about the unexpected company. It’s been just you and Scout for way too long.

“Hey, Y/n.” Ellie says before her eyes roll back and she faints, falling onto your deck with a loud thud.

“ELLIE?!” You shriek, flinging your gun to the ground as you sprint to her. Scout freaks out as you hurriedly drop down and feel for her pulse. The firm beat only calms you down slightly before you open the front door and pick her up. You rush to the guest room, kicking the door open to place her on the bed. Mindlessly, you’re yanking at her clothes and taking off all the layers so you can inspect her for any bites. You pause as you’re removing her jacket, seeing her left hand bandaged and clearly missing parts of her fingers. You take a moment to unwind the bandages and a soft gasp leaves your lips. ‘It’s infected. I’ll check that after I confirm she’s not bitten.’ You shake your head and get back to work. You find no bite marks, only a tattoo on her arm along with dozens of scars all over her. You knew she’d be annoyed that you stripped her, but you didn’t have a choice. Finally, you press your hand to her forehead and hiss in aggravation. ‘She’s running a fever.’ You sigh, carefully picking up her injured hand. ‘It’s likely because of this infection.’ You examine the wound, noting that it must’ve reopened at some point as there are signs of old stitches.

Scout noisily comes into the room, making you glance at him and see him dragging a backpack that you assume to be Ellie’s. You put Ellie’s hand down and take it from him, patting him on the head before placing it on the desk. Your eyes linger on the numerous weapons sticking out of it, wondering when she learned to use a bow and arrow. ‘She had quite a few the last time she and Joel came by, but this is my first time seeing them up close.’ You sigh and look back to the woman passed out in your bed. ‘What happened to you?’ You frown.

“Alright, Scout. Why don’t we get back to work, huh boy? I have a feeling Ellie will be asleep for a while. Once I get the meat stored, I’ll work on helping her through this infection.” You look down at him. Scout whines, pawing at his face before pointing to Ellie. You give him a soft smile, reaching down to ruffle his fur. He liked Ellie when she came by last time, so it was nice to see him caring for her.

“You watch her for me, then. I’ll get this sorted out.” You motion to the meat, making him woof happily before he jumps onto the edge of the bed and lays down next to her.

It was two weeks before Ellie woke up. The first few days were the worst, keeping her from falling into a coma and injecting her with antibiotics. You wiped her body down with cold water from the river in an effort to break her fever. Once her fever broke, you were able to relax a little but she was still fighting off death. Her rest was fitful, causing Scout to come to fetch you more than a few times out of worry. You left him in charge of her since you couldn’t be at her side. She’d open her eyes and deliriously mumble things to you before falling asleep again. You alternated between tea, water, and soup, briefly waking her up to get her to drink them. Ellie was barely conscious, even when you fed her and it worried you. While you went around and prepared for the winter months, she stayed at the front of your mind the whole time.

You were in the middle of chopping firewood when Scout came sprinting out to you, barking like a madman, before sprinting back into the house. You followed after him, racking up your axe along the way and stumbling up the steps as you hurried to remove your boots. Your pulse is racing and you’re fearing the worst. She had been getting better, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t come back overnight. Ellie’s voice is horribly broken and raspy as you hear her talk to Scout, and you lean in the doorway as he rolls all over her.

“You’re awake.” You exhale in relief, seeing the energy in her movements as she looks up at you, “I was so worried when you collapsed.” You walk into the room, grab the glass of water on the dresser and take a seat at the edge of the bed. You help her take the first few swallows, gently wiping away a drop of water from her chin.

“...I’m sorry.” Ellie sighs, accepting the glass from you, “I didn’t know if I’d make it here if I’m honest.” She lifts the glass to her mouth and you watch for any shakiness. Her hand trembles slightly, so you keep your hand up to support her.

“You had a horrible infection in your fingers that traveled into your body. You went septic, Ellie.” You frown and cross your arms, “You’re lucky I know how to treat that. What happened?” That question makes her pause and she slowly lowers the glass with a heavy sigh. You turn to her, bringing your legs up to tuck them under you. She’s quiet for a moment, staring at the water as she chews at her lip.

“You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry for asking.” You place a hand on her leg, “It seems like it’s something heavy.”

“No. I- Fuck.” Ellie groans, running a hand through her hair, “Joel’s dead. Murdered.” She says suddenly, recoiling at her news. ‘Murdered?!’ You straighten up in alarm.

