#agent o x reader

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[absurdthirst]

Unwillingly Bonded {Alpha!Agent Whiskey x Omega!F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7k

Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamics, heats, compulsion to breed, Alpha Whiskey asks permission, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, marking, mating/bonding, abandonment, oral sex (female receiving) knotting, angst, pregnancy, labor, child birth, Jack is a jerk, PTS, trauma, medical trauma, labor complications, hospitals, medically induced comas, second chances.

Comments: On a mission, Agent Whiskey comes across an omega in heat, you. Working you through your need, he bonds with you by marking you as his. Only Jack doesn't want another omega, even as much as it hurts you.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia. 

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Agent Whiskey MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Jack checks his watch, not hearing any warnings from Ginger so he knows it’s fine to go into the house. It’s your average suburban house, nothing special, but the hard drive that contains most of the world’s nuclear codes on it is in there and Jack needs to get it so it can be destroyed. He works quietly and to get inside and that’s when it hits him. “Fuck.” He growls, both in frustration and arousal. That smell. Something he hasn’t smelled in years. An omega in heat and not just any omega…his omega. Instinct overcomes him as all thoughts of the hard drive are pushed aside as he stalks through the house, cock hard and aching and he slams the door to the bedroom open. Finding you spread out, sweat glistening on your skin as your fingers work in and out of your needy, aching cunt. You’re in heat and you look glorious. 

“Alpha, please.” You beg, recognizing who Jack is to you and he can’t stop himself, driven by an ancient need, he surges forward onto the bed, shrugging off his jacket as his lips meet yours.

This stranger appeals to you, his scent an instant comfort and a temptation. Left to ride out your incredibly painful heat alone, you had been sentenced to being unfulfilled, until his mouth watering scent had wafted to you. An alpha, your alpha. The pheromones make your omega keen for him, even as your body spasms under your own touch. He would be better, soothe you better. “I need you, alpha.” You mewl as he strips down, the clank of his belt making you whine as the musky scent of his aroused cock fills your nostrils.

Once Jack is naked, he is kneeling between your thighs, fingers sliding through your folds after knocking your digits away. “Don’t worry, omega. I’ve got you. Gonna take care of you.” He promises and wraps his slicked up fingers around his cock, positioning it at your entrance before he starts to slowly push inside of you with a soft groan.

“Alpha!” You don’t even know the man’s name that is pushing inside you but he is feeling perfect as he stretches out your needy cunt.

He isn’t soft or gentle, setting a harsh pace immediately to give you what you need. Jaw clenched as all thoughts except the way you feel around him leave his mind. The urge to bite you is already gnawing inside of him, but he focuses on making you feel good, his hand grabbing your thigh to lift it higher on his hip so he can push deeper inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” You choke out when he manages to feel like he's grinding even deeper inside you than he had originally. Better than anything your fingers could have done, his cock hits deep inside of you and makes you whimper every time he pushes deep and kisses your womb.

Jack can’t speak, the only thing coming from his mouth is growls as he furiously fucks you into the mattressl. He needs you to cum so his fingers find your clit, rubbing harsh circles and making him hiss when you clench down around him. “Omega.” He growls in warning, wanting you to cum for him.

You whine, deep in the back of your throat as you wrap your leg around the back of his thighs. It’s everything you needed and you can’t help but thank the gods that he showed up. The fire in your belly is eased every time he thrusts into you. Arching your back, you present your scent gland to him as you start to cum. Crying out in pleasure as your body shakes under his and stars flash white in your eyes.

“Fuckkkk.” Jack hisses, thrusting into you like a jackhammer and he leans down, unable to stop himself as his teeth sink into your neck. Marking you as his for all to see, his omega, his mate. He can’t stop himself as he claims you as his and his knot swells, catching inside of you until he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed.

The wordless cry of pain and pleasure is loud, your body fusing with his as you feel his teeth sink into your gland. The turmoil and anxiety that comes with being an unbonded omega instantly quelling as your heart stops a beat and starts to synchronize to his. Mated together and bonded so that your happiness, your future, was intertwined with his.

Jack rides out his orgasm and he withdraws his teeth, licking over the mark he’s left on your skin. “I’m Jack.” He introduces himself and you smile sleepily, telling him your name. Jack shifts to lay on his back, still locked inside of you as he lets you lay on his chest, his eyes closing. He can feel your satisfaction and it sends him into a deep sleep, his arms wrapped around you to keep you safe in your slumber.

When you wake up, you notice immediately that he is no longer inside you. Disoriented, you sit up and look around blearily, finding him getting dressed again. “Alpha?” You croak, frowning. “Where are you going?” You shuffle to the end of the bed and start to get up so you can dress as well. Your heat is still in swing, but if you need to leave, you can control yourself until you get where he wants you to be.

“I gotta go, sweetheart. Gotta head back to my work. I got a report to type up and shit to do. It was a pleasure makin’ your acquaintance, but this cowboy has places to be.” He says, putting his hat on his head.

“You aren’t leaving me.” You shake your head and hurry to put your clothes on. “You marked me, mated me.” You remind him, his teeth marks are embedded in your scent gland for everyone to see. “I’ll be ready in just a minute. I’ll pack my things.”

Jack huffs and shakes his head, pissed that he marked you. His body is aching for you even now and he can feel your anger at him as you shuffle to get ready and grab a bag. “I didn’t - I don’t want a mate.” He murmurs to himself, deciding to search around for the hard drive he came in here to find. “What?” You ask, turning towards him and he shakes his head, “nothin’. Just get your shit.”

You hurry up and finish packing, shoving your things into a bag. You hated being here and had hoped to be able to leave, finding that opportunity with the alpha who had marked you. “It’s in the safe behind the dresser.” You tell him. “The hard drive you’re here for.” 

“What? What do you know about that?” He demands, looking up and frowning. 

You shrug. “They wanted to keep whatever was in that hard drive safe. Figuring an omega in heat would distract whoever was looking for it.”

He’s shocked but can’t deny the idea is ingenious. He nods and walks over to the dresser, “you know the code, omega?” He asks, his voice a little demanding and you nod, giving him the code. 

“It’s my birthday.” You confess, “my brother…he’s the one you’re looking for. He - he wants infamy and I- I wish he would stop being the bad guy. He kidnapped me, brought me here two days ago.” You confess and Jack nods, working on pushing the dresser aside so he can open the safe, taking out the hard drive.

You bite your lip and watch Jack, the cowboy alpha who has claimed you. He’s handsome. His thick mustache is perfectly groomed and his Stetson fits the jeans, button up and sports jacket. Right down to the double six shooters he wears and the cowboy boots on his feet. He’s got to be some kind of police, not sure who, but he’s here because your brother is a bad man. You don’t have any love for him, he had been willing to let any alpha abuse you to keep his secrets.

He takes out one of his weapons, not trusting you just yet despite being bonded to you. He is waiting for an ambush now that he has the hard drive and he grabs your hand, pulling you along through the house. He’s cautious of any traps, people that are gonna jump out at him but he guesses that would’ve happened while he had his cock inside of you. “Come, omega.” He says, guiding you out of the house and to the car he has waiting to take him to the airfield.

You are relieved that you are leaving, clinging to him as he speaks to someone through an invisible speaker somewhere on him. “Alpha.” You hear a helicopter approaching and your eyes widen when you see it burst on the horizon. “Is that for us?”

“Yes it is, darlin’. You afraid of flyin’?” He asks you and you shake your head. “Good.” He nods and he guides you over to the car, helping you in. It’s a short drive across the small town to the airfield and he helps you out after he exits the car. The wind from the helicopter is strong and he keeps you close as he guides you to the bird, wanting you to be safe and away from this damn town.

You watch the houses grow smaller and turn towards your alpha, cuddling into his side. You feel comforted by his presence, his scent. Your nose pressed against his scent gland and you sigh, enjoying the waft of satisfaction you are getting from him. Wondering if it’s from his happiness on the mission he was on or from you, you can only guess.

Jack feels you relax against him and he allows himself to comfort you but he takes his phone out to message Ginger to prepare his home for you. The helicopter ride doesn’t take long and soon he’s landing at the airfield for Statesman and he has the car waiting. He helps you off of the helicopter and to the awaiting car. “Come, omega. Let’s go home.” He says and helps you into the car, putting your bag in the trunk before he gets in and starts the engine.

His seed is still inside you and the idea of a home, a real home with your alpha, makes your omega preen. You eagerly look out the window, wondering what kind of home he has and the prospect of building a real nest for your heats appeals. Your family hasn’t been the best and you are glad that he marked you. “Where is our home?” You ask curiously.

“I have a farmhouse. My ma and pa had it built before I was born and it’s been mine ever since my ma passed away.” He reveals, having lived in the home on and off for the past ten years. It’s his childhood home and he hopes you’re happy there. The drive isn’t long and he’s soon pulling up outside the ranch house, “home sweet home.”

It’s a beautiful little thing, although it has an air of being abandoned. As if your alpha hadn’t spent much time here. That doesn’t matter, you will make it a soft landing for him, a haven from the cruel world. “Alpha, it’s beautiful.” You tell him breathlessly, charmed by the place. “Do we- would you mind if I changed things? Made it comfortable for you?”

Jack won’t argue with you, he will let you do what you want. “I want it to be comfortable for you.” Jack says and he opens the door for you after parking his bronco and he helps you inside with your bag. “I want you to make this your home.” He says after he turns on the lights and you frown, turning to look at him. 

“You mean our home?” You ask and he shakes his head, “I will be going to my apartment in the city. This is your home.””

“Alpha.” You look around in confusion. “You…you bonded with me. My place is where you are.” You know that it is possible to spend time apart, but any longer than a day is incredibly painful for a bonded alpha and omega. “Let me come with you to your apartment. I will make sure you are happy.”

“I - I can’t.” Jack shakes his head, shifting to sit down on the sofa and he takes his hat off to set it down on the coffee table. “I can’t stay with you, omega.” He says and you sit down next to him, “why not?” Your lower lip trembles and he feels your hurt.

“I- I was mated. I was twenty and she was my high school sweetheart. We were so in love and so young. We were bonded and we got married, she got pregnant. Then one night she went to a gas station and went inside to get a chocolate bar, one of her cravings, and she was shot by two drug addicts who wanted money and she got caught in the fray, she was killed when she was seven months pregnant. I- I can’t lose another omega. I never wanted to be mated again but then you- it was like I couldn’t control myself. I can’t be with you. I cannot go through that again.”

Your heart breaks, hating that he is unwilling to fulfill his duty to you. He had bonded with you and had no intention of keeping you with him. Curling away from him, you wrap your arms around yourself and cry, his rejection of you piercing through you like a knife. “Please.” You beg, closing your eyes to try to keep from reaching for him, or seeing the disgust in his eyes. “You are my alpha.”

He can feel your anger and sadness but it doesn’t sway him. The memory of his highschool sweetheart laying on the slab with her baby bump and his unborn son flashes in his mind and he won’t go through that again. He shakes his head again, “I’m sorry. I can’t stay with you. You’ll be safe here. I- I’ll come back to help you with your heats.”

You turn your back to him, unwilling to let him see you hurting even though he can smell it on you. “Don’t bother, alpha.” You manage to grit out. “I am sure that there are other places you would rather be.”

Jack doesn’t push, knowing you are going to hate him but hating him is better than you being dead. “Okay. If you need anything, I- you can call me on this phone.” He hands you the phone he has in his pocket. He can get another one from Ginger but the line is secure so you won’t be jeopardized by his enemies listening in. You choke on a sob and he doesn’t say anything, just stands up and makes his way to the door. “I’m sorry, omega. I didn’t - I never expected to be in this position. I didn’t even know you could - I barely survived losing my last mate. I cannot do it again. I’ll speak to you soon.” He half promises and steps out of the door and makes his way to his bronco.

Your heart shatters, every step he takes away from you burning you like a flame being held to your scent gland. Knowing that he has no intention of being with you makes you collapse onto the floor, sobbing. Distress pours off of you in waves and you wonder why he had marked you if he had no intention of keeping you. It would have been better to just fuck you and leave you there because now your happiness and your health is tied to a man who has no need for you.

Jack can feel your devastation through your bond but he tries to ignore it, the way his body is pushing him to go back and comfort you. He nearly died after he lost his last mate, he can’t go through that again. That was worse than what he’s feeling now. He swallows harshly, gripping the steering wheel as he makes his way to the compound to his apartment there so he can get away from you. This is for the best, it has to be.

You don’t know how long you lay on the floor of the house where Jack had abandoned you. Unable to do anything but mourn the rejection of your alpha, you don’t sleep or drink or eat as you wallow in the pain and misery. Unable to do anything but deal with the pain of his emotional and physical distance, you wonder if it would be better to just break the bond with him. 

**** 

It’s been weeks since Jack left you crying on his living room floor. The ache has become his constant companion but he ignores it, immersing himself in missions and trying to forget about his mate. He arrives back at the compound, exhausted from his last mission to Thailand when Ginger rushes up to him. “What’s wrong?” He asks, a frown on his face when Ginger shakes her head. 

“She needs you Jack. She’s in heat. She - she wants to - she doesn’t want to live anymore…she told me she can’t handle it.” Jack inhales sharply and shakes his head, running towards the parking garage. 

He speeds down the road, rain battering his windshield and lightning flashes in the clouds above. He’s desperate to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. He’s speeding when his engine starts to sputter. “No. No. Don’t fuckin’ - you fuckin’ piece of shit.” He growls, slamming his hand on the steering wheel. He can’t waste another second so he gets out, running down the dusty drive to his ranch and he is soaked to the bone as he yells your name, “omega! Omega!” He shouts, stumbling onto the porch.

Inside the house, buried in your nest, you writhe in pain. Whimpering and crying as you imagine Jack’s voice, your Alpha’s voice ringing in your head. Calling for you. The faint remnants of his scent around the house are all you have left and you had gathered everything you could to make it feel like he was around you, but it was no use. The pain is much more intense now during your heat than when you had been unbonded, you don’t know if you can stand this. You had told him not to bother coming back, but your fingers shake as you reach for the prescription that the doctor had given you. Needing the sweet relief that it would bring and maybe peace. 

Jack runs through the house, drenched through and he’s stripping his jacket and shirt off, and he is hard already, his body aching for you when he smells the desperation coming off of you. “Omega. Omega. I'm sorry. Let me help you. Let me help you.” He pleads, his instincts driving him to help you and he’s desperate to help you. “Please. Tell me I can help you, omega.”

“Alpha!” You drop the bottle, surprised that he is here and you can’t help but think that he’s changed his mind, that that pain of being apart was too great for him like it had been for you. “Please alpha, I need you.” You beg, desperate for his touch and the soothing scent of his pheromones surrounding you. “Jack, please.”

He can’t deny you, even if he tries. He has to satisfy you. It’s in his DNA. He shoves his jeans down, kicking off his boots and he reaches for your thighs, pushing them apart so he can surge forward to bury his tongue in your cunt, his nose pressed against your clit.

“Ohhhh Alpha!” you scream in pleasure, the overwhelming flood of endorphins taking over and quenching the fire that has been crawling under your skin since Jack had left. He is a vital part of your physical and emotional health. Your fingers tear into his hair, curling around the strands and tugging as you roll your hips down into his face, grinding down on him. Desperate for more. “Please alpha, oh god, thank you, thank you for coming.” 

His hands grab your thighs, pushing them back so he can push his tongue deeper inside of you. “Fuck baby. Taste so good.” He groans, pulling back for a moment until he’s surging forward again to wrap his lips around your clit to suck hard, wanting you to cum like this first.

You moan and writhe in your nest, feeling your body respond to his touch to the waves of determined pheromones that are pouring off of him. The pride that he feels every time your walls gush around his tongue and your orgasm slams through you without warning with the next suck of his mouth. Screaming his name, your body shakes and jerks from the force of your pleasure, your omega preening under the attention from her alpha after so long without him. 

The way you cum has his cock leaking with need for you, aching to put his knot inside of you. He groans your name and kisses up your body, taking your nipple into his mouth while he reaches down to grip his cock with his hand. Pumping himself a couple of times before he positions himself at your entrance, “omega.” He murmurs, kissing your scent gland as he pushes inside of you.

You groan, your limbs winding around him and you practically purr at the stretch of him. Thick and heavy inside you, he scratches an itch that you couldn’t manage yourself with any toy or your fingers. Your alpha, deep inside you, was exactly what you needed. “Alpha, please.” You beg prettily. “I need you to knot me. Pump me full of your cum.”

He can’t deny you any longer. Starting to move inside of you, he hisses your name and moves slow but deep, wanting to give you the relief he knows you need. His mind is clouded with your scent and the way your cunt feels wrapped around his cock. “Fuck, omega. Missed this.” He confesses, admitting to you and himself that he had thought about you during his self imposed solitude.

You can’t even chide him right now, not when he is giving you what you’ve wanted. What you need. It just means that he’s realized he was wrong and he will stay with you now. Or bring you with him. While the house and the grounds are lonely, you need to be with your alpha. “So good. I needed you. My alpha, fuck Jack, you feel so good.”

Jack groans when you moan his title and his name, your walls flutter around him and he moves a little faster inside of you, giving you what you need. “Fuck baby girl, oh my omega. So good. Feel so good.” He grunts into your jaw as his hips move inside of you. He’s missed this feeling and he knows he shouldn’t have stayed away from you.

The steady push of his cock inside you makes you keen, rocking your hips up to meet his thrusts. “It’s so good, alpha. Missed you. Needed you so badly. My nest needs to smell like you.”

He hums, “gonna make sure you’re satisfied. Gonna make cum over and over, sugar.” He promises as he moves within you, his hand gripping your thigh to push it further back against your stomach, wanting to be even deeper inside of you. “Need you to cum again, baby girl.” He murmurs, pressing his nose against your scent gland.

You whine, loving the attention and the promise of satisfaction. You need it. Your omega content as he fucks you steadily. Your fingers dig into his back, holding him close and you close your eyes to let him just take care of you. Despite him leaving, you trust him to care for you. “Want to be good for you, alpha.” You moan softly.

He groans, loving how you submit to him despite him abandoning you. His fingers slide between your bodies so he can rub your clit, desperate to make you cum and be satisfied after hearing of your despair from Ginger. He’s acting on animal instinct, wanting to feel you cum and moan his name, his title. “Cum for me, omega.” He orders, his voice rough.

You are completely helpless to do anything but cum for him. Shuddering when the first bolts of pleasure rock through you, your cunt clenches down on him like a vice, legs wrapped around him as you soak him in a torrent of your juices.

Jack feels like he’s complete when you cum around him. He knows he should be here for you but the memories of his late wife and unborn child stop him from opening up to you. He grits his teeth, pushing deep. It’s been too long since he came so he’s moving faster until he’s groaning out “omega” and painting your walls with his hot seed.

You whimper in pleasure, the heat of his cum flooding your womb and making you moan his name quietly. Your body starts to relax for the first time in months, the pain that has been so prevalent subsiding. “I’m so glad you’ve changed your mind, alpha.” You murmur quietly, caressing his back as he rides out his high.

Jack’s knot is caught inside of you as he works himself through his orgasm and he exhales shakily, closing his eyes. He knows he should’ve been here for you and he doesn’t want you to do anything stupid because he was selfish and decided to not be what you need. Your life depends on him being what you need and it kills him on a cellular level to feel your agony. “I’m sorry, ‘mega.” He murmurs, shifting to his side so he can curl around you.