“I chased after his murderer, leaving the little family I had behind, and long story short… I couldn’t do it.” Ellie fiddles with her bandages, “Kill her, that is. I was so close to it, but in the end, I couldn’t do it. She uh… bit my fingers off in the fight.” She lifts her hand, flashing you an awkward smile at you before dropping her hand into her lap.

“Ellie. I-” You flounder for the right words, in complete disbelief, “-I’m so sorry.” You wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug that she stiffens up in. When you go to pull away, she relaxes into your arms and hugs you back. She tightens her grip on you and starts sobbing as she buries her face into your neck. You feel your heart break as her tears run down your neck, and you shift around so she’s sitting on your lap while she cries. You practically cradle Ellie in your lap, letting her cry as you try to comfort her. She tearfully rambles about everything that happened as she tried to get to your home, unloading on you in her distraught state and leaving you speechless. You were the only person Ellie could go to… Scout had jumped up and laid his head on her leg, letting her shakily play with his fur. By the end of it, she fell asleep. You take a deep breath, laying her down as you try to process what was said, and Scout wedges between you two with a whine.

“I know, bud.” You stroke his fur, wiping tears from your own eyes, “I didn’t expect that either, but it makes sense why she showed up in such a horrible condition.” You sigh and glance at the sleeping woman next to you. ‘She looks so peaceful after going through all of that.’ You delicately wipe the tear tracks from her face and go to get out of bed. Scout whines, gently grabbing your wrist in his mouth and making you pause.

“Scout…” You sigh and he whines again, tugging you back toward the bed. You glance at the door, thinking about all of the things you need to do, but Scout insists. ‘Winter won’t be here for a month. I can rest for a day. Besides, I’m ahead of schedule.’

“Okay, okay.” You laugh softly, getting back into the bed and laying down, “...Happy?” You raise an eyebrow at him. He woofs and licks your face, making you giggle and push his snout away. You lay there and pet him, accidentally falling asleep in the process.

You feel warm when you wake up. Warm, comfortable, and… stuck? You open your eyes, confusedly looking to your left, and come face to face with Ellie. You blink sleepily, your mind taking more than a few seconds to catch up to the situation. You let out a squeak, feeling your face heat up as her breath fans across your cheek. ‘I-I’m in Ellie’s arms.’ You shift ever so slightly and you’re well aware of the complicated position you’re in. Her arms are tight around your waist, one of yours is tucked under her head while the other is across her waist. Your legs were intertwined and the two of you were practically chest to chest. ‘How did we get into this position?’ You swallow, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. ‘There’s no way I can get out of this without waking her.’

Your heart drops when you notice that Ellie’s eyelids are fluttering. ‘No. No. No! Don’t wake up now!’ You panic and do the only thing that comes to mind… you shut your eyes. You feel her grip on your waist tighten, a sharp intake of breath following shortly after.

“Shit.” Ellie whispers, “How the fuck…?” There’s a pause before she’s shifting, trying to untangle herself from you. Except, that’s not possible without waking you up. She stops after a few seconds and lets out a deep sigh.

“…Y/n.” Ellie says quietly, “…Y/n, wake up.” She shakes you slightly with her free hand. You slowly open your eyes as she continues to shake you. The blush on your face is back the moment you meet her green eyes.

“Morning.” Ellie says sheepishly, her cheeks turning pink, “We’re um… a little tangled.”

“R-Right.” You stutter and the two of you work together to get yourselves separated. It takes a minute, your legs being the issue but you manage to get free.

“Sorry, Scout begged me to lay down after you fell asleep. I didn’t plan on falling asleep next to you.” You fidget with your flannel sleeve, glancing at the dog looking at you from his doggy bed. ‘You sneaky mutt. When did you bring your dog bed in here?!’

“It’s okay.” Ellie sighs, “Um, can I get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“Oh! Yes, of course! You can jump into the shower and I’ll leave a change of clothes on your bed for you. The towels are in the closet.” You perk up, immediately heading to the door, “You’re okay with eggs and bread for breakfast?”

“Eggs and bread?” Ellie blinks.

“We have a patch of…” You pause at the surprised look on her face, “Eggs and bread it is.” You flash her a smile and leave the room. The first thing you do is grab her a change of clothes and place the neatly folded pile on the bed. You can hear the water running and you frown, wondering just how long it took for her to get to you on foot. ‘She came all the way from California.’ You head out to the chicken coup and gather up the eggs, happy that you have enough for a big meal. You practically skip into the kitchen and get to work chopping up some vegetables.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Ellie says from behind you, making you pause. You turn to her and smile, seeing that she looks a lot better now that she was able to get cleaned up. ‘Wait.’ Your eyes flick down to your waist, seeing the black and white shirt on Ellie. ‘When did she get my flannel?’

“Can you get the bacon out and chop it up?” You point to the freezer, “It’s in a labeled ziplock bag.”

“You have bacon?” Ellie gasps, darting to the freezer and you turn back to your vegetables. ‘Did I accidentally leave it on the bed?’

“My mom was in the process of making improvements the first time you came by. Now I have pigs, chickens, a dairy cow, and a few goats. Bacon is for rare occasions, but I think you being here calls for it.” You place the vegetables into the hot frying pan and Ellie takes your place at the cutting board.

“I’m not that special.” Ellie chuckles, taking out some of the bacon and cutting it up, “I met you once when we were kids.” You can’t help but watch how skillfully she uses the knife, moving quickly and precisely. The pop of the oil in the pan snaps you out of your staring.

“You’re a friend I haven’t seen in years.” You roll your eyes, glancing at her, “Yes. Yes, you are that special.” You and Ellie briefly make eye contact and you smile as you look away. ‘Either way, she looks good with it on.’

“Why?” Ellie gives you a curious look.

“You were the first kid my age my parents let me play with. When any other Firefly kid came through I had to stay away from them. They never told me why… just said it was for my safety.” Ellie was more than the first kid you played with. She was your first crush and first kiss.

“So the few days Joel and I stayed…”

“Were the best days of my life.” You smile at her, making her eyes widen. You stare at each other for a bit before you clear your throat and go back to your tasks.

“Do you want me to toss them in like this?” Ellie lifts the cutting board. You glance at the chopped-up pieces and nod your head. She dumps them into the pan and it’s not long before the bacon is sizzling. You head for the eggs, cracking them onto a bowl before whisking them up. Without you having to ask, Ellie takes your place at the pan and keeps an eye on them. You idly wonder where she learned to cook eggs. Soon you’re plating the omelets and grabbing your bread box.

“So, you make bread?” Ellie leans against the counter next to you.

“I do.” You grin, pulling the fresh loaf from the box, “My grandma had her recipe books. Each one was for something different. Soups, breads, sweets. I spent a lot of time reading them and learning how to make the things in them.” You hear Ellie gasp as you take it out of the bag and place it down on the clean cutting board. It was baked yesterday morning before you headed out to gather wood.

“Holy shit!” Ellie exclaims, making you laugh. You grab your knife, cut a few decent-sized slices, and put them onto the plate. You hand Ellie her plate and the two of you walk to the table, Scout happily following you. You put your plate down across from her, quickly grabbing the hibiscus tea out of the fridge.

“Do you want some tea? I-”

“-I’d love some. Thank you.” Ellie interrupts you, making you smile. You pour out some for her, sit down once your glasses are full, and take a sip. Ellie does the same, her eyes widening as she licks a drop from her lips.

“That’s good.” Ellie looks at you, “Really good.”

“I’m glad you like it.” You giggle, “You can have some more if you finish that glass. My mom looted all of the closed stores when the pandemic first started. The town was empty so she took advantage.”

“I might take you up on that.” Ellie says before taking a bite out of her eggs. You blush when you hear her let out a low moan. Your eyes dart up, seeing her looking at you with an awed gaze.

“You… like it?” You let out a small, flustered giggle.

“This is the best thing I’ve eaten in months.” Ellie sighs blissfully.

“How long did it take for you to get here?” You ask in between bites, “You left that out yesterday.”

“Five months.” Ellie says, breaking her bread in two, “Tracking time gets tedious when you’re traveling, so it could be shorter or longer.” You give her a sad smile, watching for a few seconds as she digs into the meal. She came looking for you after that fight… and nearly died in the process. It saddened you to know that you were likely the only person she could rely on.

“When we’re done, I’ll check your stitches. I’ll need to keep a close eye on them to make sure they don’t get infected again and heal properly.” You state.

“Thank you, by the way.” Ellie sighs, moving a piece of her omelet around with her fork, “Thank you for caring for me these past few weeks. I… You were the first person I thought of and I desperately needed a safe place to go.”