You are exhausted, the pain has been draining and you snuggle back into his arms. “‘S okay.” You mumble sleepily, eyes starting to flutter closed. “Love you.” Even though you don’t know him, your very nature makes you love him, he’s your mate. The other half of your being and you feel complete now that his scent is surrounding you and comforting you.

****

“Fuck. Feel so good, omega. So fuckin’ tight, sugar.” Jack hisses as he rocks into you, moaning at the way you grip his cock inside of you, his hips hitting your ass as he fucks you from behind. It’s been two days since you left your nest for anything other than food and to shower quickly. Even then, Jack made sure his soapy hand was between your thighs to keep you satisfied. Sweat beads on his brow as he fucks you, his fingers digging into your hips.

You moan, bowing your back as he hits that wonderful little spot deep inside you and makes your thighs shake. The past two days have been pure bliss, falling asleep with his knot inside you and waking up to his tongue on your clit. The perfect alpha in every sense, he has made this heat the best you have ever experienced and the down times between sex have been filled with conversation. You’ve learned what he does, he’s an agent for a place called Statesman, intelligence work. Which you had kind of figured out after your meeting. “Jack, baby, alpha, I’m gonna cum.” You’ve learned he loves knowing he’s taking care of you, and you call him ‘alpha’.

“That’s it, darlin’. Cum for ole Jack. Cum for your alpha.” He orders, pushing deep inside of you and his hand slides down your stomach to press against your clit, wanting to hear your sweet cries as you clamp down on his cock and soak him. “Cum. For. Me.” He says through gritted teeth as he pushes deep inside of you.

You cry out loudly, collapsing down face-first into your nest and moaning as he continues to rock into you. Pushing you through your pleasure with every thrust of his hips. You feel the knot start to swell and your eyes close blissfully. “Fill me, alpha.” You beg, pushing your hips back. “I want your knot, please alpha, only you can make it feel so good.”

He grits his teeth, unable to deny you anything as he pushes deep, his knot catching and he groans your name as he cums, his seed spilling inside of you as he leans down to press his nose to your scent gland. You smell like him, covered in his scent and that makes him vibrate with pleasure and satisfaction.

You hum, smiling against the sheets in your nest as you feel him throb inside you. Jack shuffles, guiding you to lay down with his knot embedded inside you and keeping you plugged full of his cum. “I think that was the last push.” You tell him breathlessly, closing your eyes and relaxing into his arms.

Jack feels you fall asleep against his chest and he caresses your arm and down to your side, wishing he could stay like this forever but his traitorous heart lurches when his mind flashes with the image of his dead omega full of his unborn son. It makes him clench his eyes shut like he’s trying to get rid of the image. He sighs and shakes his head, curling around you. He will be gone by the time you wake up, the note on the nightstand telling you to call him next time you’re in heat.

****

“Do not tell him that I am in heat.” You hiss through the phone to Ginger, the pain blooming through your system although you try to block it. “I just need suppressants,” you tell her. “This heat is different. I’m sick and throwing up. I’m tired all the time and the pain just seems to linger.” You had vowed to never let Jack Daniels in your nest again after waking to find your alpha had abandoned you for a second time. You had cried and raged before deciding that you were done letting him control you. “It will help with the pain.”

“I- I don’t think you need a - I think you need a doctor.” Ginger says, summoning the facility doctor to go to Jack’s house to meet you and check you out. You don’t argue and Ginger doesn’t alert Jack, knowing you’d be mad about it. “The doctor is gonna be there in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Ginger.” You tuck your phone into your shoulder and start tearing apart your nest to rebuild it for the third time. You’ve been unhappy with it and have done this at least twice a day for the past week. Unsure of why you feel so particular when you’ve never really noticed it before. “Please don’t tell Jack, I’m obviously not his concern.”

Jack’s phone dings and he wonders what the calendar event is when today is nothing special until he sees it’s the scheduled first day of your heat. He knows you must be in pain by now, he can feel the never ending tinge of pain in his body with every step he takes away from you and he decides to go see you, to perform his duty. The dust kicked up from his bronco, he enters the house with a call of your position, wanting to hear you moan for him.

You stare at the results the doctor had printed out for you. You hear Jack call your designation and you shove the paper out of sight and leap up to slam the bedroom door and lock it. Despite the pain, you don’t want him near you. Not right now. Not when your heat wasn’t really a heat. “What are you doing here, Jack?” You call out through the door, trying to ignore the way your omega leaps in happiness at his presence.

Jack tries to open the bedroom door and finds it locked. “Sugar, why are you lockin’ me out?” He asks, frowning and confused as he tries the door again. “Why won’t you let me help you?” He asks, his voice taking on that alpha quality that has you shivering as you struggle to not respond.

“So you can leave me again?” You close your eyes, trying to resist the urge to open the door and slide into his arms. “I would rather work through my heat by myself.” You lie.

“I- you can’t deny what you need. I don’t want you to be hurtin’.” He murmurs and you scoff, “right. That’s why you keep leaving me.” Jack sighs, resting his forehead on the door after taking off his hat, “you know why.”

“I know that you bonded with me and have left me in pain nearly every day since then.” You reply. “Just go Jack. I’m not requiring your services. Go back to your apartment and pretend I don’t exist.”

“I - I want to help.” He tries to sound convincing, knowing that you hate him. You must hate him and he doesn’t blame you. He never should’ve claimed you. He deserves your hatred. “Just go.” You choke and he sighs, knocking his fist on the doorframe. “You know where to find me when it gets too much.” He says, placing his hat back on his head and he heads out of the house, back to his solitude.

You hate when he leaves but you know it’s for the best. He can’t discover that you are pregnant, that would really make him run for the hills. You are doing what is best for you and for him, even though it hurts.

****

The agony is something that Jack is used to now. The constant ache as he flies away on yet another mission. His heart burning for you but he stays away, unwilling to go through the grief from

the loss of another omega. He sighs and rubs his jaw as he comes in to land in Kentucky, the thought of wondering what you’re doing comes to him again. When he lands, he finds Ginger waiting for him and that makes him frown. “What’s happened?” He asks and she sighs.

“Jack. She - she’s in labor.” She announces and Jack shakes his head. 

“Labor? But she- she isn’t pregnant.” He chokes and Ginger nods, “she is. You haven’t spoken to her for months. She’s in labor, Jack. Don’t miss this opportunity to make things right.” Ginger says, having been your friend during your pregnancy, helping you and letting you vent when the anger towards Jack got to be too much for you.

You close your eyes, breathing heavily through another contraction and you let out a moan of pain. The doctor that had told you that you were pregnant is on the way, willing to deliver the baby at your home. You’ve decorated it to your tastes and prepared for your baby as best you can. Ginger had delivered a credit card that Jack had set up for you, so you didn’t have to worry about paying for anything, although the pain of not having your alpha with you still persisted. You were dealing with it and you supposed you should thank Jack. Because of that, you were dealing with labor a lot better than you could have been.

Jack is speeding down the driveway, barely stopping his bronco before he’s jumping out and making his way inside to find you screaming in pain, the midwife by your side. “Omega. Why didn’t you tell me?” He demands, setting his hat down and shrugging off his jacket. He’s terrified but there’s nothing he can do now, he needs to be here for you.

“Ginger.” You hiss, panting after the contraction has passed. “You-“ you shake your head, “you didn’t want me, so you wouldn’t want the baby either.” You reason, even though Ginger had assured you many times that Jack would have stepped up to take care of you and the baby if he had known you were pregnant.

Jack should want the earth to swallow him whole and he does when his eyes drift down to your belly. So round and full of his child, one he didn’t even know you were having. “I- I wish you had told me. I would’ve been here.” He’s half telling the truth. Not sure if he would’ve been here but he likes to think even he can work past it to be there for you.

You snort and would have replied but another pain rips through you, making you grip the bedding of your nest tightly and scream again. Sweat pours down your cheeks and you feel like the baby is trying to come too fast, but you know that you are progressing nicely.

Jack steps closer, reaching for your hand. “Omega. Let me help you”. He says, knowing he can comfort you like no one else can. He wants to. He wants to make you feel safe and protected while you go through this pain. “Did Ging not give you any pain meds?” He asks, knowing Ginger has stuff in her supplies.

“She- it’s not time yet.” You pant, leaning back and closing your eyes and trying to rest between the contractions. His fingers squeeze yours and you should pull away, but it does comfort you. Your eyes open and you look into the handsome face of your alpha. “You don’t have to stay.” You tell him. “I’ve decided to do this alone.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He growls at you, not allowing an argument. He may be many things but Jack won’t walk away from you in a time of need like this. He brings your hand up to kiss the back of it and murmurs your name. “You can do this, baby girl. I know you can. Focus. Breathe. You’re so fuckin’ strong. Can survive without your alpha. You can do this.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

You can survive without your alpha. It’s been a bitch to learn, but you’ve done it. Closing your eyes, you try to not let your omega take control, to preen under his touch and praise. You know it’s only temporary. Once the baby is born safely, Jack will disappear again. He doesn’t want you as his mate. You are nothing but a burden to him. The idea of breaking the bond once again flutters through your mind until the next contraction hits.

He holds your hand as you grit your teeth while the midwife comes over to check you. “You’re ready to go mama. You ready to start pushing?” She asks and you shake your head, “fuck, this hurts.” You choke, feeling another contraction coming. 

“You can do this, baby. Just breathe. You can do this.” Jack promises, knowing he has to be strong for you at this moment.

You close your eyes so you don’t have to see him, but the calming pheromones he’s pumping out and the strong grip of his hand helps you. Biting your lip, you quickly change it to clenching your teeth together to suppress the scream as you start to push.

Jack lets you squeeze the shit out of his hand and he watches as you push, sweat beading on your brow but you are being so strong. Time seems to stand still as you push until Jack hears the cries of the baby and his heart lurches. “Congratulations, it’s a girl. Would daddy like to cut the cord?” The midwife asks and Jack nods, dumbstruck as he walks over after letting go of your hand to cut the cord. 

The midwife hands him his daughter and she is squawking, annoyed at being pushed into the world, and Jack smiles, “hey darlin’ girl.” He murmurs, carrying her over to her mama.

Your heart stutters when you see your alpha with your daughter, softening your resolve and your omega purrs happily. Your tears are both from relief and angst that you know he will walk away again. Not only hurting you, but her as well. The midwife continues to work on you as you take her from Jack and cradle her in your arms. “You are gorgeous.” You coo to her smooshed little face, softly stroking her fluid covered cheek. “Look at you, Princess, you don’t have anything to cry about. Mama’s gonna take care of you.”

Jack starts to panic, imagining something happening to you or the baby. The fear crawls up his throat until he chokes, terrified to see you hurt or worse. You cradle the baby and he shakes his head, stepping back. “I- I’m sorry, omega. I can’t - fuck.” He tries to inhale but he can’t seem to breathe. The panic tightening his chest and he grips his shirt. “I- sorry.” He gasps and turns on his heel, running out of his home and onto the porch, desperately trying to breathe but he can’t.

You let out a sob of disbelief, unable to believe that he had run so quickly, but that seems to be Jack’s style. “Damn you, Jack Daniels.” You huff, tears starting to slide down your cheeks and you decide that you are done. “Do not let him back inside.” You instruct the midwife. “I don’t want him here.”

Jack can barely see as he drives back to the compound. His fingers gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline and he has tears running down his cheeks as he tries to drive away from his omega and his newborn daughter. He’s toxic and he knows he’d hurt them eventually so he might as well get it over with. 

When he arrives back at the compound, Ginger is there to meet him with a slap to the face. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She hisses, “that’s it, Jack. You need to go to the therapist. No more excuses or trying to act like you’re fine. You just abandoned the best thing to ever happen to you and it’s gonna destroy you. You need help.” 

Jack can’t even argue. He nods, slumping as he struggles to breathe again. Ginger pulls him into her arms, knowing he’s struggling with everything

It hurts more than you ever thought to know that he didn’t even try to come back inside. That your daughter - his daughter - was so unimportant that he didn’t want to see her again. It makes you realize that you had done the right thing, not telling him about your pregnancy. Still you hesitate to break your bond, despite it hurting you. Instead, you focus on your daughter and the first days pass quickly, getting used to being a mother and learning to breastfeed your daughter.

Jack rubs his hands on his jeans, standing up from the sofa. His therapy session is over, one of many that he’s been attending to work through his issues and he’s stepping out of the room when he gets the call. “Ging.” He answers and she says words he doesn’t ever want to hear. 

It’s all a fuzzy noise but he hears her say “collapsed” and “hospital” and he’s rushing to the hospital without a second thought. He gives you name and is running into your room, finding you unconscious on the bed, the baby in the bassinet beside you. 

The doctor follows him in and explains that you collapsed. A hemorrhage from the birth and you had called 911 before you collapsed so they brought the baby with you as it didn’t appear anyone was at home with you. Jack nearly collapses himself from guilt and the doctor says you are touch and go for now, they need to see if the clots have traveled to your brain so they are taking you for a scan. 

The baby begins to cry and Jack walks over to cradle her, tears in his eyes as the guilt swallows him whole. “Hey sweetheart. It’s daddy. I- I should’ve been there. I’m so sorry.” He chokes, leaning down to kiss her forehead before he looks over at you.

The baby squawks and tears up again, unhappy that her mother isn’t holding her, but you don’t stir. You can’t. You are locked in a dream where Jack leaves you, over and over again, making your heart ache and your body shudder in pain. A dream where your daughter doesn’t exist because he never would mate you after that first time. 

The doctor tells Jack that they have put you in a coma to keep your brain protected in case of any blood clots and Jack spends what seems like days in the hospital room. The baby can’t stay in there forever since you have breast milk at home so he has to go home and let her sleep, feed her, and Ginger has to help him learn how to take care of his daughter. 

It’s been a week since you went into hospital and Jack doesn’t think he can imagine his life without his child. He’s fallen in love with her, wanting to be her father and protect her from the horrors of the world. He rocks her as he sits down on the plastic chair, diaper bag at his feet as he sits beside you. “Hey, baby girl. Me and Ella are here.” He says, looking down at the sleeping baby in his arms.

Your eyes flutter and you groan quietly. You feel like you are being pulled out of a deep sleep. You can hear Jack talking, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. The baby is cooing and you remember her face, holding her. Grunting you try to reach for her but your limbs feel like they are weighed down.

Jack cradles the baby and notices you’ve woken up. “Omega.” He murmurs softly, not wanting to startle you and he steps closer, “omega, it’s me.” He says and leans down to smile at you, not wanting to startle you. “It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay.” He promises, leaning in to reassure you.

“J- Jack?” You try to open your eyes but they are so heavy, taking you several moments before you can finally peel them open. “Wh- where’s the baby?” You ask groggily, not seeing her at first and then panicking. “The baby- where’s my baby?”

Jack leans over, Ella still in his arms, and he shows her to you. “It’s okay, baby. She’s here. She’s here.” He assures you, tilting his arms to show you the baby as the nurses come in, wanting to check on you since your alarms went off with your waking up.

“Wha-what happened?” You are confused and agitated with the nurses poking you when all you want is to hold your baby. Relieved when they move so you aren’t looking around them to see Ella, you reach for her the moment you can. “Give her to me.” You beg Jack, desperate to hold her again. “Why am I here?”

The nurses help you sit up and get you situated, checking your vitals but all you want is for Ella to be in your arms. Jack doesn’t argue, reaching out to slide the baby gently into your arms and you immediately pull her close. Jack watches you, tearing stinging in his eyes. “She has been fed and changed. I- I found the breast milk in the freezer.” He explains, wanting to reassure you.

“Why are you here?” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but Jack has done nothing but abandon you. You don’t want him here. It’s hard to ignore the calming pheromones he’s sending out but you cuddle your daughter close and lean over her, as if you could protect her from the alpha in the room. Your blood pressure spikes and you look up at Jack for an explanation.

Jack shakes his head, "I know you hate me but...at least let me be there for our little girl. I have taken care of her in the time you've been unconscious and I love her. I want to be her father. Please, if anything, let me be a father to her. That's all I ask, baby girl."

“What? So you can leave her too? Alpha?” You sneer his designation and shake your head. “You’re only here because I wasn’t able to take care of her. Now you will just leave again and I’d rather you do it when she won’t be hurt by it.” You tell him. “You left her when she was less than five minutes old.”

Jack swallows, knowing he deserves your anger. “I- I know you hate me but I’ve been working on myself in therapy. I have tried to - to work through my issues and I’m doing better. I know now how wrong I’ve been. I should’ve been there. This entire time. I love you. I love her. I know I don’t deserve a second chance but darlin’, walkin’ away will kill me but I’ll do it for you.” He vows, his breathing picking up.

You hadn’t expected a fight, but his easy acquiesce to your demands just proves that you had been right. He would just leave again. As much as your omega is begging you to climb out of your bed and follow him, you can’t. This is about what’s best for you and your baby. Not what your omega wants.

It’s so hard to walk out but he has to. He can’t stay there and agitate you when you need to rest. It kills him to leave but he does and eventually, he ends up in the house, preparing it for your return. Buying groceries and doing the laundry, he cleans and makes sure it’s ready for your return.

You have to stay in the hospital another twelve hours, but eventually they release you. There wasn’t a clot and your bleeding had returned to normal, so there’s no reason for you to stay. When you are discharged, you call Ginger to take you and the baby home, telling her that you’ve sent Jack away. That you are going to break your bond when you get home. You want to be free of an alpha who never really wanted you to begin with.

When you arrive home, Jack is waiting with dinner cooked and everything ready for you to relax. He knows you are going to be tired despite being in the coma and he desperately wants you to be okay and healthy even if you hate him. When the door opens, he waits for you and swallows harshly, knowing you’re gonna want him to leave.

Frowning, you freeze when you see Jack inside, wondering what he is doing here. You smell food and you are surprised that he has cooked. Or bought food, you didn’t know Jack could cook, but there are a lot of things that you don’t know about him. Instead of saying anything, you try to ignore the soothing scent of his alpha and go about getting the baby settled back in because she needs to eat again and then go to bed.

Jack sighs when you don’t say anything to him but he doesn’t react. Instead, he lays the table for your dinner and gets you some water. He hears you putting Ella in her crib and he swallows harshly, waiting for you to come out as he leans against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed as he waits for you.

You walk back into the living room and despite not seeing him, you still feel him here. Coming into the kitchen, you see him waiting there. “You are still here?” You ask, feigning surprise. “Can’t say as I expected that. Did you need something from me?”

“No. No. I don’t need anything. I just - I want to be there for you and this is my house. I’m not leavin’. I’ll stay in the spare room but I ain’t leavin’ my family. I want a second chance and I- seein’ you in that hospital bed…seein’ you and looking after Ella…it made me realize what is so important. It’s you and Ella. My family. I quit Statesmen.” He announces, knowing you won’t accept him but he’s not walking away again.

Your mouth drops open in shock and you shake your head. “You quit your job? You live for your job.” You protest and huff. It makes you frown and you wonder how long it would take for him to grow bored and want to go back. “Jack, you shouldn’t have done that.”

He shakes his head, “I quit because it’s not my life anymore. You are. You and Ella. Omega, I don’t want to be away from you. I have spoken to my therapist and I’ve been workin’ through my shit. I’m not perfect. I ain’t ever gonna be, but I want to be with you.”

They are words that you have desperately  wanted to hear for so long. Your heart aches and you want to believe him, but you shake your head. “Until when, Jack?” You have been purposefully calling him by his name instead of alpha. “I'm sorry, I just can’t trust you.” You admit sadly. “I can’t make you go, but I don’t want you in my nest.”

“I understand that, sugar. I don’t want to push this but I’m not leavin’. I’ll be here, helping with Ella and helping you after you just got out of the hospital. I’m gonna look after you both. What I should’ve been doing this entire time.” He sighs, feeling guilty and he reminds himself of his techniques from his therapist.

“You should have been doing that.” You won’t let him get off easy. “I was going to break our bond tonight.” You announce. “Give you the freedom you have wanted for nearly a year.”

Jack is surprised to hear that even though he shouldn’t be. It’s painful to remove the bond, and it can lead to death. “You- you were gonna - oh baby girl. I- fuck.” He blinks a few times, shocked to hear that and he feels a little sick. He shakes his head, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shrug, trying to blink back tears. “You never wanted me. Not really. And I’ve been selfish by keeping the bond in place.” You might be a little emotional, but you’ve given it a lot of thought.

“No. No. I’ve been the selfish one. Running away from my responsibility, from what should’ve been my salvation. I’ve led a lonely life until you came along and I shouldn’t have run away, I - there’s a reason I bonded with you. We are meant to be, even if you don’t see that right now. Give me a second chance to prove to you that I can be your alpha, be a good father.”

You smile sadly, aware that your omega is leaping at the chance to reconcile. You shake your head. “I don’t know if that’s going to happen.” You admit. “I give you one week before you are leaving. A week would be longer than you’ve ever stayed before.”

Jack sighs, knowing he has to prove it to you and he’s prepared to do that. “Give me one week, just one week. And if I’m gone, you can break the bond and - fuck - find someone to shoot my ass. But if I’m here for more than a week…I want you to give me a second chance. To allow me to prove to you that I’m fully in this.” He pleads softly, dark eyes wide under the rim of his hat.

“One week.” It won’t make a difference to Ella if Jack stayed for a week, if he left she would still be too young to imprint on him. “If you are here after a week, I will see about giving you another chance.” It’s all you can offer him right now. “I don’t know if you understand how much you hurt me, Jack.” You murmur quietly. “Especially leaving after Ella was born.”

“I know, baby girl. I know.” He nods, knowing he can’t take back that agony, the hurt he caused, but he can try to make up for it now. He gestures to the table, “sit and eat. Please. I don’t want us to forget you’ve just been in the hospital.”

You are grateful that he made you something to eat, so you don’t argue. Pulling the chair out and sitting down, you look at the meal and smile. “Thank you. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” You admit quietly. “I don’t know if my supply of breast milk has dried up. The nurses said they pumped me, but they never said if the supply was dwindling.”

Jack bites his lip, “I - the nurses did say it might have dried up so I got some formula. You still have a good supply in the freezer and I- shit - I should’ve been here when you collapsed. I should’ve been taking care of you.”

You bite your lip, aware that he’s right, but it’s not like you can go back in time. Instead you just nod and start to eat. Your appetite comes back quickly and you start eating hungrily and surprise yourself with how much you enjoyed the fact that this alpha made you food. “Thank you.” You offer quietly when you put down your fork.

Jack knows he doesn't deserve a second chance but he's prepared to work for it. He knows that he can't walk away from his omega and his daughter. "I'll go check on Ella. Eat your meal, baby girl." He says and leaves you in peace. He has a week to prove to you that he's all in and he's going to do this.

You listen to him through the baby monitor, softly cooing to the still sleeping baby. It makes your heart clench and you close your eyes, reminding yourself that he’s got a habit of saying what he needs to in the moment. You sigh softly, wondering what you are going to do, so determined to break the bond when you left the hospital.

The next week passes by with Jack helping you with Ella and around the house. He wants you to know he’s being serious. He’s quit Statesmen and he’s here for you and Ella. He sighs as he makes up Ella’s bottle and he’s exhausted. Sleeping in the guest bedroom, he’s struggling to rest when his mind rolls over the things he regrets while waiting for you to at least give him a chance.

You shuffle into the kitchen, sleepy eyed and just woken up to make a bottle. Not expecting Jack to already be up. You hum and move over towards him. “Is that for Ella, alpha?” You ask quietly, voice laden with sleep and calling him by his designation almost by accident. This week has shown you what a considerate and helpful alpha he is capable of being. Slowly, your wariness has eased and while you still feel the ache of separation, it’s not the searing pain it had been when you were apart.

Jack preens at your response to his helping and his efforts, happy that you seem to be warming up to him. He checks the bottle on his wrist and Ella is still crying through the monitor. “I’ll get her.” Jack says, making his way into the nursery to cradle his daughter, cooing to her while he places the bottle at her lips. She latches it on and starts to gulp down the milk. “That’s it, sweetheart.” He murmurs

The sounds of her father talking to her filter through the monitor and you can’t help but smile. He is making an effort and it has done wonders for you. The issues with your health are all but resolved and you feel better than you had when you had been carrying her. As you listen to them, you start the coffee and breakfast, aware that both of you need to eat.

Jack changes Ella after she finishes her bottle and he carries her into the kitchen to see you cooking and he frowns, “I was gonna make you some pancakes, baby girl.” He says, stepping closer to you. “You still need your rest.”

“I can make breakfast.” You promise him. “I think I might have slept more than you did last night.” You’ve noticed that the tired look on his face has gotten worse and you nudge a cup of coffee towards him. “Do I need to take her?”

Jack shakes his head, “I’ll do it. You want some eggs and bacon? I’ve got her.” He smiles down at Ella who snuggles into his chest and he leans down to kiss her forehead. “I’ve got my little Angel.” Jack coos, rocking her and he can feel you watching him.

“You like being a father.” You realize, smiling slightly when you do. “That’s - that’s good.” You bite your lip, trying to ignore how sexy he is with the baby in his arms and your omega begs for you to slide closer and touch him. Your body isn’t recovered enough for physical affection, but that need is growing.

“I never - it’s not something I ever thought I’d get the chance to do. I never wanted to because of…you know. But this little one, she’s stolen my heart and I can’t imagine not wantin’ to be her daddy.” He confesses, “I want to be there for her…and for you, omega.”

You shiver and can’t quite suppress the small whine. Enjoying the way that it feels when he calls you ‘omega’ in such a possessive tone. “You’ve been here for a week.” You venture, glancing up from the eggs to look into his soft brown eyes. “And you’re still here.”

Jack nods, not wanting to expand on that. Ultimately, it’s your choice if he gets a second chance. He bites his lip, “and…and do you want me to leave?” He asks, unsure of where you are going with this. If you’re trying to let him down gently.

“Do you want to leave?” You want the truth, but you know it, deep down in your soul. 

“I don’t, omega.” Jack promises you. “I want to stay here with you and our little Angel.” 

It’s the answer you want and you know that he’s not lying, he wants to stay. “I- I’m not recovered yet.” You venture softly. “So I understand if you don’t want to be in my nest.” He hadn’t come into your room unless Ella needed something and then it’s only been once since you’ve been home. “But you could if you wanted to.”

Jack is taken back, certain that you were going to kick him out and when you don’t, he’s relieved. His heart thumping and he comes closer to you, leaning down to drop a kiss onto your forehead. “I want that. I want to be there for you, omega. I want to be yours.” He promises, leaning back to look at you with sincerity in his eyes.

“Okay.” You nod, your heart swelling and the ache that has been so present, starts to slowly go away. You know it won’t be fully gone until he touches you, but it’s barely noticeable. “I want to be yours, alpha.” You admit shyly.

He wants to scream with relief. The last week has been difficult for him, feeling the ache you’ve been feeling being separated from you. Accepting the bond has led to him having a dull ache and he wants to hold you. “Good.” He says after he clears his throat, cradling Ella still. “I’ll come back to your nest.”

“When she- “ you pause and then decide to continue your suggestion. “When Ella goes down for her nap, do you want to curl up with me? Sleep? I know you are tired.” You look over at him and bite your lip. “We can have our own nap.”

Jack nods, shifting to sit down at the kitchen table, watching you eat and he’s happy that you are eating again. After you eat, he slides Ella into your arms so he can clear up and soon enough, it’s time for Ella’s nap. He gives her her bottle and changes her before he lays her down. Grabbing the monitor, he follows you into your bedroom - his bedroom - and stays back as he waits for you to make the first move.

Your nest has been cleaned since giving birth, all the bedding changed out and it doesn’t smell like Jack anymore. Something that you had missed, even though you tried to deny it. “It is comfortable but I can make it bigger if you need some space away from me.” You offer, not wanting him to feel like he has to be pressed up against you. Your bed is large, but the nest of blankets and pillows makes the space feel crowded.

Jack shakes his head, “no baby. Let’s take a nap. I want to feel you, I want to smell you.” He says and you nod, shifting to lay down on the bed. He lays down beside you, curling around you and he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

You whine happily, feeling your body relax for the first time in months. Since the last time that he had been in your nest. You reach for his hands and cover them with your own. “Please be here when I wake up, alpha.” You murmur sleepily.

“Always.” He vows softly. Jack holds you as you fall asleep, wanting to comfort you and keep you safe. He closes his eyes and breathes you in, happy to be in your nest after he doesn’t deserve this because of the way he treated you.

It’s probably the best sleep you’ve had in a long time, in fact, you know it is. You sleep hard, aware that your alpha is tucked around you and his own pheromones have changed from slightly distressed to pure happiness and calm. Weaving through your own senses and making your omega purr happily as you soak up the scent of him. Both of you sleep, as long as you can until Ella cries break through the fog of sleep and you open your eyes.

Jack kisses your hair, “I’ve got her. Go back to sleep.” He rasps, shifting away from you to fetch Ella. He has stepped up and he plans to keep doing so, he just hopes that you allow him to keep being there for you and your daughter. 

**** 

“Jack!” You cry, stomach aching and Jack knows what this is. He’s been anticipating it and you haven’t discussed what you want to do. 

“Omega.” He murmurs, keeping his distance from you even though he desperately wants to touch you. “I need - you gotta tell me what you want.” He orders, needing to hear you say what you want.

You whimper and you know what you want. What you need. “Alpha.” You beg softly. “I need you. Please.” You are completely recovered from Ella’s birth and it will be the first time that he has touched you since then.

Jack hesitates but you whine his name and he crumbles. He nods, shifting closer to your best. Ella is napping and he knows he will have to balance caring for you and for Ella during your heat. He wastes no time stripping down, shifting to kneel on the bed he’s been sharing with you. “Tell me what you want.” He demands, wanting to please you.

“You.” You squirm in anticipation, needing the rough, yet tender approach to fulfilling your needs that Jack gives you. “Just you, I want- I need - your knot stretching me out.”

He can’t deny you anything. He nods and shifts closer, pushing your legs wide and he caresses your thighs, positioning himself between them and he leans down to capture your lips with his, wanting this to be soft and sweet. His heart pounds in his chest and his fingers find your clit, rubbing soft circles.

Your eyes flutter closed and you moan into his mouth. Your body is already responding to his scent and the nimbleness of his fingers as they work your clit. “Alpha.” You whine softly and your hips push up into his hand.

Jack groans at how wet you are, loving how you need him like this. He never imagined he’d have this again and it makes him throb. His fingers slide lower to push inside of you, scissoring to open you up for him and his thumb presses against your clit while he kisses along your throat.

You moan softly, your omega preening under the attention. Cunt clenching down around him. You curl your fingers around the bedding of your nest and hold on tight. “Alpha, so good.”

His tongue lathes over your scent gland, inhaling you deeply, and he loves how you feel and sound. “God, I fuckin’ love you, baby.” He murmurs, knowing it’s true. He does love you and he nearly lost it all because he’s an idiot who refused to seek help for his trauma. It nearly cost him everything. His fingers continue working inside of you, wanting you to cum like this.

Your eyes close, absorbing the feeling of his admission. Enjoying the sound of it and feeling the emotions linger in the air through his scent. Feeling how much he loves you, the need in his touch. He needs you as much as you need him. Turning your head, you blindly kiss along his cheek as he continues to push your body towards the first orgasm of your heat. “I love you, alpha.”

Your confession makes his heart clench and he loves it, he wants to hear you say it again and again. “Fuck, baby. Yes. I love you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He asks, pushing his fingers a little deeper inside of you. “You gonna cum, omega?” He murmurs, turning his head to kiss your lips.

“Yes, yes, I’m gonna cum.” You gasp out, your body shaking in pleasure and the next curl of his fingers deep inside you makes your orgasm slam through you. Crying out his name, your cunt gushes around his fingers and the pleasure fires through every nerve ending in your body as waves of pheromones waft out of your pores, signaling your satisfaction.

Jack works you through it, loving the way your scent is saturated with lust and love. Its intoxicating and he groans your name, withdrawing his fingers to push them into his mouth. “So fucking perfect.” He groans and leans in to press his lips to yours. “I love you.” He murmurs, shifting to grip his cock in his fingers.

Reaching down, you bat his fingers away and replace them with your own. Enjoying the way that he groans into your mouth when you squeeze him and start to slowly stroke his cock as he lines up to your wet cunt. "Please make me yours, alpha." You beg quietly. "I need you to make me yours."

He knows you are giving yourself to him now, all of you, voluntarily, and he loves that. He can't believe he gets to have you like this. He nudges his nose against yours before he starts to slowly push inside of you. "Fuck omega, my omega." He murmurs, eyes closed as he savors the wet heat surrounding his cock.

The fear, the pain of the past year seems to just melt away as he slides inside you. "Alpha." You moan, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer so that he is fully seated inside you. The burn, the stretch is exactly what you wanted and you love it.

"Fuckkkk darlin'" He groans, low and raspy as he pulls back to look down at you. So fucking beautiful and all his. He can't believe you are his, that you want him. He could die happy right here. He kisses your chin, giving you a moment to adjust to him and he kisses your jaw.

"I want to stay right here forever." You whimper, smiling as you enjoy the weight of him on top of you. "I love your cock inside me, alpha." You admit, tightening your thighs around him.

"It's your cock, baby girl." He promises, starting to rock his hips and move inside of you. "I love you darlin'" He murmurs, reaching down to grip your thigh so he can push deeper inside of you. His pace is slow but he can feel you getting needier so he starts to rock a little faster until he's got a deep, quick pace.

Your heat doesn’t seem to be burning through you this time, unable to be satiated. It has to be because your alpha is here, taking care of you. His lips press against your scent gland where his mark is still displayed. “Fuck. Baby. So good.” You moan, rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts.

He caresses every inch of your skin that he can reach, ducking his head down to take your nipple into his mouth and he sucks on it as his cock moves inside of you.

Instead of being furious and deep, every roll of his hips takes its sweet time. Like he has all the time in the world. Making love to you rather than just fulfilling your needs during a heat. You moan his name softly, the sound filling your nest and you cling to him as he takes your body and makes it sing for him.

The normally frantic breeding that occurs during a heat is slowed down so he can show you how he feels. He rocks into you, lowering his hips so he can angle his pelvis to rub against your clit with every roll of his hips. “I - fuck - you feel so good, omega. Need my baby to cum again for me.” Jack pleads, kissing along your neck.

You whine and nod as he continues his slow and steady decimation of your cunt. Filling you thoroughly over and over again while he groans your name and then your designation. "Alpha." you whimper, feeling the coil in your belly pull tighter and start to fray. "Gonna cum."

“Good girl. That’s it. Cum for me. Soak my cock like a good omega. My girl, my beautiful girl.” He groans, feeling you clamp down on his cock and you throw your head back as you cum, making him surge forward to sink his teeth into your gland again, wanting to claim you again.

Your cry is loud, ringing out when he sinks his teeth into your gland. “Jack! Fuck, alpha, I’m yours, I’m yours.” You chant, riding out your high and shuddering in pleasure.

Jack withdraws his teeth, licking over the wound, and he rocks his hips harder and faster, the urge to claim you in every way overwhelming him as he fucks into you. “Love you baby girl. Fuck. I’m gonna-” His knot swells and he thrusts a half dozen times before he’s pushing deep inside of you until he’s painting your walls with his hot cum.

There is something primal about feeling his seed flood your womb again, his knot keeping it inside you. Your cunt clenches around him and makes it feel even better, prompting another orgasm as he pumps you full. Stroking his face, you moan again and again. "Alpha, oh my alpha, I love you."

Jack shifts onto his back, bringing you with him to lay on his chest and he caresses your spine. “I love you too, darlin’” He murmurs, closing his eyes and he feels like he’s home. “I don’t ever wanna lose you.” He confesses, “I ain’t gonna walk away again. I’m here forever.” He promises you.

You close your eyes and sigh happily, snuggling deeper into his arms and breathing him in. “I love you too, Jack. Alpha.” You murmur softly. “I’m glad you want to stay. I need you. Always.”

Jack kisses your hair, knowing that nothing is going to drag him away from you. He loves you more than life itself and he won’t leave again. He’s going to continue seeing his therapist and he wants to be a better man for his family, a better alpha for his omega. You once asked him if he regrets bonding with you and he said no, he means that. He could never regret finding happiness again, even if it took him a while to figure it out.

[aaabsinthe]

Valorant Male Agents Masterlist

Key

Angst: -

Fluff: =

Smut (18+): *

Breach

Brimstone

Chamber

Cypher

Gekko

Harbor

KAY/O

Omen

Phoenix

Sova

Yoru

[hauntingcryptids]

Work Hard, Rest Hard

O x Reader ( Dhawan!Master x Reader)

Summary - Your roommate O is incredibly kind; he is very willing to help you calm down in any way he can.

Based On This Request - Anonymous requested - “Hi! May I ask for a soft fic with The Master where they hypnotise The Reader?”

Warnings - the reader is incredibly stressed, anxiety, hypnotism, hypnotism without consent

Word Count - 947

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Requested by this lovely anon! I will link the other fics inspired by this request HERE, if you would like to read them. I hope that you enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------

You had been living with O for a couple of weeks now. Your last roommate moved out randomly and you had been scrambling every day to find a new roommate at such short notice. Thankfully, O moved in pretty soon after and was able to pay for half of the rent, which you had been struggling to pay in full on your own.

O was very willing to pay for the next couple of weeks' rent in full to make up for when you had to pay the rent in full. But you refused. You didn’t want your new roommate to be forced into doing something like that. But O did that anyway. He wanted to relieve some stress from your shoulders. He could see that you were tense, and he wanted to help you without being too intrusive about your personal life.

With O’s help, a lot of stressors were removed from your plate, but you still had so many things to do. The thing that kept you up most nights, however, was your work. You were a bit behind on things and were given a notice to have everything completed by the upcoming Monday, but you also had to complete this week's work, as well. You would have to stay up late to finish it all in time. 

You were currently pacing around the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, when O walked into the kitchen.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great.” You mumbled insecurely while tapping your foot wildly.

“You seem a little stressed.”

“No, I’m perfectly fine.” O walked up to you as you were preparing your tea.

“You can tell me anything. Just so you know.”

“You don’t mean that.” You huffed. To you, O was still a stranger and why would a stranger care about you and your health?

“I do.” O tentatively placed a hand on your shoulder causing you to finally look into your roommate's eyes. He did look to be incredibly sincere, so you broke down and told O the truth.