“Ellie.” You reach across the table and touch her hand, making her look at you, “I told you six years ago… you’re welcome here. Once your hand is healed, if you choose to leave, you can. Until then, don’t worry about being here. I’ll take care of you. Just focus on getting better.” Ellie stares at you, seeming to be far away… a look you’ve grown accustomed to seeing.

“Thank- you.” Her voice cracks as tears spring into her eyes, “Thank you so much.” She whispers, ducking her head down to hide her tears. You let out a quiet sigh, feeling your heart clench in your chest. It seems like you two have more in common.

The longer you were around Ellie, it got easier to tell that she was struggling. You’d wake up in the middle of the night to her screaming, thrashing around in her bed in a panic. Sometimes she’d call out Joel’s name or names of people you didn’t know. You’d turn the light on, wait for her to wake up, and hold her in your arms as you helped her calm down. Occasionally you’d find her in the shower, skin red and steam filling the bathroom as she stared into space. You’d help her out, guide her into getting dressed and tuck her into bed.

Ellie zoning out was the most common. She would zone out, staring into space in the middle of a conversation or activity. You’d patiently wait for her to come back, gently repeating what you were saying and trying to continue the conversation. It didn’t bother you. You understood what she was going through, even though you didn’t know the full story. You struggled with witnessing your parents’ death, having to kill their murderers yourself, and getting used to living alone. The first few years were the worst, with one particularly bad flashback resulting in a burn on your arm. So, you didn’t push Ellie to do anything she couldn’t handle but that didn’t help her feelings about it.

You open your eyes and groan, a glance at the window showing you that it was early morning. Your body is begging for water, so you begrudgingly get up from your warm blankets. A shiver goes through you, reminding you that the first snowfall is a few days away. ‘I need to finish up the last preparations.’ You hug your jacket closer to your body as you exit your room.

“Fuck! Just- fuck!” You hear Ellie curse, making you stop outside of your door, “UGH! Just hold the damn thing!” You can hear the aggravation in her voice and before you realize it you’re knocking on her door.

“Els?” You ask softly, “Can I come in?” It’s silent and you listen closely for her reply.

“Yeah.” Ellie responds, with a heavy sigh sounding, “I think I need you.” You open the door and the smell of blood catches your attention. A gasp leaves your lips and you rush to her side, blood dripping down her arm from a large gash.

“How did this happen?!” You hurriedly grab another towel, pressing down hard on the wound.

“I was… practicing on using my hand again. My knife slipped and… I got myself.” Ellie frowns, looking away in shame. You inspect the wound and bite your lip, relieved she didn’t hit anything vital.

“You’re going to need stitches again.” You pull the First-Aid box closer, reaching in for the things you need.

“Great.” Ellie huffs.

“Hey.” You brush your hand over her cheek, “Relax. There’s no rush to do things. It’ll take some time to figure things out with your-”

“-I can’t relax!” Ellie shouts, startling you, “I can barely help you other than picking some things up! I can’t even grasp things the way I used to! How am I supposed to be of any help when I can’t even keep a knife stable?! I’m more of a burden to you than help!” She breaks down sobbing and you feel your heart shatter. You knew she wasn’t feeling great, but she never clued you in that she was feeling like a burden.

“Ellie.” You frown, “Please don’t say that about yourself. You’re not a burden. I can’t fully understand what you’re going through, but I can sympathize. You came to me for help and that’s what I’m doing. I don’t expect you to be able to do anything, much less assist me while you heal.” You motion to her fingers. The stitches had been removed a month ago, and the skin reformed nicely since then but it was still tender. It would be another month before she was fully healed.

“I know you’re feeling restless, but I need you to work with me.” You sterilize her wound, getting a hiss of pain from her, “Once you’re healed, we can work on it. If your fingers reopen, we’re back to square one and another few months of waiting. So please be patient.” You plead, focusing on stitching up her arm.

“I’m sorry. I’m not used to other people helping me. Even when Joel… I’ve been taking care of myself. Not being able to help. Not being able to even grasp my flashlight properly is…”

“Upsetting.” You nod, “I get that. I know what you’re feeling. I’ve… felt it before. I haven’t talked about my parents’ absence but the same thing happened with them.” You glance up at her, seeing her look at you in shock. You swallow and focus back on what you’re doing, wiping some blood away.