“Things are just a bit complicated with work. I’m struggling to stay on top of things.”

“I have some work to do. We could maybe just work together. Make sure that we through everything.” You nodded, relieved, to O. 

You and O worked together for a while. O seemed to be flying through all of his work, but you, on the other hand, were still struggling immensely. You looked over at O typing away on his laptop then returned to stare at your own computer; barely a sentence was written on the open document. You switched to writing some notes in a notebook; you hoped that physical handwriting would make your brain flow better. But unfortunately for you, that did not help. You slammed your notebook down on the table and groaned in mental agony.

“I can’t do this O! It's just too stressful! And I’m not good enough!”

“Don’t say stuff like that. I know that you can do this.”

“No! No, I can’t. I should just quit because I’m such a failure!” You stood up and began pacing as you had before in the kitchen. You felt yourself begin to start heaving breaths. Air didn’t seem to fill your lungs fast enough. You then began to flap your hands back and forth in an attempt to call yourself down. But nothing worked and now you felt like your head was spinning.

“Shh shh, look at me.” O was suddenly in front of you, holding you by your shoulders.

“O?”

“Just look at me. You can do that right?” You nodded as O cradled your face in his hands. O’s soft thumbs were resting on your temples, rubbing circles into your flesh every so often.

“Now take some deep breaths with me.” O instructed and you did as you were told.

“Better?” O asked after a few minutes of the two of you breathing deeply together and you nodded in response. How did you suddenly feel so much better? 

“Do you want me to make you some food?” O’s hands returned to your shoulders and continued to hold you tightly.

“You don’t have to.” 

“Look at me.” O said sternly, but with a lace of warmth; that mix of emotions you had never been on the receiving end of before. You locked eyes with your roommate and felt that feeling again, that feeling of calm and reassurance you had after O had helped you relax.

“Do you want food?” O asked again and you nodded.

“Okay, I’ll make you your favourite. Why don’t you take a nap while I prepare it?” You nodded again as an intense wave of tiredness washed over you. You felt like you had nothing to say even though many responses were rippling around your mind. But before you could question anything that had happened you were fast asleep on the couch.

You woke up to O stroking your arm and muttering something that you couldn’t understand. 

“Hello, sleepy head. Have a nice rest?” O crooked his head to the side to look at your fully.

“Yeah, surprisingly I did.”

“The food’s ready and I planned out a system to best complete everything.”

“O, you didn’t have to do any of this.” You said as you fully sat up.

“Of course I did! Now, let’s get through this together, shall we?” O held out his hand for you and you took it, happily, excited for the evening with O. You didn’t know why, but you just had this gut feeling that O would do anything to help you, and that feeling calmed you down more than anything else in your life had.

[harveybwabbit92]

{Depot Agent bros: Ingo and Emmet doing paperwork with Depot agent Jonas, the twins are randomly clicking their pens]

Emmet: [clicks pen]

Ingo: [clicks pen in response]

Jonas: Stop that.

Ingo: Stop what?

Jonas: You’re talking about me in Morse code.

Emmet: Yes, that’s what we’re doing. Jonas, In our very limited free time, we took a class on a very outdated and verrry unnecessary form of communication just so we could talk about you in front of you.

[Later...]

Emmet, to Y/n and E-S/o: Yep! That’s exactly what we did.

[romanticbat]

Requests rules!! (Requests closed)

What I will write:

- Fandoms: Carmen Sandiego, Welcome home

- Character x Reader

- Character x Character (some ships are not allowed)

- platonic relationships

- hcs

- one-shots

What I will NOT write:

- romantic big age-gaps ships

- comships in general

- more than 3 characters in the same hcs/scenarios (only if it's neccesary to make them separated, if they can be in the same list of hcs, it's ok)

Examples of how to request:

- "Hi! Can I get hcs of *character* with a S/O with male pronoums who likes shiny things?"

- "Can I request a one-shot of *character 1* who sees *character 2* as a sibling"

- "Hey, can you write *character*, *character* and *character* with an ACME agent!S/O with female pronoums pls?"

- "Can I get *Character* dating hcs? With GN reader pls

Examples of how NOT to request:

- "Hi, Can I get *VILE operative* x *faculty member* hcs?

- "Can I get *Character* with S/O?"

- "Can I get *7 characters* with a baker!S/O?"

Ps: pls put the pronouns of the reader in the request and if it's a one-shot or hcs or I will probably assume it's hcs and neutral pronoums

[flowersforbucky]

oil & water

bucky barnes x reader

prompt - "If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so."

shout out to @ellemj for her encouragement with this ♡

warnings/tags: SMUT, vaginal penetration, oral sex (female receving), face sitting, mentions of violence, description of blood & wounds, no use of y/n, reader is afab, hurt/comfort trope, bickering & banter, friends to lovers, forced close proximity trope. 18 plus only!

word count: 5.8k

“Roll your window up,” Bucky snaps at you as he turns down the music you had just put on moments ago. “The last thing we need is someone noticing the blood caked all over the entire right side of your body.” 

As if the lack of functioning AC in the twenty-something year old getaway car (an early 2000’s model Chevy Aveo is inconspicuous, according to Sam) wasn’t stifling enough in the south Georgia summer, the annoyance radiating from the brooding super soldier sitting next to you adds an extra ten degrees. 

Sure, Sam. Inconspicuous is the right word to describe a six foot, two hundred plus pound man with a metal arm cramped behind the driver’s seat of the equivalent to a clown car. Bright fucking cherry red and all. 

“It’s 103 degrees outside.” You glare at him from the passenger seat, where you’re using a tattered handkerchief found in the glove compartment to put pressure on the knife wound on your shoulder. “I’m going to have a heatstroke.” 

“You’re not going to have a heatstroke,” he rolls his eyes at you. “That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck.” 

“Ha-ha-ha,” you say under your breath, reluctantly rolling up the manual window with your still bleeding arm. “I got the fucking intel, did I not?” 

You remove the USB drive from its secure location in the cup of your bra and flash it at Bucky. “Though we’ll be lucky if this thing still works after being drowned in boob sweat, since you won’t let me keep the window rolled down.” 

“And nearly got yourself killed in the process.” He grabs the flashdrive from you and grimaces. “We’ll be at the safehouse in less than five minutes, if you can please just refrain from stroking out or bleeding out in the meantime.” 

You glance down at the once white handkerchief clutched in your hand. “I’m not making you any guarantees.” 

You're welcome for saving your ass, by the way, you resist adding. 

Jokes aside, the energy exerted in bringing down over a dozen HYDRA agents in combination with the July heat and the substantial blood loss from your shoulder wound has you feeling woozier by the minute. Factor in a few potentially fractured ribs and a dislocated knee and you're in pretty rough shape. 

As promised, just under five minutes later Bucky parks in front of a small trailer just outside the city limits of Valdosta. It's seen better days, but you don't mind as long as it has semi-functioning air conditioning. 

Bucky is opening your car door and offering you a hand up before you can take in your surroundings. You force yourself out of your seat, ignoring his outstretched hand and attempting to stand on your own, doing your best to ignore the borderline blinding pain radiating from your right knee. 

“Thanks, but I think I can–” 

Your vision goes fuzzy as you stumble forward, right into Bucky's chest. Your hand instinctively clutches the fabric of his shirt as you attempt to regain your balance.

“Let me guess. You're capable of stitching up your own shoulder, too?” 

He gently loops his arm around your waist, slowly walking the two of you to the front door of the trailer. You try to focus on keeping pressure on the gash on your shoulder and not the feeling of his toned body pressed against you. How does he smell so good after hand to hand combat and sitting in that sauna of a car? You're sure you probably smell like a wet diaper that's been left in the sun for–

Bucky opens the door and guides you inside. The interior of the safehouse is surprisingly homey and clean. It's still uncomfortably warm, but offers a nice reprieve from the violent mid-day sun. 

Bucky leads you into the small living space before maneuvering you out of his hold, where you all but collapse onto a suede sofa.

“I guess you do have some amount of good luck, after all,” you mumble, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky glances at you from over his shoulder as he flicks on the AC. 

“That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck,” you quote his sarcastic comment from the car ride. 

“Ha-ha-ha,” he fake laughs just as you did. He rummages through a few cabinets and drawers of the small kitchen before finding everything he’s searching for, then makes his way back to where you are on the couch. 

“Drink this.” He hands you a bottle of water that you hadn't even noticed him grab. For once you don't object to his instructions, uncapping the bottle and gulping down the contents as quickly as you can. 

“You're not having a heatstroke,” he assures you. “But you are going to have to let me stitch up this crater on your shoulder and pop your knee back into place.” 

You sit forward, removing the now fully soaked cloth that you've been holding to your shoulder for the last half hour. 

Bucky winces at the sight of it, handing you a dishrag before opening a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “You might want to bite down on–” 

“I know the drill.” You sigh before putting the rag between your teeth. 

He hesitates for a moment before pouring the clear liquid over the wound. You groan against the rag, your eyes squint shut in pain. You've had your fair share of broken bones and black eyes working in this field, but you don't think you'll ever get used to the pain of getting stitches without the comforts of saline solution and anesthesia.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dabbing the cut dry with a paper towel. 

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “It's part of the job. I've come out of missions worse than this before,” you shrug, squeezing the dish rag he gave you until your knuckles go white as he makes the first incision. 

“Never because of me.” 

You glance at him, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. His gaze doesn't leave the thread and needle that he's using to close up the gash on your arm - his normally plump pout set into a hard line. 

“You know this isn't your fault, right?” You keep your eyes locked on him. “I saw that guy coming at you out of nowhere and I panicked. I wasn't watching my own back. That's my fault, not yours,” you say earnestly. 

“If you say so.” He glances up for a split second, giving you a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes. 

“Is that why you've been such a grouch? You're blaming yourself for me not being careful enough?” 

“Maybe,” he admits quietly. “Or maybe I just hate seeing you covered in blood for any reason.” 

You freeze at the bluntness of his words. You and Bucky have been partners on more missions than you could count at this point - you know that he would have done the same for you if the situation had been reversed; in fact, there had been times where he had taken the brunt of the fight in order to protect you. 

All of those instances suddenly flash through your mind. 

The time he used himself as a human shield when there was a bomb set off during a recon mission at a warehouse in Tokyo. Or when he football tackled you out of the direct line of an incoming dagger during an operation in Portland. Not to mention the time he left a job all the way in Prague unfinished because he merely suspected you had a concussion. 

You had always chalked it up to “that’s what partners do,” but the pained expression on his face as he refuses to meet your eyes has you questioning if there could possibly be more to it. 

No. You’re his partner. He’d do the same for anyone else. He wouldn’t want to see anyone on his team covered in blood if he could prevent it. 

The two of you sit in a thick silence while he finishes stitching you up. 

“There,” he says at last, clipping the excess suture thread with scissors. “Not quite as good as your stitch work, but I think it’ll hold you together.” His voice isn’t as strained as it was moments ago, though you can't help but notice it sounds forced. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed the tiniest bit at his compliment. “Now for the really fun part,” you add, staring at your throbbing knee. 

“You’re in luck,” he says, perking up a bit. “I’ve popped my own knees back into place an embarrassing amount of times, so this should be a breeze.” He repositions himself to have better access to your leg, moving off the couch to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You attempt to pull the tight fabric of your tactical pants up enough to give him unhindered access to your knee, but it’s too restrictive, immediately causing you to wince in pain. 

“Fuck,” you huff. “I’m going to have to take these off.” You pop the button at the top of your pants and begin to push them down your thighs before insecurity can get the better of you. You try not to think about the fact that Bucky's never seen you in such little clothing - pants now pushed down to your calves, only your underwear and the bra and thin tank top you wore underneath the tactical vest that you took off as soon as you were in the safety of the getaway car left to cover you. 

Hesitation flashes across Bucky’s face for a brief moment before he scoots over slightly, moving directly in front of you so that he can position his hands on either side of your kneecap. You’re painfully aware of the polar opposite feeling of his right and left hand - his flesh hand is warm and so much softer than you’d expect, his metal one icy and smooth. You aren’t sure which causes the visible goosebumps that now litter your skin.

Maybe it’s not his touch at all. Maybe it’s the way his eyes haven’t left your thighs since you exposed them.

Maybe it’s the fact that if you parted your legs just a few inches, he’d be nestled between them. 

Chill out, you berate yourself. He's just relocating your knee for Christ's sake. 

“On the count of three,” he starts and you brace yourself. “One, two–” 

“MOTHERFUCKER.” You yell out at the same moment your knee creates a loud cracking noise that echoes off the walls of the small trailer. “You said count of three!” 

“Would that really have made it less painful?” He shrugs, but doesn't move from where his knees brush against yours. “I think what you mean to say is “thank you, Bucky, you're a lifesaver and I'm now in your debt.” 

“In your fuckin’ dreams,” you scoff. “I'm going to wash all of this blood and sweat off of me.” You move to push yourself off of the couch, tugging your pants back up as you stand. You can feel his eyes trail up your body as you do, making you feel woozy all over again. You turn away from him, heading towards the hallway that the bathroom is likely located down. 

“I could have done that through your pants, by the way.” 

You freeze mid-step, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?” You snap at him. 

“Your knee,” he clarifies, a hint of undeniable mischief in his expression. “I could have popped your knee back into place through your pants. If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so.” 

Just when you thought the safehouse was starting to cool down, your entire body heats up a thousand degrees. You're racking your brain trying to think of a retort when Bucky's ringtone starts blaring from the kitchen countertop. He ignores it, his eyes not leaving yours for what feels like an eternity. 

You finally break the silence. “That's most likely Sam wanting to make sure we're not dead. Should probably answer it.” 

“Probably should,” he smirks, and at last gets up from the coffee table to answer the phone.

You scurry the rest of the way to the bathroom before he can look back at you again, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from your ribcage and the now dull ache that spreads from your knee. 

You turn the water to cold, and don't get out until you've started to shiver. 

— — — — — 

When you exit the bathroom and step back into the connected bedroom in only a towel, you see that Bucky has done you the kindness of bringing in the bags that had been stored in the backseat of the getaway car. 

You dig through your backpack, pulling out a fresh t-shirt and pair of leggings. From the next room, you can smell the aroma of whatever non-perishable food that Bucky has scrounged together. Despite your growing hunger pains, you take your sweet time combing through your freshly rinsed hair. The thought of looking Bucky in the eye after your last interaction nearly makes you lose your appetite. 

What was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn't thinking at all, otherwise I wouldn't have just pushed my fucking pants down right in front of–

“Your five course dinner is getting cold.” Bucky raps his fingers against the bedroom door, startling you from your thoughts. 

“Be right there,” you call back to him, swiping some deodorant under your arms. You take a glance at yourself in the bedroom’s small vanity mirror and immediately wish that you hadn't – you're cleaner than you were by miles, at least no longer covered in your own blood as well as the blood of HYDRA agents – but your cheekbone is lightly bruised, there's a slit on your bottom lip, and the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in a month. 

You take a deep breath and then walk back to the one room that makes up the kitchen, dining area and living room. 

“Beef or shrimp ramen?” Bucky asks as you climb onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the counter from where he's standing. 

“Hm,” you contemplate, not meeting his stare and instead occupying yourself with another bottle of water that he's placed where you now sit. 

Fucker probably wouldn't fluster me so bad if he wasn't being so damn thoughtful.

“I'll go with shrimp,” you answer, remembering that beef is his favorite.

He slides the bowl across the counter and then hands you a fork. You finally get the nerve to look up and meet his stare that feels as if it weighs two tons. 

“So, what did Sam say?” You try to go for light conversation, twisting the fork around your noodles. “Are we free to get out of here once it's dark out?” 

“Not…quite,” he hesitates, now seeming particularly interested in his own food. “The car battery kind of died.” 

“What do you mean the car battery kind of died?” 

“While you were in the shower, I tried to move the car behind the house so that anyone driving by wouldn't immediately know that someone's here. It started fine, but as I was driving it around back it just.. stopped. Had to push it the rest of the way.” 

You let out a dramatic groan as he continues. 

“I called Sam again and he said the earliest they can send someone to get us is in the morning.” 

“Well,” you exhale, blowing a raspberry with your lips. “We can flip a coin to see who gets the bed?” You ask lightheartedly. This isn’t the first time that you and Bucky have had an overnight mission together, but it is the first overnight mission where the two of you haven’t had your own motel rooms or at least a safehouse with two beds.

He looks at you quizzically, furrowing his eyebrows. “You really think there’s a chance of me making you sleep on the couch? In your condition?” 

“My condition?” you laugh. “I’ve got a few stitches, I’m not dying of cancer.” 

“You don’t think I’ve noticed the way it’s uncomfortable for you to inhale and exhale? You’ve probably got a couple fractured ribs with the way you landed on that cement. If not fractured, then at least heavily bruised. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” 

Between his tone and the look on his face, you know it isn’t up for debate. You throw your hands up in faux surrender. 

“Serving me instant ramen and letting me take the king sized bed?” you say teasingly. “Keep it up and I'm going to think that you're soft on me.” 

His gaze on you is heavy as he takes a long sip of water from his own bottle. “Wouldn't that be a shame?” 

— — — — — 

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you lounging in bed, resting your injuries and reading some cheesy western romance novel that you found in the drawer of the bedside table. 

Bucky keeps to the living room, where you hear a violent sounding movie playing from a TV that has to be as old as you are. 

You tell yourself that you're staying in the bedroom because you need to take it easy and relax, but truthfully you feel suffocated by the tension that has been escalating between you and Bucky since you arrived here. 

A certain level of tension had always been there, you knew deep down. From the first time the two of you met almost two years ago. 

Bucky had been formally introduced to the team just a few weeks prior, and it was his first official mission. An undercover mission - just the two of you. 

Posing as an engaged couple at a party thrown at the estate of a notorious crime boss in order to obtain intel. Pretty straight forward - it was far from your first undercover mission. And then it was sprung on you at the last minute that the man who you'd only met once, less than a month ago, was to be your fiancé for the evening. 

The bastard even went as far as to slip the fake engagement ring on your finger himself. 

“Natasha picked this out. She said it needed to be a princess cut, because that's what you like.” 

You chuckled as he went to slide the rock onto your ring finger. “What? You're not going to get down on one knee?” 

The mission went shockingly smooth, you and Bucky were in and out with the needed intel in just a few hours. But those few hours replayed in the back of your mind more often than you care to admit. 

The way his arm stayed wrapped securely around your shoulder or waist the entire hour that you mingled as guests. How he pulled you into a slow dance to discuss the plan for sneaking into the study on an off-limits floor. The musky smell of his aftershave and the spearmint on his breath. 

And especially the way he referred to you as his “bride” when introducing yourselves to people, on more than one occasion throughout the night. 

“And who is this absolutely beautiful young woman on your arm?” an elderly man with eye boogers and booze on his breath asks Bucky. 

“This is my bride,” Bucky introduces you, giving him your undercover name. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? Most beautiful woman here, if I do say so myself.” 

Saying that Bucky played his part well that night would have been an understatement. Saying that he played his part scarily well would be a more accurate assertion. 

After grabbing the intel and fleeing the scene, neither of you ever mentioned that mission again. Not the lingering touches, smoldering stares - not even the way he shoved you up against the wall of a corridor, cupped your face in his large hands, and kissed you senseless for half a minute when you came close to getting caught sneaking into the private office by security at the very end of the evening. 