“We went into the town a few months after you left. My dad had hidden anything we didn’t have space for to keep it safe from raiders until he finished building the storage unit. So, we were going to collect the last of the stuff and bring it home. Some old friends of my dad’s had come to find him and things went to hell.” You could practically hear the gunfire in your ears, your mother telling you to hide, “Apparently, they had a vendetta against him for choosing my mom over them. They didn’t like my mom. Racists.” You scoff, feeling the anger once more.

“How… did they die?” Ellie asks hesitantly.

“One of them got the jump on my mom and I couldn’t get there in time. I watched as they shot my mom. Twenty bullets. One for every year my dad left them. They did the same to my dad.”

“Holy shit!” Ellie gasps, gripping your shoulder tightly in disbelief, “Those sick fucks!”

“I saw red. I couldn’t sleep at night knowing that they got away with it. With all of my training, I still couldn’t do shit to save them. I took my mom’s axe and used the Firefly network to hunt them down... I killed them all. I thought it would make me feel better but it…” You take a shuddering breath, “It made me feel empty. It’s been six years, but I still have nightmares. The screams, the pleading, the blood, the fire. I still remember it all.” You finish the last stitch, double-checking to make sure it’s secure. Her arm would be easier to manage than her fingers.

“Y/n. I-” Ellie was at a loss for words, “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask because you didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it. That must’ve been a horrible situation.”

“It was.” You sigh, standing up, “I thought that if I was faster or if I didn’t listen to my mom and hide… they could still be here. I’ve dealt with the guilt of being alive instead of them for a long time. So, I’m begging you, Els… Lean on me.” You put a hand on her shoulder, looking her dead in the eyes. Those other Firefly kids you trained with weren’t anything to you. Ellie was your first and only friend even though she was with you for three days. You were serious. Just as serious as you were six years ago when you told her she would always have a place with you. You cared for her a lot. After all, she made you feel like a normal kid for the few days they stayed with you.

“…I will.” Ellie says sincerely, resting her hand on yours, “I’ll lean on you.”

Winter flew by and you and Ellie made a lot of progress. To your surprise, she quickly got comfortable with you looking after her. The two of you ended up sleeping in the same bed so you could keep an eye on her wound. With a couple of major injuries healing, she had a higher risk of them getting infected and you wanted to avoid that. Scout had wanted to join in on the fun and dragged his dog bed into the room as well.

By mid-winter, Ellie’s fingers had completely healed and so did the gash in her arm. You worked with her every day on figuring out how to effectively hold items with her newly healed hand. It was challenging at first, especially with her trauma but you slowly got through it. It took a lot of gentle coaxing, tears on Ellie’s side of things, and persistence from both of you. She was able to firmly hold a knife within a few weeks and carry certain small objects without issue. But, you noticed that the cold seemed to bother her hand. She would mention that she was in a lot of pain if she left them exposed so you took it upon yourself to help with that.

“Ellie?!” You call out, nervously holding the wrapped gift close to your chest. You had been working on it secretly with some leather and hide you have. You are quite anxious about giving it to her, because you aren’t sure if she’ll like it. You glance down at Scout who's on your heels, knowing that you’re nervous.

“On the porch!” Ellie responds and you head toward the back of the house. You find her curled up on the couch, tucked under a blanket with your old astronomy book opened on her lap. Scout hops up and snuggles with her, making Ellie let out a cute giggle. A smile crosses your face, eyes darting to the soft snowfall before looking back over to her.

“What’s up?” Ellie asks, tilting her head curiously.

“I have something for you.” You hold out the gift. Ellie jolts up, surprised that you have something for her. She reaches out and takes it from you, placing it on top of your book.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Ellie laughs, unwrapping the item.

“I didn’t. I made it for you.” You shrug, a grin making its way onto your face.

“Y/n!” Ellie gasps, lifting the gloves out of the wrapping, “You made me gloves?!”

“I made you two sets.” You sit down next to her, picking up the soft one, “One for winter and one for working. This one is made with goat leather, and there are extensions inside of the fingers. It should fit snugly and bend as if you still have the rest of your fingers. This one is deer hide. It’s soft and will keep your hands warm. It should fit perfectly to your hand as it is now. You can wear these underneath the other ones if you need to.” You watch Ellie slip the gloves on, smiling to yourself as the deer hide one’s fits perfectly.

“These are really soft!” Ellie grins rubbing her hands together, “I can’t even feel any cold! Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet.” You chuckle, holding up the other gloves, “You have these to try on.” These are the ones you’re nervous about. It took you a while to figure out what material to make the fake fingers with.