“Do you think that was believable?” he asks nervously, his hands still clutching your face as he looks around the hallway for any lingering guards. 

“Ye-yeah,” you stutter breathily. “As believable as it possibly could be.” 

There’s a light knock on the partially open bedroom door that draws you back to the reality of the safehouse. You realize that you’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your book for the last half hour. 

"Yeah?” you answer, bringing yourself to a sitting position. 

Bucky peaks his head around the door, opening it further so that you can see what he is carrying. 

“I’m tired of watching old James Bond movies,” he sighs, glancing between you and the stack of board games in his arms. “I found these in the TV stand.” 

“I kicked your ass in Battleship last time we played,” you remind him. “Do you really want a rematch of that?” 

“How about we make a bet?”

— — — — — 

Half an hour later, you've eaten your own words, now owing Bucky a large meat lovers pizza from his favorite parlor in Brooklyn and two weeks worth of laundry duty when you return to the compound. 

“How'd you get so good?” you demand as he makes the winning attack. “You were so lame at this last time.” 

“Maybe I just let you win last time,” he shrugs with a shit-eating grin. 

You just shake your head in defeat, wincing as you stand up from where you had been playing on the shag area rug in the living room. 

“No,” you declare firmly. “No, I don't believe that. There's no way you'd willingly let me win anything. I've learned that the hard way during hand to hand combat training way too many times.”  

Bucky belly laughs from where he still sits on the floor, his gaze trailing after you. 

You walk over to where he has piled the board games on the coffee table, trying to find something you were confident you could win. 

Monopoly isn't fun with only two players, Risk takes too long — 

Your eyes lock onto a card game peeking out from underneath the Sorry! box. 

You pick it up, turning back to face him with a growing smile on your face.

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “I'm over a hundred years old–” 

“What does age have to do with truth or dare?!” You exclaim, sitting back down on the floor once more. 

“I haven't been roped into a game of truth or dare since the 1930's,” he groans. 

“Scared of what you might have to do?” You tease, unboxing the cards. “Or what you might have to admit?” 

He stares at you for a long moment, pursing his lips. The disapproval doesn't quite reach his eyes - you can tell by the way they gleam that he's going to cave. 

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits. He tousles his fingers through his hair and moves to cross his legs at the ankles. “Fine,” he relents. “One game.” 

You squeal like a kid in a candy store as you shuffle the deck of cards and lay them in a stack between you. 

“Elders first,” you motion to the pile. 

He rolls his eyes, drawing one from the top – dare. 

“Smell another player's armpit,” he deadpans. You're instantly thankful that you remembered to cram a stick of deodorant into your backpack when packing for the mission. 

“Well?” You lift up your arm. “I'm the only other player here and it's not going to sniff itself.” 

Bucky sighs, leaning across the game to put his nose directly next to the opening of your t-shirt sleeve. “Lavender,” he observes after inhaling, giving you an approving nod. “As far as dares go, I got lucky.” 

“Lucky that I showered earlier,” you mumble as you draw your turn, your cheeks warming slightly. 

Truth. 

“Who was your last kiss with and what was it like?” 

Your heart plummets to your stomach as you read the words aloud. Bucky waits impatiently as you fiddle with the piece of paper in your hands. 

“Might I remind you, you are the one who wanted to play this game so desp–” 

You hold up a finger and make a shushing sound, silencing him as he grins menacingly. 

“My last kiss was almost two years ago,” you answer honestly, looking back down at the card to avoid his stare. He can always tell when you're lying, why even try? 

“With a man I barely knew,” you continue. “We had to pretend to be in love for the evening. It was a shockingly easy thing to do. When he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me as a distraction to security guards, I had to remind myself that it was an act. We never spoke about it again. But now two years later, I'm telling him that I think of that kiss often.” 

When you finally look up, you can't decipher the look on his face. Long gone is the mischievous grin from just moments ago, in its place is.. shock? Perplexity? 

“And why exactly have you not kissed anyone else since then?” He asks quietly. 

“Nope,” you say, popping your lips on the p. “That's not how the game works, you don't get to add sub-questions.” 

His eyes don't leave yours as he draws his next card.

His turn for truth. He glances down to read his question.

“Have you ever wanted to have sex with any of the players?” 

Forget your cheeks feeling warm - your entire body feels like it's on fire as you wait for him to answer. 

He chuckles, tossing the card on top of the other two that had already been picked. 

“Every goddamn day since I kissed her almost two years ago.” 

You aren't sure which one of you snaps first. You lunge forward at the same moment that he's leaning across the splay of cards to grasp your face in his hands just like he did in that corridor two years ago. The same hint of spearmint on his breath, a bit more stubble on his jaw, and a sense of desperation that wasn't there before. 

He moves his hands to your lower back, pulling you flush against him as you both sit on your knees. Your own hands find the hem of his shirt, your fingers dancing across the skin of his waistline. 

“I asked you why you haven't kissed anyone since we last kissed,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, both of you breathless. “You don't have to answer, but that..” his mouth moves to the side of your throat where he trails open-mouth kisses across the sensitive flesh of your pulse point. 

“That's why I haven't kissed anyone else, either.” 

A pathetic, small moan escapes past your lips at his admission. In a split second decision, you take control. You place your hands across his chest, pushing him down onto the shag rug that you'd been playing games on just moments ago. He lets himself fall back, pulling you with him. 

You straddle him, positioning yourself directly on his already evident erection. You drag yourself forwards, and then backwards, desperate for friction - he groans beneath you, jutting upwards. 

The fabric of your pants between you feels like a prison. 

You scoot back a few inches - just far enough to give yourself enough room to unbutton his jeans. 

“Wait, wait,” he stops you as you're about to begin pulling down his pants and underwear. You freeze, petrified that you've crossed a line– 

“I haven't stopped thinking about having your thighs wrapped around my head since I saw them earlier,” he says as he hooks his hands around them and hauls you up to his chest. “Take these off and sit on my face.” He tugs on the waistline of your leggings. 

“If you wanted me to take my pants off for you so badly, you could have just said so,” you echo his earlier teasing. 

“I'm asking you now, sweetheart,” his voice has a strained edge to it. “Don't make me beg.” 

Though the notion of him begging has wetness pooling down your thighs, you're too eager to entertain it. 

You stand up, directly above him as he keeps his position on the floor. You shimmy your leggings down your thighs, this time completely removing them and tossing them somewhere behind you. He tugs his t-shirt over his head and throws it in the general direction of your discarded pants. 

With you still standing above him, he leans forward so that his face brushes against the inside of your thighs. He brings his hands to the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers and slowly pulling them down until they're at your ankles. 

You slip them off as he lays back down on the floor. A bit apprehensively, you sit so that your bare pussy is against his hard chest. 

“Just stop me if it's too uncomfortable or if you can't breathe or any–” 

He cuts you off by all but picking you up and hauling you up to his face.

“I wouldn't worry about that,” his voice vibrates against the flesh of your innermost thighs. He tugs you down just one more inch so that his mouth makes contact with your center. 

You gasp out in pleasure as his tongue begins exploring your folds. There's no restraint about it - he sets a brutal pace, alternating between fucking his tongue into your cunt and sucking on your clit. 

You're writhing above him, grinding your pussy against his mouth. You go to squeeze your breasts, pulling your t-shirt off when you realize it's the one clothing article you've yet to shed. 

When he realizes that you're now completely naked above him, he lets out an animalistic groan as he laps a thick lick up your center. 

The vibration, in addition to him now squeezing your ass with enough pressure that he's bound to leave behind fingertip shaped bruises, is enough to send you spiraling to your climax. 

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs around his cheeks, riding out your orgasm as he continues to wrap his lips around your throbbing clitoris. 

You go still for a moment, aside from your heaving chest, as you come back down to earth. 

You climb off of him, your jellified legs nearly causing you to collapse onto the floor next to him. 

He props himself up with one arm, looking down at you. His face is thoroughly glistening with your juices. 

You can't help but think he's never looked hotter. 

A proud grin begins to form across his features as you pull him down to you by the back of his neck. 

You kiss him with as much feverency as you can muster in your post orgasm haze, tasting the semi-sweet tang of your come on his lips and tongue. 

“It's your turn to get these off,” you demand, drawing back from the kiss to pull at the waistband of his pants. 

“Can I at least take you to the comfy bed before this goes any further?” he bargains. “You are still recovering from multiple injuries, you know.” 

“I can assure you that I've never felt better.” But you let him have his way. He stands before picking you up, lifting you so that you can wrap your legs securely around his midsection. His large hands planted firmly on your ass, he walks the short distance to the bedroom. Your nipples pebble as they press against his bare chest. 

He gently places you on top of the comforter before standing back, at last removing his jeans and boxers. His cock springs forward, slapping against his lower belly. 

Your mouth goes dry at the sight. If it had been a long time since you had been kissed, it had been even longer since you had been fucked. 

He crawls onto the bed, hovering above where you lay. You automatically open your legs to allow him between them. 

His eyes rake up and down your body, pausing on your breasts. 

"You're goddamn stunning.” 

Before you can respond, he's leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth, the sensation has you arching your back into his touch. You can feel the tip of his cock jutting against your core - teasing but not yet entering. 

He starts to line himself up at your hole, his eyes locking onto yours as he pumps himself in his hand. He brings his lips down to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth at the same moment he nudges his tip past your entrance. 

There's a blissful burn as he cautiously buries himself inside you - you're simultaneously thankful that he's going slow and needing him balls deep. He pushes in, inch by inch, until you're filled to the hilt. When he can't get any deeper, he pulls back - and slams back into you all at once. 

You swear you can feel him in your stomach. You look down at where your bodies connect, the sight of him sliding in and out of you enough to have you on the edge of climaxing again already. 

He brings his metal hand to knead your breast. 

"Do you have any idea how many times I've pictured having you under me like this?” He coos. You gyrate your hips to meet his thrusts, causing his eyes to roll back into his head. 

“How many times I've thought about what your little moans would sound like?” 

Your only answer is a gutteral moan of his name as you wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into the flesh of his back. 

“Your pussy feels even more like heaven than I imagined it would.” 

His praises send you over the edge - you're coming for a second time, clenching around him as his thrusts grow messy. He fucks you through your orgasm before he loses control himself, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he spills into you. 

With you still panting and limp beneath him,  his movements gradually come to a stop but he doesn't pull out - instead he flips you to your side and maneuvers himself into a spooning position behind you. 

He peppers soft kisses along the skin of your shoulder, being careful to avoid your stitches, and relaxes beside you. 

“Remind me to dislocate my knee more often,” you joke, processing everything that just happened. 

He snorts, then tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Remind me to play truth or dare with you more often.” He captures your lips in his, this kiss slower than any of the ones before. 

“I guess it would be weird to make you do my laundry for two weeks now, huh?” He teases, earning a laugh from you.

“You do still owe me a pizza, but I'll be happy to share it with you.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

[rumplereids]

wonderstruck.

part one. tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. tech analyst!reader. early-s1!spencer. a/n: tech analyst!reader won’t leave my little brain. i hope u like this :) masterlist. requests are open !

You were 21 when you got recruited into the bureau. Barely a graduate, and already on a FBI watchlist. Honestly, the only reason you’re under their watchful eyes is because of a lapse in judgment.

To celebrate the semester ending, your roommate decided that you both needed to get drunk. Being a psychology major with a pre-med roommate leads to tequila shots in your own dorm room. It’s the convenience and comfort of your own space that got you so drunk. This situation led to this: you admitting to your roommate, with heavy eyes, that you can “hack, you know. I learned when I was 15.”

She sat up from her place on the floor.

“Really? I don’t believe you!” she giggles, and then hiccups.

“I so can!” there’s indignation and a want to prove yourself in the tone of your voice.

“Okay, show me!”

Shuffling on heavy feet, you plop down in front of your laptop. A few clicks and the comforting clacks of your keyboard, and then a window pops open. You look at the wide-gaped mouth of your roommate. “What are you hacking?”

You hum, “I don’t know.”

And then you remember the talk from a few days ago. Two agents from the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit came over to your college to talk about criminal profiling to psychology majors and anyone else interested.

Completely inebriated, you manage to hack into their database. Your hazy mind doesn’t forget to compliment the beauty and intricacy of the codes and firewalls you broke down.

At Quantico, Virginia, Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia rushes into her unit chief’s office.

“Sir, somebody is attempting to get into my system. I think they’re trying to communicate?”

Hotch follows Garcia into her office, the quickness of their steps catching the attention of Dr. Spencer Reid who was seated at his desk, skimming over a case report.

When Hotch gets into Penelope’s ‘lair’, his eyes squint, adjusting to the dimmed lights and bright screens. On the main monitor, a window displaying the barebones of a text chat is open.

<ATHEN411> ????

<ATHEN411> hiiiiidfgsd

<YOU> Who is this?

<ATHEN411> ohymgofd i didnt think anyonewould alsnwer

<ATHEN411> wh o it sthis?

<YOU> BAU Section Chief Aaron Hotchner.

<ATHEN411> omfdg i know uuu !! jason mentoined u

<YOU> Jason?

<ATHEN411> yhuhh jason digeon or sumn omg i cant tpoye

<ATHEN411> sorry

<YOU> Jason Gideon? How do you know him?

<ATHEN411 disconnected.>

You’ve completely forgotten about the conversation. Until, a few days later. You’re turning the corner of the hallway to get into your dorm. Backpack slung on a shoulder, arms full of your laptop, binders and a soft-bound copy of your final paper. You stop in your tracks when you see two men stationed outside your room’s door.

One man was in a shirt, jeans, and combat boots. He also had sunglasses on. The other had a permanent furrow to his brows, dressed formally in a suit and tie.

“Hi, can I help you?” you ask, hand reaching into your hoodie pocket for your keys and pepper spray.

The one in sunglasses holds up a badge and ID.

“FBI. I’m Agent Morgan, this is Agent Hotchner. Are you Y/N L/N?”

You gulp, wondering why they knew your name.

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“Can we talk somewhere private?”

Your bring out your keys, and you notice how Agent Hotchner eyes the pepper spray keychained to it.

“Um, yeah. We can talk inside? My roommate’s still out.”

You unlock your door and walk in, the agents following in after you. Dropping your bag on your desk chair, you turn to ask the agents, “How can I help you?”

Agent Hotchner asks, “Are you familiar with the name athen-four-one-one?”

You look up at them guilty.

“It’s athena-eleven.”

“So, it’s you?” Agent Morgan clarifies.

“Yes. How did you find me?”

The two men share a glance. A silent conversation passing with you unknowing.

“Two nights ago, you hacked into the BAU’s database.”

You look at them in suprise, “I did?”

“Yes,” Agent Hotchner says, passing a folder to you. Inside are images and a transcript of messages shared between a ‘P.GARCIA’ and ‘ATHEN411’.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, realizing what’s happening.

“I was drunk off my ass two nights ago! I’m so sorry,” that catches Agent Morgan’s attention.

“You were drunk?”

“Yeah, my roommate and I were celebrating our exams. I didn’t… Am I in trouble?”

Agent Hotchner raises a hand in a placating gesture, “You were drunk when you hacked into the bureau’s database?” Confusion and slight amusement evident in the tone of his voice.

“Yeah,” you confess, “It was just a dare! I don’t even remember much of it.”

Agent Morgan looks as if he doesn’t know what to think about the situation. You feel the same. Agent Hotchner extends a hand to get the file back from you, and you give it to him easily.

“Would you go with us back to the station?”

“What? For what? Am I being sued?”

“The opposite. I would like to conduct a proper interview.” Agent Hotchner explains.

“An interview? For what?”

“A job as a technical analyst at Quantico.”

You look at them, eyes furrowing in confusion and disbelief, “What? I can’t!”

“Why not?”

You gesture toward your desk, “I still have a paper to pass!”

Meeting Penelope Garcia was like a dream come true.

“I should have realized! The triple-stacked firewall should’ve been so obvious! The Black Queen signature!”

The blonde’s eyes sparkle, happy to meet a match.

“Athena-Eleven! I didn’t even notice you were in my systems until you sent your first message.”

You feel your chest puff up at the indirect praise.

“You were one of my idols,” you admit, “Your exposé on Griffith Industries was just… stunning! Absolutely flawless. You had a section in your code that I used to build my private server—” Agent Hotchner interrupts your spiel.

He gestures to the rest of the room, where agents were seated at a round table.

“This is Y/N L/N, the unit’s newest technical analyst. ” he says, and you give a shy wave. You get a wave back from the agent wearing glasses. He’s cute. Have you seen him before?

“This is Jennifer Jareau, our communications liaison,” you shake her outstretched hand. She’s so pretty, you start to think, gorgeous blue eyes too.

“You’ve met Derek Morgan,” Agent Hotchner says, and Agent Morgan gives a two finger salute, his hands wrapped around a coffee cup.

“Agent Jason Gideon,” you return his handshake, mumbling a shy; “Hello, sir. Nice to see you again.”

And then, “This is Dr. Spencer Reid—”

“Oh! You were with Agent Gideon at the seminar! You talked a bit about geoprofiling, and how an unsub’s subconscious can’t help but stick close to home, which helps you triangulate the—” Agent Hotchner lets out another soft cough.

“Um, yeah. I did. Nice to meet you,” he gives another small wave, smile close-lipped and awkward. Endearing. He’s really cute. “I don’t really shake hands.”

You nod, “I get that, germs and stuff. It’s actually, weirdly, safer to kiss.”

You don’t see the way JJ and Derek look at each other, nor do you notice when Penelope whispered, “Oh my God, there’s two of them.”

“Your code name, it’s for the Athena, right? The Greek goddess of wisdom, warfare, and handicraft?” Dr. Reid asks you, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Yeah. I love greek mythology.”

He gives you a smile, “I do, as well. I’m wondering about the eleven though. Does it mean anything?”

You tsk’d through your teeth, “The angel number 1111’s often seen as a spiritual wake-up call and awakening. I thought it was fitting, and I was 15 when I chose the name, okay? Excuse little old me.”

“That’s cool,” Dr. Reid admits. If he remembers your file right, you were barely 17 when you became a trademark and known name in underground hacking circles. He can’t properly meet your eyes, struck in awe. Athena. It’s perfect for you.

“Y/N formally starts her job with us in three days,” Hotch informs the team, “Be kind.”

With a final word, Gideon and Hotch start to return to their offices.

Derek straightens from his position on the office chair. “I am very kind!”

“He didn’t say anything about you,” Penelope teases.

“Ooh, that says a lot, Morgan. It says so much,” JJ teases back.

You smile at them, your new co-workers, taking the seat JJ was gesturing at for you. The three continue bickering, you start to tune them out as you make eye contact with Dr. Reid. The apple of his cheeks blush red, and you can’t stop the grin on your lips from getting wider. He’s downright enchanting.

[headkiss]

steady hand

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: probably very inaccurate descriptions of r’s job (it’s for the plot, okay??), shy!reader, a very small injury description, yearning (?), first kiss, fluff !!!

a/n: hiiiii this is my very first hotch fic (gasp) so i hope i did okay!!! i’m excited to be writing for him and i have enjoyed it so far and i hope you will too!!! please please let me know what you think and if you’d want to see more of him from me <33

༄

People are usually impressed when you tell them you work at the BAU.

Which, you won’t lie, is something to be proud of, but their first thought is always that you’re doing something big and solving cases. They ask you if you were there when this case was solved or when that killer was caught.

Then there’s the nodding and dissipation of their excitement when you explain that you work a desk job there. Organize files, write reports, that sort of thing. That is a lot less impressive to most.

You’re no Agent Morgan, or Dr. Reid. Certainly no Agent Hotchner or Prentiss. Instead of being on the field, you spend your time fighting with a printer.

Getting the papers you needed should have been simple, a quick in and out that would have you back hiding behind your desk in minutes. Of course, the universe or something must be against you, because instead, you’ve spent at least twenty minutes trying to figure out what’s wrong.

It isn’t jammed (you’ve checked about five times to be sure) and you’re not educated in printers enough to know how to fix whatever’s going on. You’re just lucky nobody else has needed it yet.

“Come on,” you mutter, trying to pull it away from the wall to get a better look.

You’re sure there’s stress sweat building on your forehead. The last thing you want to do is ask someone for help, to make yourself too visible in this place full of important, intimidating people. You’d rather struggle on your own for now.

You make sure that the thing is plugged in (it is) and then check if it’s jammed. Again.

“Piece of shit,” you’re mumbling at the thing, leaning over it looking for anything out of place.

That’s when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. The sound has you jumping, your knuckles smacking against the wall where your hand had been wedged between it and the printer. You turn around to find Agent Hotchner.

He’d been walking by the printer room when he heard the grumbled curse words. Peeking inside, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find you fussing over the printer. He bit back a chuckle before making his presence known.

You tug your skirt down where it’d ridden up, fiddling with the hem as you try to push down your embarrassment. Of course he’d be the one to see you, in his crisp suit and all. He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely. You swallow and try not to look at his biceps.

“Sorry, sir. The printer doesn’t seem to be, um, printing.”

“I’m assuming that’s why you were fighting with it.”

You fight a wince, “you heard that?”

“Heard what?” He asks, though by the twitch of his lips, you know that he’s well aware of what you’re talking about. He then gestures at the cause of your issues behind you, “it���s not jammed, is it?”

“I don’t think so. It wasn’t when I checked, at least.”

You’re trying not to act as nervous as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever really spoken to Agent Hotchner, save for small ‘hello’s and that one time you apologized for bumping into him. He’s handsome—you’ve always thought so—and, more importantly, he’s basically your boss.

“Let me take a look,” he says, walking over. You step aside, staying out of the way.

“It’s alright,” you start as he looks over it, “I’m sure you have much more important things to do than fix a printer, sir.”

Hotch’s eyes flick over to where you stand, a hand still fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your hair a little messy, your eyes a little wide and worried. You look pretty, he thinks. And sure, he does have things he should be doing instead of trying to fix this printer, but he doesn’t really care.

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.

He looks back to the printer, and he seems pretty convinced about trying to help, so you drop it.

While he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to look at his profile. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched a little in focus. It’s unfair, you think, for him to be smart and brave, and be so good-looking on top of it all.

Like he’d heard your thoughts, felt your gaze, he looks over at you again. You turn your eyes toward the floor quickly.

It’s a couple of minutes before anyone speaks. You, staring at the carpet until your vision goes a little fuzzy. Hotch, pushing buttons and flicking switches trying to figure out whatever was going on with the damn printer.

Then, the sound of the ink swiping over the pages, the papers spitting from the printer. You look over at it, mouth slightly parted. What can’t he do?

The sound of your name has your eyes snapping up to his. It’s yet another surprise, him knowing your name. You’re not that important, in the grand scheme of things at the BAU, in the world, really. Someone meant to stay hidden in the background. And still, he knows your name.

“It should be fine now,” he says, grabbing your papers from the cartridge and handing them to you as he stands up straight. “Let me know if it gives you trouble again.”

You grab the pages from him slowly, still shocked at the whole exchange. Your fingers brush against his as you do. “I- Thank you, sir.”

He nods, moving towards the hall. He pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you. “Hotch is fine.”

“Sorry?”

“You keep calling me ‘sir.’ You don’t have to. Just Hotch is fine.”

“Right. Sorry, sir- I mean, Hotch,” you test it out. “Thank you again.”

Yes, Hotch thinks, he likes you saying his name a whole lot more. He sends you a kind smile, “no problem.”

Hotch walks away, probably towards his office where he has very important things to do. Stuff that was surely delayed because he paused to help you. You stare at the doorway for a minute, until you give yourself a papercut and look down at it.

Aaron Hotchner knows who you are.

-

You’re two shitty coffees deep so far, your report open on your desk, the typing bar blinking on the screen of your computer.

There’s pages to go, though you’re not sure how many. You’ve been doing the sort of mindless, robot typing you do when you’re tired. When you’re preoccupied with trying not to glance in the direction of Hotch’s office.

The team got back sometime last night, long after you’d already gone home. From somewhere in Indiana, you think. You’re not sure how they do it, flying about and still coming into the office. You’re tired and you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been on a plane. Add the crime fighting and you’d be a goner.

Blinking yourself from your thoughts, you look back at the blank pages spread out in front of you. It’s not unusual for you to be missing pieces that you need to complete things, it’s just inconvenient. You always end up having to ask someone for the files you need, and then you feel like a burden.

It’s stupid, but in a place full of important people, it’s easy to feel like you’re just in the way.

Anyway, it’s your job, so you push away from your desk and stand, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Your first thought is to go to Reid. As far as friendship goes, you’d consider yourself closest to that definition with him. He’s also the least intimidating of the bunch, probably because you see the most of yourself in him.

You find him in the kitchen with Agent Jareau, both holding their own mugs, probably filled with the same coffee as the one that sits on your desk. You knock gently on the door even though it’s open.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if either of you have the files from that case you worked a couple weeks back. The one in Ohio,” you shuffle on your feet under their gaze. “I need them for this report.”

“Hey,” Reid speaks first, smiling kindly, “I don’t remember keeping them, but I can double check in my desk if you would like.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure I’ll find them somewhere.”

You’re about to head out the door when Agent Jareau stops you, “wait, I’m pretty sure Hotch has them. I can go ask him for you.”

It’s silly to feel nervous talking to them, especially when nobody’s ever been anything but nice to you. A little bit of the twist in your gut comes undone.

“No, no. I’ll go ask him if he isn’t busy, thank you though.”

“You should be fine, the door’s open,” she tells you.

You nod, sending the both of them a smile you hope doesn’t look awkward. “Thanks again.”

Their voices picking up their conversation follow you out the door. You cross the space, saying small ‘hello’s to Agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss when they greet you. You try to ignore the prickle of eyes on you as you climb the steps and head to Hotch’s office.

His jacket is draped across the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up on his forearms. It’s probably the most disheveled you’ve ever seen him, and he’s only missing a single layer. You look away from his arms when he says your name.

Hotch had his head bent, looking over a case when he’d heard footsteps, and he’d been glad to find you standing in his doorway. You work in the same place, yet he barely sees you. That’s probably why something lightens in his chest every time he does. The rarity, that’s all.

“Is this a bad time?” You ask.

“Not at all,” he leans back in his chair, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m really sorry to bother you, sir-”

“Hotch,” he reminds gently. His voice is easy, a hum that you think would sound good no matter what he was saying.

“Right, sorry. Hotch. I was just looking for some files that I need from a case you guys had for this report.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

Then, he smiles in that way that Aaron Hotchner so often does. A small twitch of his lips, a lift in the corners. One that you probably wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t paying so much attention. One that feels sort of like a gift.

You shake your head at yourself and elaborate, “the Ohio case. Three weeks ago, I think. I asked Agent Jareau, but she said you had them, so…”

Hotch wants to reassure you, but he’s not sure how to do it without standing up and letting himself grab your hand and squeeze it the way he’d like. And he can’t do that, not when you’re already nervous. Not when he’s not sure he could hold back after one touch.

“It’s no problem,” he opens one of his drawers, flips through folders until he finds what you’re looking for.

He stands up and walks around his desk until he’s in front of you, and he lets his gaze flick over your face while he has the chance. Your eyes find his easily, and you hope he can’t hear the catch in your breath.

Aaron isn’t usually so quiet with his affections, but that’s because he’s never found himself feeling this way at work. He wishes your desk was on his way to his office, just so he’d have an excuse to stop and talk to you. He makes sure never to use your favorite mug from the cupboard, just so you’ll be more likely to have it.

Hotch clears his throat, “here they are.”

He holds up the folder between you, his hand holding it loosely, the other hanging by his side. His fingers twitch.

You’re embarrassingly distracted by his exposed forearms, eyes trailing from his hand to the skin of his arm, to the way his shirt is tight where the sleeves are rolled. Then, it’s the color of his tie today, the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows.

His hand reaching for yours is enough to erase everything else. He lifts it and places the folder in your hold for you. Your skin burns even when he pulls away.

“You alright?” He asks. Probably because you’d been staring at him like a weirdo.

Get it together.

“Yeah. Yes, sorry. Just sort of spacey today, I guess.”

When you look back to his face, there’s nothing but a sort of softness in his eyes you can’t identify. He smiles at you, and for the second time, you feel like you’ve won something.

“Is that what you needed?” He asks.

You open the folder and peek inside. You find exactly what you’d been looking for, not that you’re surprised. Hotch knew what you’d meant and you didn’t doubt that.

“It is. Thank you, Hotch,” you grin lightly when you get that part right. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way.”

Hotch says the words like he’d known you needed to hear them, like he’d known what runs through your mind so often, like he can read you. He probably can, you think. He is a profiler after all.

Still, the words make your heart do a stupid little jump.

“I’ll bring them back when I’m done,” you say.

“No rush. They’ll just be going back in the drawer anyway.”

“Well, thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, really.”

Hotch watches you walk back to your desk with your head down. Looking at the folder in your hand, he thinks, at least it’s an excuse for you to come see him again.

-

Hotch isn’t in his office when you return the files.

Since you can’t thank him in person—assuming he’s off with the team somewhere saving lives—you leave a sticky note on top of the folder. You drop it on his desk and leave before you second-guess yourself and rip the note off.

You can’t help but think that the office feels sort of empty without the team there. Without Hotch there. It’s how it is most days, so you’re not sure why the absence feels so present now. You shake it off.

The day passes by, then your drive home, and the rest of your night, too. Through it all, you can’t stop wondering what Hotch is doing, wherever he is. Hoping he’s safe.

You’re certainly not expecting to see him the next day, back so soon, but you can’t say you’re upset about it. It’s a brief glance, him walking into his office, the rest of the team and their chatter following, but it’s enough to make your work seem less tiring for some reason.

It was a quick case, and Aaron was glad to at least get a couple of hours of sleep in before coming into the office. When he sits at his desk, the first thing he notices is the folder you’ve left there. The small note in your handwriting.

‘Thank you :)’

He peels the note away and folds it up. Without thinking, it ends up tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s a simple piece of paper, but it’s heavy where it sits. He rubs a hand over the pocket where the note is and gets to work.

It’s not until a couple of hours later that Hotch ends up leaving his office. Conveniently, in the direction of your desk.

You’ve been burying yourself in your work, your leg bouncing nonstop, your nose inches away from the pages on your desk, your chair pushed in as close as it’ll go. You have to, because if you take a break, if you look away, your eyes will search for Hotch, and you don’t really want to think about what that means right now.

About the ache in your chest when he’s gone, the urge to go ask him a stupid question just to talk to him. It’s awful.

The pen you’re using suddenly runs out of ink, and it makes you pause long enough to feel a cramp in your hand. You sit up and huff, pulling your drawer open and digging around for another pen. Your name in Hotch’s voice has you shutting the drawer and spinning quickly.

It’s just your luck that your shirt gets caught, that the sound of the rip is too loud to play off or ignore.

“Oh gosh,” you whisper, looking down at the damage.

It’s a cheap shirt, you shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s worse than you’d expected. This is what you get for sitting so damn close. The side seam is split, and if you move too much, your bra would probably be visible.

“This is so embarrassing,” you say, holding the rip shut with one hand and holding the other on your forehead. Of course this would happen to you in front of him.

Aaron’s eyes hover where your skin had been exposed, even now that you hold your shirt shut, wondering if it’d feel as soft as it looks. He can’t even remember what he came over to do or say.

He swallows and looks at your face, “do you have another?”

You shake your head, still hiding behind your hand, “no. I really, really wish I did, though.”

“I have an extra one in my go bag. If you’d like?” He hears himself say the words, and he doesn’t regret them, necessarily, but it’s clear to him that you mess with his brain. He doesn’t think straight where you’re involved.

You peek up at him, dropping your hand to your side. “Are you sure? I could probably just use some paper clips, or something.”

“Nonsense. I’ll go get it, okay? I’ll bring it to the bathroom so you can change.”

“You don’t have to-”

Your name leaves his mouth again, gentle but firm. “I’ll grab it.”

“Okay.”

You speed-walk over to the washroom and walk in, closing the door only to block out the rest of the office, who surely noticed what just happened. You’re probably never gonna live this down.

Your overthinking doesn’t get very far, because after only a minute, Hotch is knocking on the door.

“It’s just me,” he says. ‘Just,’ like that word could ever be used to describe him. “You can just open the door a crack and I’ll pass the shirt through.”

You do as he says, tugging the door open until you can see a white dress shirt (of course) in his hand. You reach out and he hands it to you easily.

“Thank you, Hotch. I’ll wash it and give it back, I promise. Sorry for this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I mean it.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, closing the door.

His shirt is wrinkled from being packed in his bag, and the sleeves are long when you put it on, but it smells like him and isn’t ripped so you really can’t complain. You roll the sleeves and tuck the bottom into your pants, looking in the mirror to make sure you look at least a little bit put together.

Holy shit, you think. I’m wearing Aaron Hotchner’s shirt. What world have you been living in recently? To be interacting with him more often, to be feeling this sick skip in your heartbeat whenever you do.

You toss your ripped shirt in the garbage, look up, and huff out a breath before leaving the bathroom. You’re surprised to see Hotch still standing there.

“Oh,” you nearly bump into his chest when you walk out the door, but the warmth of his hand on your shoulder steadies you. “I didn’t know you were still there, sorry.”

“You don’t need to say sorry so much, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You’re dreaming, surely. You pinch yourself on the inside of your arm, just in case. You don’t wake up.

“I- um,” you’re fumbling for words because he’s standing there, looking at you softly, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that voice of his.

Aaron doesn’t know where that came from, but he’s said it and it’s happened. With the way he thinks about you, how often he does, he can’t really be surprised. Besides, seeing you get flustered because of him is absolutely worth it.

“I wanted to thank you for getting those files back to me so quickly.”

Your eyes flick over to his arm, and it’s then he realizes that his hand is still on your shoulder. He pulls it away and stuffs it in his pocket. He’s probably imagining it, but he swears his palm is tingling.

You wipe your hands over your thighs, “right. It was no problem, really. I was mostly done with my report, so… Thanks for giving them to me.”

“I’m glad to be able to help,” he says. Then he walks back to his office.

You’re standing in front of the bathroom for what’s surely an odd amount of time. Even back at your desk, you can’t shake the haze you feel, a pink tint to your vision, a flutter in your gut.

You spend the rest of your day with your nose buried in the collar of Hotch’s shirt, avoiding the gazes of your coworkers around you.

Aaron spends the rest of the day thinking about how you looked in his shirt. About how you’d look in it and nothing else. He drags a hand over his face when that pops into his head.

“You good, boss?” Morgan asks from the doorway.

“I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss the knowing smirk on Morgan’s face.

-

It’s very rare that Aaron leaves work at a reasonable time. So rare that he can’t remember the last time he wasn’t the last person there.

He’s used to the late nights, the empty spaces, deserted desks. Even so, it’s nice to finish up earlier than he’d expected. He looks forward to the extra sleep he’ll get, the longer time frame to decompress.

Leaving work early already felt like a small victory for the day, and he feels like he’s won something bigger when he sees you in your car, still in the parking lot.

You’d left maybe twenty minutes before Hotch, though you’d assumed he’d be leaving hours after you like he usually does. Everything was fine, normal as you bid your goodbyes to your desk neighbors, as you rode the elevator down.

The sun has started setting, and the air gets cooler as it sinks. You fish your car keys from your bag and unlock it, getting in quickly and tossing your bag onto the passenger seat.

You like your job, sometimes you love it, even, but you look forward to going home either way. You think about the warm shower you’ll take, the shitty dinner you’ll end up eating. Your lonely plans are ruined as you twist your car key in the ignition, it sputters and doesn’t start.

“No, no. Come on,” your head falls back, you huff and take the key out.

You try again, and still, no luck. And again, and once more until you’re fed up with it and drop the keys in your lap. Your head is dropped against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a moment of dramatics from your defeat.

A knock on your window startles you upright. Your heart races for reasons other than fear when you look at who it is.

Hotch stands outside, leaning towards your window with a scrunch in his brows. When he catches your eye, he steps back from your door and gives you room to open it and step out.

You shut your car door behind you and lean your back against it, “hi.”

“Hi. Sorry to scare you, but I wanted to check that you were alright?”

“It’s okay,” your arms are folded behind your back, your hands twisting. “Um, it’s nothing, just some car troubles.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I guess not. It won’t start for some reason. I don’t know.” If he wasn’t standing right there, you’d probably smack yourself for how unsure you sound. “You keep catching me at the worst times, Hotch.”

He disagrees. Aaron can’t think of a time where seeing you could ever be a bad thing.

“You’re fine,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, “trust me.”

Despite the bite of the wind outside, the way he speaks warms you. He’s so honest in the way he speaks, in the sense that he sounds sure, even if it isn’t necessarily vulnerable. You don’t know how he does it.

A small smile spreads on your face before you can stop it, “okay, good. And thank you for checking on me. I’ll just call a cab and figure this out tomorrow.”

There’s no way he can let you take a cab. It’s obvious that with what he does, the things he sees, he’d rather know for sure you’d be safe getting home. But then, there’s the sort of floating feeling he has when he’s around you, one he’d like to feel for a little longer if he could.

“Let me drive you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. I’ll be fine.”

He ducks his head a little, catches your eye and holds you with that soft gaze of his. “Please, it’s not a problem. For my peace of mind.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, really. You’d much rather sit in a car that probably smells like him than in the back of a cab that smells like sweat.

“For your peace of mind, then. That’d be great.”

You grab your bag from your car before following Aaron to his, where he opens the passenger door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before shutting it. He jogs around the front of his car and gets in.

“Where am I taking you?” He asks, starting his car. The radio hums softly through the speakers, and Hotch reaches over to turn on the heating when he catches you shivering a little.

You tell him your address, “you don’t have to drive me if it’s out of your way, Hotch. I mean it.”

“It isn’t out of my way,” he assures you, and he could easily be lying, but you accept it anyway.

It’s quiet for a little bit, besides the odd question from Aaron for which way to turn. You take the chance to look at him as he drives, his hands on the wheel, the street lights hitting his face. Your head lulls against the seat.

“You’re finished earlier than usual today,” you say. “Not that I know your schedule, or anything, I just-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, a smile spreading. It’s wider than what you’ve seen at work, unguarded enough to show his teeth. It’s really pretty. “It’s alright. It’s work I can be doing at home.”

“That’s good. A change of scenery, at least.”

“Exactly.”

You’re not sure what it is that feels different now, in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s only you and him, no prying eyes in the office, no concerns about what this is, what’s allowed. It might only be you, that feels this sort of spark with him, fizzing i’m the air between you. Either way, you’ll soak it up for the duration of the ride to yours.