“How do I put it on?” Ellie furrows her brow, inspecting the clasps, “It looks a little complicated.”

“Here, let me help you.” You gently take it from her, “There are two sleeves that go over your fingers to protect them and keep the pieces secure. They stretch like this… Then, you put your other fingers inside and clasp this around your wrist.” You tighten the clasp, explaining that there’s a quick release in emergency situations. She listens closely as you show it to her, eyes wide in wonder as she slowly flexes her fingers. You watch as her lips part, a gasp leaving them as she watches it bend with the rest of her hand.

“Do you… like it?” You nervously fidget with your fingers, “I can make any-!” To your shock, Ellie’s lips are on yours as she cuts you off mid-sentence. Your cheeks burn as she pulls away, her face turning red as she realizes what she did.

“I’m sorry I- um…” Ellie clears her throat, rubbing the back of her neck, “Yes. I love them.”

“That’s good. That-That’s great!” You stutter, hastily standing up, “I’m going to put some more wood on the fire.” You speed walk away and your fingers brush over your lips. ‘That was even better than my first kiss.’ You think flusteredly, feeling a tingle in your lips.

Spring arrives before you know it and it’s back to working around the farm. Ellie - sporting a spring/summer version of her glove that only covers her two fingers - insisted on helping you. You two had addressed the kiss and Ellie apologized for it. You shyly shared the fact that it was better than your first one, and it snowballed into a whole conversation about your life here. Ellie was genuinely upset that you had been all alone for the past six years. The two of you got much closer, cracking jokes and having fun as you fixed up the farm. You learned that Ellie already knew how to care for animals, and she finally told you about her life before her incident. It was hard for her to talk about at first, but she shared a new story every day. You were happy to learn more about her life, but it made you sad, too. It gave you more motivation to help her through the days.

Along with becoming more open, Ellie was definitely flirting with you. She’d make comments about your work that focused more on you than what you were doing. It made you very flustered since you’ve never been flirted with before. You didn’t mind it. You kind of liked it. You end up flirting back, surprising her one day but she happily went along with it. It wasn’t long before you were catching feelings for the auburn-haired woman.

Life on the homestead was so much brighter with Ellie around. Your routines changed to include her and you found yourself with more free time than you were used to. You excitedly used that free time to show Ellie around the area or take her into the city. The two of you had a chance to enjoy the world together. A run-in with some infected showed you how protective Ellie was. She pushed you behind her, using her body to protect you as she fought them off. When they were dead, she looked you over with such a concerned look in her eyes you thought you might faint. No one has been that concerned over your life in a while and it made your feelings for her deeper.

“How about we go down to the river?” Ellie asks, hands tucked into her hoodie pocket. You look up at her, contemplating her question.

“I’ll have to secure the chickens first.” You answer, standing up and dusting off your pants, “I don’t like them being out if I’m not around.”

“Awesome.” Ellie gives you a breathtaking smile, “I wanted to sunbathe on the rocks.”

“Sunbathe on the rocks?” You giggle.

“Yeah, I’ve got to work on my tan!”

“Your tan?” You start laughing, “You’ll get a tan working in the field with me. You don’t need to sunbathe for that.”

“What if I want to tan my whole body?” Ellie raises an eyebrow, a teasing smirk on her face, “You’ll let me harvest strawberries naked?”

“Na- ked?” You choke, your face heating up at her words.

“I mean there’s no one around for miles.” Ellie shrugs casually, “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to go skinny-dipping.”

“Have fun with that.” You clear your throat, turning around and hoping she doesn't realize you’re blushing.

“You could come with me, you know? Relax a bit.” Ellie circles around you to see your face, “It’ll be a fun experience for the both of us.” You bite your lip and look down at the ground. With Ellie around, you didn’t have to work as hard as you used to. And, although she hasn’t mentioned leaving, you were always on edge for the moment that she decided she was ready. It would be another memory to add, to fondly look back on when she did leave you behind.

“Okay.” You nod, “Let’s do it.”

“Really?!” Ellie grins, “You’re serious?”

“Why not?” You chuckle at her enthusiasm, “You’re right. It’ll be a fun experience for both of us and no one is around. It’ll be nice to let loose.”