Maybe that’s why you’re saying, “you know, I always thought you didn’t even know who I was. Until the printer thing.”

Aaron peeks over at you, leaned in his passenger seat. You look like you belong there, like there’s always been a spot for you in his life. Even when you’d started at the BAU, when he first saw you, he felt like it was right that you were there.

Hell, he’d asked Garcia who you were and has had your name in the back of his head since.

“I’ve always liked you,” he admits. He doesn’t say he’s always known you. Liked.

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. Someone like him even noticing you seemed unfathomable. But liking you? He’s gotta be lying.

“Really. Even when you were bumping into me.”

“You remember that?”

“Yeah, I do. You were looking down at the ground, walking like you were being timed. And you had on this light pink sweater.”

Your eyes go wide, focused on his face. You had been wearing a light pink sweater that day. And he remembers all of that? You think, if you looked at yourself in the mirror right now, your eyes would be in the shape of hearts, pulsing in your pupils.

“I can’t believe you noticed all of that.”

“I notice a lot of things,” he says.

Aaron has always had his guard up around new people, has always made himself more serious at work than anywhere else. Then you came along and he had to fight to keep things that way. It makes sense that the minute he sees you outside of work his walls would crumble to dust.

It was inevitable, really.

“I’ve always liked you, too.” Then, before he can say anything, you point at your building, “it’s this one here.”

The car rolls to a stop slowly, his turn signal flashing as he pulls over by the entrance of your apartment building. He puts the car in park and turns to you fully.

“Thank you for driving me.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out before he can really think about it, fingertips featherlight over your cheekbone, sliding over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then, like it was never there, he pulls back. There’s a glow in his fingers where they’d brushed your skin, golden.

It matches the one you feel on your cheek, sparkling.

“Get in safe, okay?”

“It’s a few feet from here to the front door, Hotch. I’ll be alright.”

He huffs softly, twin smiles on your faces. Lovesick and shy, nervous and pink-hazed all at once.

“For my peace of mind,” he says.

“Fine, then. Your peace of mind,” you reach for the door handle, tugging it and pushing the door open. You look at Hotch again, like you can’t get yourself to stop. “Thanks again.”

“See you, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

You step out and head to your door, turning around before walking inside to give him a wave. Aaron grins and waves back, watching you walk inside.

He stays parked by the curb until he sees a light flick on a couple of floors up.

-

+1

There’s a reason that Hotch is Unit Chief. He thinks quickly, keeps his head straight even with what he deals with every day. There’s also a reason his leadership has been questioned before, but never revoked.

He can be reckless, throwing himself into situations when he knows he probably should’ve waited for backup. This time, it only got him a split eyebrow and a few stitches. It’s been worse; this is nothing.

It is, however, proving to be an inconvenience. He’d gotten stitched up in the ER of whatever hospital was closest to where the team had caught their unsub. It had to be quick, from the hospital straight to the jet.

They’d told him to clean it up again and put a new bandage on it when he got back, which is what he’s trying to do now, in his office, with his laptop’s grainy camera as a mirror. He has the supplies the hospital gave him on his desk, but he can’t really see what he’s doing, and the task is taking much longer than he’d like.

His hands are a little shaky from the adrenaline of his day, and every time his arm comes up to reach his stitches, it blocks his view.

Then, he sees you walking up to his office.

Usually, you’d already be home by now, but you’d been yourself and messed up some of your paperwork, so you had to stay late to re-do it. When you catch sight of Hotch in his office, you’re not so annoyed with yourself.

You notice the things on his desk, the blood on the front of his shirt. Your feet carry you to his doorway easily. Last time you’d really spoken to him was that night in his car, and ever since, there’s been something boiling, a noticeable shift.

You tap your knuckles on his open door twice, “you okay?”

He gives up on dealing with his cut and looks at you instead, the slightly rumpled state of your clothes from a long day, the smile you wear that doesn’t exactly hide the concern in your eyes, the light from the hallway a halo around you. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m alright. Just can't seem to do this right,” he says, gesturing to his eyebrow.

“Do you need help?”

Aaron has never been one to accept help easily, always one to do things on his own. But, when you’re offering so sweetly, when your help means your hands on his skin, how could he ever say no?

“That would be great.”

He pushes his chair back to give you room to stand in front of him. Your legs between his, leaning against the edge of his desk. His knees bump into the sides of your legs, little bursts of the kind of warmth sunlight emits on skin.

You reach for the wipes first, holding them in one hand and reaching up to his eyebrow, the other grasping his chin gently to keep his head steady.

His hand reaches up to hold your elbow. It could so easily be innocent, be almost nothing, but it feels like more. His thumb running back and forth, your face close enough to his to have your breaths mingling. It really feels like more.

“You’re here late,” he says, low and quiet.

“Spilled coffee all over my work. Had to start over. Can you believe it?” You speak just as quietly, eyes flicking from his cut down to his, just for a second.

“I can, actually. You’re sort of clumsy.”

“Hey!” He’s right, of course, but the warm chuckle he lets out is worth your dramatic gasp.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he assures you, squeezing your elbow. “I think it’s cute.”

“Well, thank you, then.”

You set the wipe aside and reach for the bandage next, placing it over his eyebrow and smoothing down the edges with a light touch. When you’re done, you pull back but don’t go far. Your hands fall from his face to grasp the edge of his desk instead.

“All done,” you say.

Aaron’s hands have shifted to your waist. His touch is so delicate, but you’d never ignore it. It might as well be bruising, the way his hands affect you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Hotch.”

Now would be the time to walk out the door, to say ‘goodnight’ and head home, but you’re in no hurry. Not when his eyes are shining in the dimmed light of his office, soft and practically melting.

They seem to beckon you closer, and though you don’t have a reason this time, your face ends up near his, noses almost touching. It’s as far as you go, afraid you’re misreading things, afraid you’ll be wrong about this.

Hotch closes the space for you.

His chin tilts up, his mouth catching yours softly at first. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips slightly chapped and completely perfect against yours.

You think your knees might buckle, so you put your hands on his shoulders, thumbs digging into his skin, like you’re trying to make sure he’s real. You’re not sure how you manage to kiss him back but you do, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes when you push back.

The kiss doesn’t deepen, but it doesn’t have to. You can feel plenty in it already.

It’s not long before Hotch pulls away, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head to look up at you. He removes one of your hands from his shoulder and holds it in his.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” he says, his thumb running over your knuckles.

You look down at your feet, at his legs next to yours. The hand still on his shoulder falls to your side, suddenly feeling nervous.

“You’re right, I’m so-”

“But,” he stops your apology before you can say it. As if you’d ever need to apologize for kissing him. “I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. If you’d want that.”

You look back at his face, eyes searching. He smiles so softly at you, it’s the kind of smile you could only ever give someone you like in this way. Someone you like enough to kiss.

“I’d really like that, Hotch.”

“Good,” he stands, but his hands don’t leave you. “And sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Call me Aaron.”

When you test it out, he’s sure of it; his name on your lips is his absolute favorite sound.

༄

thank you so much for reading!!! please please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, it helps a whole bunch more than you’d think and would mean a lot!! <3

[juniperskye]

Let’s start over.

Sneak peek: Aaron and Reader were together back when she was finishing her bachelor’s degree. It went on for a bit until Aaron started to pull away – after confronting him, you called things off. Years later you return to Quantico to streamline the new child crimes unit which will work directly with the BAU. Aaron is surprised to see you and asks you to dinner…some shocking secrets are revealed. (There are timeline edits to this story to fit my vision okay?!)

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5301

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, keeping a child a secret, Hotch not being the best partner (past), description of BAU and other FBI units – some canon typical subject matter, OC’s Nora (child) Theo and Leila (agents), mention of hospitals, and mention of febrile seizure, mention of Jack, mention of Haley (their relationship timeline was adjusted to make this work – they separated when Jack was like 2-3 y/o) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

** 5 Years Ago, **

“Aaron would you please just tell me what’s going on!” You pleaded.

“Nothing. I told you to just drop it. Nothing is wrong.” Aaron snapped.

Things had been like this for the past few weeks. Aaron was being short with you, snippy about menial things that had never bothered him before. You couldn’t figure out what was going on, it had truly begun to weigh heavily on your relationship.

“We both know that’s bullshit. Why won’t you just talk to me?” You were practically begging him at this point.

“Jesus Christ, would you just let it the fuck go. I said I don’t want to talk. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” Aaron shouted. “Maybe Dave was right.” He mumbled.

“Right about what?” Your voice came out much smaller than intended.

“Maybe you’re too young, too immature. You just don’t understand the stress I’m under.” Aaron huffed out a sigh.

Aaron and you had been together for nearly two years. Initially it had been more of a fling due to the fact that he was teaching a course you were taking to complete your bachelor’s degree. He and you took things to the next level once you’d graduated and now you were about to complete your master’s degree. You loved Aaron, but with how things had been going for the last few months, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was enough.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You whispered.

“So what?  We get in a little fight and you’re going to throw a tantrum?” Aaron spat pure venom.

“A tantrum?” You said, exasperated. “Aaron I’m not a toddler kicking and screaming because I am not getting my way. I’m a grown ass woman asking for some healthy communication in our relationship. We haven’t had a real conversation in months, and I don’t think I can go on like this.” You gasped, the realization finally hitting you…this had to end.

“Sweetheart, we can work this out. I’m sorry okay?” Aaron reached for you.

“No…” You took a retreating step, your back making contact with the back of your sofa. “I think it’s too late Aaron. And honestly it’s rich that you called me immature, when you are so emotionally stunted. You refuse to act your own age and talk things through. Instead, you bottle things up and push away anyone who cares about you. I won’t be your punching bag anymore, I have too much respect for myself.” Your tears had finally broken free, trailing down your cheeks clouded with black from your mascara.

“So that’s it then? We’re done?” Aaron scoffed.

“I guess that’s it.” You gasped.

With that, Aaron grabbed his bag and left. Pausing for a second, before shaking his head and making his leave. The moment you heard the lock click, your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor as sobs ripped through your body. You laid there for what felt like days, broken and devastated by the loss of what you presumed was your forever. He was gone and you’d have to move on, something you weren’t sure was possible in that moment.

** Present Day **

“Hello? … This is she … Oh! Director Cruz … yes I am getting everything ready. … I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, truly. … Of course, thank you. … Alright, I will see you Monday. … Thank you … Bye.” You were practically buzzing as you hung up the phone.

“Was that bossman?” Hestia questioned.

“Yes it was! He was checking in and making sure I have everything I need before I start on Monday!” You gushed.

“I can’t believe you are moving back to Virginia. I am going to miss you so, so much!” Hestia whined.

“I am going to miss you too! But it’ll only be like a month until you join me…right?” You inquired.

“Yes! My lease is up then and as long as you’re still cool with us staying with you guys until we find our own place, we will be there!” She explained.

“Ummm of course you guys can stay with us! Free childcare…I’d be an idiot to pass that up!” You laughed as Hestia threw a pillow at you.

You were actively packing up your life and preparing to move back to Virginia. You hadn’t been back there in nearly five years. After breaking things off with Aaron and completing your master’s degree, you’d looked into PhD programs around the U.S. and had ultimately decided on the child psychology program at Colombia University, and while New York wasn’t too far from Virgina, it at least put space between you and Aaron. 

About eight months after you and Aaron had broken things off, Nora had come as quite a surprise. Despite the shock that was brought on by your pregnancy, Nora had become the greatest gift you could’ve asked for. Having Hestia around to make up for your lack in baby daddy had brought the two of you incredibly close together.

You had met Hestia in a pretty unconventional way, she was one year into her residency for general surgery, and you had appendicitis. So, she worked hand-in-hand with the surgeon who removed your appendix, and well, the rest had been history. She’s been with you through everything in the last four years, most importantly, she’s helped you raise Nora. You’d been sure to repay the favor, especially within the last year…Hestia’s mom had passed, leaving her 15-year-old sister in her care. The four of you had become your own little family.

“So, what’s your plan tomorrow?” Hestia asked.

“Oh, my parents flew in last week and they drove most of my stuff down on Tuesday. My mom said she wanted it to be set up for us, so we’d be able to move right in, especially since I start work immediately. So, I am just getting the last few things together today and we will head down tomorrow, and I guess we will finish getting everything set up this weekend. They’re staying with me, pretty much until you and Selene can come out. They don’t want me to have to put Nora in daycare.” You explained.

“Aw, I’m so glad they’re able to do that! I know by then you’ll be ready to have them out of your hair, but it is nice that you won’t have to leave her with strangers right away.” Hestia patted your leg. “I do have a question for you though…are you at all worried about running into your ex?”

“I don’t even know if he still works there Hes, it’s a huge place. Who’s to say we even see each other at all?” You shrug.

“You are so full of shit!” Hestia laughs. “Don’t act like you didn’t check to see if he’s still there.”

“Ugh! Yes he’s still the unit chief of the BAU! Of course I looked. And yes. I am terrified, Director Cruz said my unit will most likely work with the BAU more than any other team and I’m not sure I can handle that.” You groaned.

“You can’t avoid him forever babe. Are you going to tell him about Nora?”

“Hes, I don’t even know how I would begin to tell him.” You shook your head. “We ended horribly and she’s four now. What if he freaks out?”

“I mean he might. Hon, you have to tell him, she’s his daughter you know… I don’t think there’s an easy way to do it. Like it’s gonna be ugly no matter what. But at least you’re telling him.” Hestia reasons.

You knew she was right, you had to tell Aaron about Nora, but honestly it could wait. You had an entire unit to run, and you couldn’t let your fear of seeing him and having that conversation distract you from the important work you’d be doing.

Monday came far too quickly. Your parents had been a huge help, and the house was almost completely unpacked. Nora had settled in well with them being there with you both, and you were incredibly grateful to them for supporting you.

You had gotten up early to make breakfast and eat with Nora before heading into the office. When you walked into the FBI building, you made your way to the front desk to get your ID and then headed to the director’s office.

“Welcome! We are so glad to have you and your team joining us at the FBI. Child crimes is something that has needed an official unit for far too long, I am just happy to have you leading it.” Director Cruz greeted you.

“Thank you Director, it is truly an honor to have been asked to lead this team. From my understanding, Theo and Leila will be here tomorrow to begin officially.”

“That’s correct. I want to go over some logistics with you before I show you to your office. As of right now your team will just be the three of you, if we see a need to expand, we will. I am going to assign you and your agents each a specific unit for if you are needed in more than one place. You will be the point person for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and the Sex Crimes Unit, Leila will take point with Violent Crimes and Theo will take point with Cybercrimes. I anticipate that your team will work closest with the BAU and SCU.” Director Cruz explained.

“That all sounds good sir. Are the Unit Chiefs of these departments all aware of our arrival? I just want to ensure they will be prepared to work with us and that there won’t be too much pushback.” You posed.

“I understand. Yes, they have all been informed of your team’s arrival and I have made it very clear that their cooperation is nonnegotiable. At the end of the day, we all have the same goal, so hopefully there will be very little pushback from our agents.” Director Cruz reassured you. “Are you ready to see your office now?”

“Yes sir, thank you.”

Stepping off the elevator onto the sixth floor, you immediately took note of the directory sign listing that the BAU was housed on this floor. It made your stomach churn, knowing that you would most definitely see Aaron every day… not to mention in like the next few minutes.

“Okay so, through this door here is where the BAU is, as I mentioned before. There are two open desks down in the bullpen there for Theo and Leila, and your office is just there. You will be between agents Hotchner and Rossi.” Director Cruz noted as you entered your office. “I’d like to introduce you to agent Hotchner before I let you settle in; I think it is important given how frequently you’ll be working together.”

“Of course, sir.” You nodded.

The ten steps it took to get from your office to his felt like an eternity. You felt sick knowing that you’d have to face the man that had broken you all those years ago. You may have ended things with him officially, but he had truly ended it when he decided that you weren’t worthy of communicating with. At this point you were just hoping that he’d grown up in that area, because you really needed him to take the news of Nora well.

“Agent Hotchner, I have the new child crimes unit chief here for you to meet.” And before Director Cruz could give Aaron your name, it escaped his own lips, framed by his shocked expression. “Oh, you two know each other?”

“Agent Hotchner was a guest lecturer for one of my undergrad courses. He was my inspiration for entering this field.” You supplied.

It wasn’t a total lie…

“Yes, she was a bright student. I’m not surprised to see that she made it to the FBI.” Aaron added.

“Alright then, I will leave you to catch up then.” With that, the Director made his way back to his office.

“How um…how are you?” Aaron inquired.

“I’m well Aaron. I don’t really think anymore small talk is necessary. I should go get settled into my office.” You huffed out a breath before exiting the room.

You made sure to take your time getting settled. Placing some personal things out on your desk and shelves. You had a few plants, some of your favorite pens, some file folders, you hung up your degrees, you organized your psychology books on the shelves along with some law books, and the last, most important detail was a framed photo of you and Nora that you sat next to your lamp.

The day had sped by as you made yourself comfortable on the couch in your office while reading through some emails from other units and some case files of theirs from previous cases to see how they typically ran things. You had been trekking along just fine until a quite knock broke your concentration. Looking up, you weren’t entirely surprised to see it was Aaron standing there.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. It’s almost eight.” Aaron informed you.

“Oh shit! I didn’t even realize!” You scrambled to check your phone.

“I know that you said small talk wasn’t necessary, and I agree. I would however really like to take you to dinner to catch up, and maybe I can explain some things.” Aaron requested.

“Oh, I um. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…I uh-”

“Please. I really need to explain myself, for how awful I was back then. No excuses, just maybe it’ll help you see my point of view. I’ve worked on myself a lot since then.” Aaron pleaded.

“I have to make a call first.” You conceded.

“Of course. I’ll give you some privacy.” He exited your office.

You quickly called your mom, letting her know that you were going to dinner with a coworker, asking her to take care of the remainder of Nora’s bedtime routine. You also had to inform her you wouldn’t need to be picked up. After which you spoke to Nora wishing her a good night and giving her a kiss through the phone. You then gathered your belongings and met Aaron in the bullpen.

“So, I don’t have my car. My parents are in town, they helped me move, so I left my car with them.” You explained sheepishly.

“No worries, if you’re comfortable with it, I can drive us. I can take you home after as well.” Aaron offered.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.” You offered a gentle smile.

Aaron gestured you to the elevator and you made your way down to the parking garage. Aaron, ever the gentleman made sure to open the car door for you, both in the garage and again at the restaurant. There was a tinge of sadness that flooded your mind as you noticed where Aaron took you.

It had been your go to for date nights back when you were together. It was a recommendation from Dave – who you couldn’t help but feel a bit of resentment toward given the “too young” comment. You wondered if Aaron brought you here on purpose, and he must’ve picked up on your thought.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I drove us here. I guess it was muscle memory.” He shook his head.

“It’s okay. I’ve missed the food honestly.” You let out a little chuckle.

“I have too. I uh, I haven’t been here since we ended.” Aaron’s voice trailed off toward the end of his statement.

You were relieved that the night hadn’t been filled with awkward silence. It had, however, been a lot of catching up while Aaron avoided the main reason he brought you here and you avoided talking about Nora. You were both saved by the waiter when he came by to get your order.

“Would you like to see the wine list?”

“No thank you. I’ll just have water.” You were quick to answer.