“Awesome! Let’s go!” Ellie grabs your hand and starts running with you back to the house. You laugh at her antics as you hurry around to secure everything before you leave. You can’t help but admire how easily Ellie locks up the chickens and properly closes off the coupe. ‘It’s going to be heartbreaking when she leaves.’ You sigh but shake off the sad feelings. You wanted to enjoy your time with her.

After securing everything, you leave the house and head off into the forest. The area Ellie was talking about wasn’t too far from your place. It was a beautiful river that went up to your waist when you had to wade through it. You were nervous, extremely nervous the closer you got. You’ve never been naked in front of anyone and you agreed to skinny-dip with your crush of all people? You stop and marvel at the beauty of the area. Golden sunlight reflecting off of the water with leaves lazily drifting along and making the place look so… intimate.

“Ready?” Ellie glances at you.

“Ah…” You look at the water. ‘It’s only Ellie. It’s not like I’m showing off or anything.’ You nod, “Yeah, I am.” You turn away from her, slowly removing your clothes. You’re conscious of every piece you remove, goosebumps covering your body as you think of Ellie’s eyes on you. It makes your body feel tingly. ‘God, what am I thinking?’ You close your eyes, letting out a long exhale. ‘I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about my friend.’

“Y/n?” You jump, feeling fingers brush against your shoulder.

“Yeah?” You respond, whirling around only to get the breath knocked out of you, “You’re… beautiful.” You whisper, mindlessly. You can’t stop your eyes from wandering her body, entranced by her beauty. Ellie is lithe, toned, and everything you had embarrassingly imagined.

“I… can say the same about you.” Ellie whispers, her eyes roaming your body in return. You blush, crossing your arms over your stomach in a poor attempt to hide.

“L-Let’s go in.” You grab her hand and hurry into the water. You let out a squeal, startled by the cold water against your skin.

“Holy shit, this is cold!” Ellie curses, her grip on your hand tightening. You knew the river never warmed up but this makes you want to jump back out!

“It’s a nice change from the hot weather, though.” You comment, carrying on forward until you’re up to your shoulders. A memory crosses your mind, one of you and your parents playing around in the water. You turn to Ellie and give her a mischievous smile. You came out here to relax and have fun, so that’s what you were going to do.

“What?” Ellie raises an eyebrow. You immediately jump at her, getting a shout of surprise as you push her into the water. You’re submerged underneath with her for a moment before you’re coming up for air. The first thing you do is laugh as Ellie sputters and wipes the water from her eyes.

“Y/n!” Ellie exclaims, a laugh bubbling up as she looks at you with wide eyes, “Oh, it’s on!” She lunges at you, making you shriek as you’re knocked underwater. The two of you go back and forth, jumping on each other and playing in the water. You hadn’t felt this carefree in a while and her laughter made your stomach twist. Laughter that you were the one causing. There was something about Ellie that made you feel so bubbly. Even once you were sunbathing on a river boulder, you felt like you were floating and it was all because of her.

“I’ve never felt this relaxed before.” Ellie sighs, turning her head to look at you.

“Me either.” You mumble, resting your head on your arm as you look at her. The sunlight made her face practically glow. You could see her freckles, her eyes shone like the leaves on the trees, and even her hair seemed more reddish than normal. You were content laying here with her. ‘I could lay here forever.’

“Y/n?” Ellie whispers, propping herself up to get closer to you.

“Yes?” You hum, lifting your head. Your breath catches in your throat as you see a soft look in her eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Ellie says even quieter as if she’s afraid for you to hear her question. Your eyes widen as you process it, and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You didn’t expect her to ask that, but the more you played it over in your head… the more you wanted it. You wanted her to kiss you.

“You can.” You whisper back. Her fingers caress your jawline, gently guiding you up and toward her. The moment is filled with anticipation as your lips hover an inch away from hers. You were so close. So close to kissing the woman you were crushing on. You gaze into each other's eyes, hers flicking down to your lips before she finally kisses you. ‘Her lips are soft.’ You think, but become too entranced by them. The way they move against your lips. How it makes you feel… How Ellie makes you feel. Slowly, it gets more intense. Her kisses get needier, hands grabbing at your body beneath her and you reciprocate. She makes your body burn and you feel an odd ache between your legs. It’s almost saddening when she breaks the kiss, making your new issue more apparent.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so touchy.” Ellie apologizes but you shake your head.

“I like it. I’ve never had this kind of intimacy before.” You say breathily, shifting uncomfortably as the ache becomes more obvious.

“Are you okay?” She asks in concern, “Are you sure I didn’t make you uncomfortable?”

“I- um…” You feel yourself blush. ‘Do I bring this feeling up to her?’ The concern in her eyes only makes it worse, “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, but I feel um… t-this weird aching I’ve never felt before. B-Between my legs.” You look away from her, feeling embarrassed that you don’t know your own body’s responses. You hear her chuckle and she turns your face back to hers. You can see the understanding in her eyes.

“It’s okay. It means that you’re aroused and this is what you feel when you are.” Ellie gives you a soft smile, “I can ease that feeling for you, but that involves me touching you down there. But, I’d only do that if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Oh.” You blush harder. ‘How could I not know that? My mom gave me a whole course about sexual health! I just… lose myself around Ellie.’

“I’m okay with that.” You respond shyly, “You can touch me.”

“Are you sure? You did just have your first kiss. Well, real one.”

“I’m sure. I would like for you to do it.” You nod your head.

“Okay, but tell me to stop if you feel uncomfortable in any way.” Ellie agrees, waiting for you to nod before leaning down to kiss you again. You can feel her hand move down to your thigh, it resting there while you kiss. A nip on your lip has you parting your lips and her tongue slipping into your mouth. A low moan sounds from you and Ellie’s hand drags along your thigh before stopping at your clit. She breaks the kiss and starts kissing your neck, making you tilt your head back.

“I’m going to touch your clit, okay?” Ellie murmurs against your skin.

“Okay.” You breathe out, a bit distracted by the feeling of her sucking on your skin. You feel her fingers shift before - “Ellie!” You gasp, a groan leaving your lips as a twinge of pleasure goes up your spine. Little whines and whimpers come from you as she plays with your clit.

“You’re doing great.” She whispers encouragingly, “Just relax into the feeling… Good girl.” You try your best to listen to her. She talks you through it, guides you through how you’re feeling, and explains the pressure in your abdomen. It feels like forever before the pressure releases and you whine out her name as a heat races through your nerves. You’ve never felt this before. It felt amazing yet you think you might burn up on the inside. It only made the ache down there worse.

“That- That was…” You try to catch your breath, “That was amazing but I still feel that ache.”

“I know.” Ellie pecks your lips, “I wanted you to feel that before I went in you… Are you ready?”

You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, “…Yeah. I’m ready. You should totally kiss me again, though.” That makes her laugh and shake her head. This time you’re the one pulling her into a kiss. You’re nervous but excited as her hand finally moves to the place you need her to be. A shiver goes through your body as you feel her rub your slit. It felt weird. A good weird, yet you couldn’t help but wish she’d hurry up.

“I’m going to put my fingers in.” Ellie whispers, pausing your kiss.

“Do it.” You encourage her. She gazes into your eyes as you gasp, feeling her fingers enter you. You’re vividly aware of her fingers, the cool feeling of her skin is a welcome contrast to how hot you feel down there. There’s a pause, a moment for you to breathe and steady yourself before she continues. Every movement has you gasping for breath, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. Ellie’s nothing but sweet, once again guiding you through it because things felt different this time.

The pressure in your abdomen was slow to build up, compared to when she was playing with your clit. It was a deeper pleasure, lazily coiling through you but intense enough to have you moaning for Ellie. Her eyes on you are just as intense, making your heart clench in your chest. Her kisses are firm, purposeful, and dizzying at the same time. Even her words make you clench around her, to your surprise. It was a side of her you’ve only gotten glimpses of. A side of her you’re very interested in.

“Come on, beautiful.” Ellie coaxes you, kissing your collarbone, “Don’t run from the feeling. Allow yourself to feel it… Cum for me, it’s okay.”

“Ellie!” You moan loudly. You can feel yourself tighten around her fingers as the pressure releases and she lets out a low growl.

“Good girl.” Ellie kisses you, “Good girl.” Her words make you feel proud of yourself for listening to her. And you blush at her praise for you.

“Thank you.” You whisper, meeting her eyes, “Thank you for this.” You feel like you’re floating. Your heart was racing once again and there was an overwhelming feeling of love coursing through you.

“Shhh.” Ellie pulls you into her arms, “Just enjoy the feeling. Let’s enjoy this time together.”

“Does that mean you’re staying?” You ask hopefully, playing with the hair at the nape of her neck.

“I have no plans on leaving.” Ellie smiles and you feel overwhelmed with joy.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams #post tlou2 #please read the warnings

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