“Water is fine for me also.” Aaron added.

“Are you ready to order your entrees then?”

“I will have the Mezzi Rigatoni, and she will have the Ricotta Cavatelli.” Aaron declared.

The waiter nodded and walked off. You couldn’t help but look at Aaron with a bit of shock. It is what you always ordered, so you couldn’t be mad, but it felt foreign and all too familiar at the same time. He always ordered for you when you used to go out, he used to know you better than you knew yourself…but that was then.

“I’m so sorry – I don’t know why I did that” Aaron was quick to apologize “Maybe coming here was a bad idea. It’s all too familiar.”

“It’s okay Aaron. I was going to order it anyway. Maybe we should talk about why we’re here.” You suggested.

“Of course. I want to explicitly state that I am not trying to make excuses for how I acted then, because I know I was horrible to you in the end. I do just want to give you some insight as to what I was going through at that time. I really want to communicate now what I didn’t then.” He began.

You nodded for him to continue as the waiter brought your food and drinks.  

“So, you know that Haley and I divorced before you and I got together officially. Well once you and I became serious and my time was either spent at work or with you and Jack, Haley didn’t seem to like that. She uh, she tried to fight me for primary custody of Jack.” Aaron explained.

“What? Aaron why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly, because I knew you’d take a step back in our relationship. I knew that with how selfless you are, you’d offer to back off and give me more time with Jack and I didn’t want that. I wanted to have you and Jack, so I kept it to myself. Which broke us anyway.” He concluded.

“I really wish you would’ve told me; things may have been different Aaron. I am glad you’re telling me now though.” You desperately wanted to reach for his hand but ultimately decided against it.

Now was as good a time as any, you had to tell him about Nora. He confessed something and it was your turn. And just as you were about to open your mouth, a shrill ring sounded from Aaron’s coat pocket.

“Hotchner. Yes…CCU as well? Yes – I’m with their unit chief now. We’re on our way.” Aaron hung up the phone and looked over at you. “Is your team here in Virginia?”

“Yes, they’re not meant to start until tomorrow.” You provided.

“Call them in, we have a case. Time is of the essence.” Aaron signaled for the check.

The two of you contacted your respective teams as you made your way back to the car. Aaron once again opened your door for you and drove you back to the office. You texted your parents and informed them of the case and asked your mom to let Nora know you’d be home as soon as you could.

30 minutes later you were on a private jet to Chicago with your team and the entirety of the BAU. You had unintentionally sat beside Aaron and began going over the case details with everyone. Aaron had begun explaining the preliminary profile, and you couldn’t help but chime in. Everyone was watching how the two of you riffed and bounced ideas off of one another so naturally.

“Just a reminder, there are new protocols for entry into the crime scene when we are locating the children. We need to follow those exactly to ensure we don’t harm these children more so than they are already. If you have any questions about those procedures feel free to ask me or my agents.” You instructed.

“Right. Now for assignments, Dave, JJ and Theo I’d like you to interview the family of the latest victim –”

“Molly Leland.” You corrected.

“Apologies. Dave, JJ, Theo go to the Leland’s and find out anything you can. Morgan, Prentiss and Leila, you three go to the abduction site, I want to ensure CSU didn’t miss anything. And Reid you’ll be with us at the station to start on the geographical profile.” Aaron finished, gesturing to the two of you.

Six days. It had been six days, and you still hadn’t made any progress on this case. Another child had gone missing, and things were incredibly tense. Both teams had been in the designated room within the precinct going over theories.

“I think we’re looking at this all wrong…” Leila began, “I think the person abducting these kids is younger than initially profiled.”

“Given their disorganization and the lack of consistent victimology, I’d say that’s a pretty plausible theory.” Spencer validated.

“Okay, Leila what were you thinking?” You inquired.

“What if it is a teenager? My thoughts were a kid who grew up in foster care – hence the random victimology. They just want siblings, and that’s why there aren’t any bodies.”  Leila suggested.

“I think she’s onto something. If it was a young adult who was newly alone in the world, they’d be looking to find people to surround themselves with.” Morgan continued.

“Garcia, run a search for kids that just aged out of group homes and foster care.” Aaron called to their technical analyst.

“Within the geographical limits I just sent over to you.” Spencer added.

When your phone rang, you excused yourself from the room, answering the call from your mom. You could immediately tell something was wrong given the slight lilt to her voice.

“Mom, what’s wrong?...Why do you need the children’s Tylenol. … Fever? What’s her temperature? … 103? MOM! You need to take her to the ER. … I’m serious! … I’m coming home. … Yes! … I’ll be there as soon as I can. … Take her straight to Bethesda. …Ok. Bye.”

You turned and jumped in surprise at Aaron standing there behind you.

“I just came to let you know we’re splitting up to check out a few leads. Is everything okay?” He asked.

You could tell he had more questions and that he’d more than likely heard the entirety of your conversation but was holding back in asking them.

“Um no. My daughter is sick. She has a pretty high fever. I uh, I need to get home.” You panicked.

“Okay. We will get you home then. I’ll send the teams out and I will make some calls. For now, just try to stay positive okay?” Aaron had always been the calm in the storm.

He sent three separate groups out to find the unsub and had made a few calls back to the director to get you on an emergency flight home. He went as far as to drive you to the hotel and then to the hangar.

“Aaron.”

“Get home to your daughter.” He offered a small smile.

“Thank you.”

Leila had texted to update you that they had caught the unsub and would be heading home in the next hour or so. You had been grateful that the team had successfully closed the case. What was killing you, was the state of your baby girl. She had an excessively high fever, and it just wouldn’t break.

“Miss, there’s someone here to see you.” The nurse informed you.

You looked over at your mom who gave you a nod and you exited the room. Following the nurse to the waiting room, you were surprised to see Aaron standing there.

“I just wanted to see how she’s doing, and how you are.” He declared.

“I um. I’m…” You couldn’t help but break down.

Aaron immediately pulled you into his arms and moved you both over to a couch in the waiting area. He let his hand brush over your hair and whispered reassurances to you. The two of you sat like this for a while before you slowly pulled away.

“Sorry. She just has this fever, and it won’t break, and they don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Sweetheart it’s okay. She will be okay.” Aaron grabbed your hand.

A moment went by and then an alarm sounded. Your gaze shot up as you watched medical staff make their way to Nora’s room. You got up and ran to her room, with Aaron hot on your heels.

“What’s happening? What is going on? Somebody tell me what is going on!” You were practically shouting as Aaron pulled you from the room.

Your mom was pacing in the hallway as Aaron held you back from storming back in. It was killing him to see you this distraught.

“It was a febrile seizure. This can happen when children have such a high fever. We’ve given her a sedative to try and help her rest and we pushed some more Tylenol to aid in breaking the fever.” The doctor explained.

“Is she going to be okay?” You questioned.

“We’re doing everything we can. A nurse will be by soon to take her temperature again.” The doctor walked away.

“I’m going to go find your dad. That way you two can have some privacy.” Your mom said pulling you into a hug.

“This is Nora.” You told Aaron as you ran your hand over her forehead, brushing her curls away from her face.

“She’s beautiful.” He complimented.

You sat in silence for a bit with him just watching Nora. You could tell part of him was itching to ask, but you also knew that Nora was a bit small for her age so he couldn’t be sure that she was his. This moment of avoidance was terminated the second the billing staff came in to get all of your information.

“Hey there, I wanted to confirm all of the info for billing. Do you have your driver’s license and insurance card?” The staff requested.

“Yes, here it is.” You passed her the card.

She filled in all of your information, clicking away on her keyboard while the rest of the room sat with a looming silence. You could feel the question coming. You had been an idiot to give Nora her father’s last name.

“Okay and can you confirm the patient’s name and date of birth for me?”

“Yes, it’s uh…Nora Leigh Hotchner. That’s H-O-T-C-H-N-E-R. Date of birth is 10/4/2019.” You could feel Aaron’s gaze burning into you.

“Alright, here are those cards back. Thank you.” She made her leave.

“Seriously?”

“Aaron, let me explain.”

“Not here.” He motioned toward Nora.

He swiftly made his way out of the room, and you were quick to follow. In noticing your parents, you signaled for them to sit with Nora as you practically chased after Aaron. He didn’t stop until he was in a private waiting room, it was only then that he turned to face you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s mine? And what, you didn’t think to tell me…I don’t know, FOUR YEARS AGO?” Aaron was fuming.

A part of you understood his response, but another part of you was furious that he wasn’t allowing you to explain before flying off the handle.

“Don’t yell at me. If we’re going to do this, we will talk like adults. I will not sit here and allow you to berate me.” You held your ground.

“Okay.”

“I found out I was pregnant after I left for New York. And at that point Aaron, I was so devastated by our breakup, and I just didn’t think I could be around you. I know that’s not fair, but I had thought you and I were forever and then we’d just ended. I was going to tell you last week at dinner, but then we got called in. Aaron I am so sorry, and I know that doesn’t make up for the time you’ve lost, but I also need you to know that I did what I felt like I had to do.” You let your gaze fall to the floor in guilt.

“I understand. I’m not happy, but I get it.” He reached for your hand.

You accepted the gesture and furthered it by pulling him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head atop your own.

“I’ve told her about you.” You whispered.

“What?”

“I’ve told her about you. She’s seen pictures and heard stories. She knows you Aaron.”

He held you a little tighter and you nuzzled a little closer. After a few moments he suggested that you both get back to your girl. You both sat with her all night, letting your parents go home. At three in the morning, the night nurse gave you the good news, her fever had finally broken. The next day, Aaron drove the two of you home, leaving with a scheduled family day where you would introduce Jack and Nora. You had also discussed talking to the kids about their birthday party (since their birthday’s are only 3 days apart). With Jack turning seven and Nora turning 5 in a little more than a month, you wanted to plan something big for the two of them.

** One Month Later **

“Okay, the bounce house is set up and the petting zoo guy just arrived. Where should he set up?” Penelope asked.

“On the southeast side!” Dave hollered.

You were setting up the last of the hors d’oeuvres, while the members of both the CCU and BAU helped get Dave’s backyard set up for the kids birthday party. You were so incredibly grateful for this family you’d come to have.

“We’re here with cake!” Hestia announced.

“Hes! Selene! Hey guys, you can set that up on that round table over there.” You pointed.

Selene came over and gave you a hug, you snuck a snack into her hand and nodded over to your bag.

“My iPad is in there with the Twilight movies all downloaded. Dave has a sitting room down the hall to the right.” You winked at her.

“Thanks mom!” Selene said hugging you once more before heading off.

“Do you have another kid I don’t know about?” Aaron joked, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Ha ha! No, Selene just calls me mom. We’ve both taken care of her since their mom passed, but it became an inside joke that I acted as the mom to Nora, Selene and Hestia.” You huffed a laugh.

“It’s true!” Hestia confirmed, before taking a case of juice boxes outside to the cooler.

“You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” Aaron murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Opposed to what?” You giggled.

“More kids.”

“Aaron! We only just got back together, and we are at our children’s birthday party! Behave yourself.” You hissed.

“I know, but this time around, I’m not letting you go. I plan on marrying you and I just want you to know that I’m open to more children, one day, when and if you’re ready.” He punctuates it with a kiss to your lips.

“Well, I’m open to it too. And whenever you ask, my answer is yes Aaron. You’ve proven to me that you’ve grown since we ended before and I can’t stand the thought of going without you again so, I’m in this, for as long as you’ll have me.” You kissed him once more before carrying a tray outside to the party.

Aaron smiled and grabbed his phone, opening it to check the status of his order. There on his screen was confirmation that your ring had been customized, made, sized, quality checked, and would be shipping out soon.

He couldn’t wait to spend forever with you.

[holylulusworld]

Caught Cold - Alternative version

Summary: Something goes wrong on your latest mission.

Ship/Main Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Written for @buckybarnesevents “Hot Bucky Summer” - Week 6 - “I won’t be able to stop myself. + Sex Pollen + Gone feral + Fuck or die

Read the alternative version here: Caught Cold. Please consider, the beginning of the story is the same as its alternative version.

Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, chasing, sex pollen, smut, unprotected sex, mating bites, I’ll label this one dub-con due to sex pollen

A white mist fills the room after you drop one of the vials you found at the old warehouse. You curse yourself, already hearing Bucky nag. He’s not a big fan of you, especially because you are an omega. If you just screwed this mission up, you won’t hear the end of it.

Bucky holds up his right hand. “AGENT Y/L/N, no! What did you do?“ There’s something in his voice you’ve never heard before. Panic, fear, even. “We gotta get out of here.”

He covers his mouth and nose with his gloved hand. “OUT!”

“Out?” You look around the room. Everything was normal a few seconds ago, and now the former Winter Soldier looks like he saw a ghost. “Sergeant, we have our orders. Captain Rogers wants us to secure the information.”

“OUT!” It’s more of a growl than a word. Bucky takes one step toward you, still covering his mouth. “Y/N, stop talking back for once. We need to…”

His whole body suddenly sizes up. The strong and undefeatable super-soldier falls to his knees. He slams his fists into the ground.

“Sergeant?” You step away from him. Bucky is a little broody, grumpy even. But the man kneeling on the ground stares up at you with glowing eyes. “Sergeant Barnes?” Now you panic. He slams his metal fist into the ground. “You’re scaring me.”

“You…” He growls deep and guttural. “You need to run. Go now.” Bucky seems to fight with an invisible force. He rams his fist into the ground to keep himself from getting back up.

“Why?” You are panicking now. “Sergeant? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“I can smell your pussy,” he snarls in your direction.

“What?” You drop your eyes to your crotch. Can he really smell that his closeness arouses you? You heard that alphas could smell when you are fertile, but can he smell your slick too? "Sergeant, we can’t leave. Why do you want to leave?”

“I won’t be able to stop myself.” Bucky groans loudly as he rams his metal fist into the ground again. “OMEGA!” He purrs low in his throat.

“Oh. God.” You step back, shaking your head, when he gets back on his feet. Bucky cracks his neck and flexes his metal arm. He stares at you like he wants to eat you alive.

“RUN!” It’s the last warning you’ll get. Bucky is close to losing his mind. His alpha is taking over, and there is no rational thought left.

You finally set things into motion and run out of the room. While Bucky growls your name, you try to get in contact with Steve and the rest of the team.

“Captain Rogers, this is an emergency. I think something is wrong with Sergeant Barnes,” you pant while looking over your shoulder. “Can you hear me? Copy?”

All you get is radio silence. Crap. This is the worst time to lose contact with your team.

“OMEGA!” You shriek when you hear Bucky chase after you. Fuck, for a man his size, he’s fucking fast and stealthy. “Come here.”

Like a wild animal, he chases after you, growling your name as you start running again. Your heart thunders in your chest, and your brain goes a mile a minute. You’re torn between following his alpha command and the fear that causes you to run faster.

Until now, you believed that Bucky would never hurt you. But he’s not himself, and you fear he’ll kill you if he gets his hands on you.

He didn’t warn you for nothing.

“Stop running from me.” He’s so close you can smell his sweat. Fuck, how can that fucker run so fast without being out of breath? “OMEGA!”

“Sergeant,” you stumble back. “You need to calm down.” You raise your hands. “I know that I broke the vial, but that’s no reason to kill me!”

“Kill you,” he bares his teeth and chuckles. “I won’t kill you.” You swallow thickly as his eyes drop to your crotch. “I only want to claim what’s rightfully mine.”

Bucky dips his head. He smirks, and you swear, it looks like the fucker is having a blast chasing you around.

“Sergeant,” you giggle. “I’m flattered really, but…uh…this is not the time to think about your knot.” You point at him. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

His eyes darkened at your words. “Stop running away from me. Give up. This is your fault for breaking the vial. You released the sex pollen.”

“Sex pollen?” You release a shuddery breath as the realization hits you. Sex pollen. You heard that term before. Doctor Banner mentioned it months ago. “No…this can’t be. It shouldn’t exist any longer.”

Bucky watches you like a hawk. Every move you make gets noticed by him. He’s an apex predator, an alpha, and a super-soldier with higher senses. Outrunning him won’t work out for you.

“Captain Rogers, can you hear me,” you whisper into the void. Your earpiece is useless. White noise is all you hear. “Fuck…”

Bucky smirks darkly when you lick your lips. He looks like a wild wolf with his teeth bared and his eyes glowing. “They want me to mate you, omega.” He sniffs in your direction. “Lucky me, getting such a nice little pussy today.”

“Hah, yeah…you’re very funny.” You show your palms while slowly walking back. One step, after another.

Bucky cannot know that your panties are soaked and that you’d love to have him on top of you. He’s your supervisor and a fucking super-soldier. You’re not sure if you can take him.

What if he breaks your hips? You giggle at the thought, feeling silly. Bucky would never be interested in mating you. Right? Right…

“I told you to run,” he growls now. “I need to mate you.” Bucky curls his shoulders, eyes glued to you. His eyes flick to your face when you move back again.

“Can you not…jerk it out of your body?” You must sound hilarious because Bucky snorts at your comment. “No?” You frown. Bucky tries to fight the toxin; you can see it in his eyes.

“Come. Here,” he spits while talking. “OMEGA!”

You remember Bruce’s words now. Sex pollen was created to make the alphas compliant. A forced rut and an omega in heat were all they needed to control the soldiers. If they refused to mate, the sex pollen would kill them.

“Sergeant,” you slowly take a step back, and another. “I know you believe you must mate me. Believe me, I like me a good fuck but we’re in the middle of a mission.”

He grins darkly. Bucky watches you turn on your heels to go for a sprint. His growls echo through the abandoned building when you run along the corridor.

You don’t stand a chance. The fucker is fucking thick, and beefy but damn him, that man can run. He goes for a sprint, catching up with you in no time.

You feel his breath before he pounces on you. He tackles you to the ground, immediately burying you under his heavy body. “Sergeant,” you snarl feeling his lips nip at your neck. “This is inappropriate.”

Well, no shit. His erection is pressing against your ass, and you can tell, that man is packing. While Bucky tugs at your tactical suit, you wonder if his dick is another perk of being a super-soldier or if he was packing before Hydra got their hands on him.

“Hey, what,” you whimper when Bucky cuts your tactical suit open. He’s done fooling around. He needs to feel your cunt around him. “I liked that suit.”

You groan, and mutter but it’s no use. Bucky rips the remnants of your brand-new suit down your body before you can call him a jerk.

“Omega,” he hums in appreciation while staring at your exposed body. “Mine.” You debate to get up and try to run again. Bucky is much faster than you, he proved it more than once today. Plus, you always had a thing for the grumpy man.

You hate yourself for it, but you lie still and listen to him cursing and growling. Not because you are scared of fighting him, but to save his life. If the test results Doctor Banner told you about are true, Bucky could die if he doesn’t fuck the toxin out of his body.

“Fuck,” he curses behind you. Bucky is on you again, to cover your body with his large, hard one. He ruts against you, hoping to ease the pain in his groin. Bucky presses his aching cock between your legs, moving against your clit. “Mine…only mine.”

If anything, gets even harder feeling your slick cover his length. “Sergeant,” you wiggle your hips. If he forces you to feel his dick, you want to have him inside of you. “Fuck…” You pant heavily.

He’s growling incorrect words in your ear. You don’t understand a thing, only your name and that he wants to breed you.

His skilled hands, made to defeat any enemy, carefully lift your butt to line himself up with your soaked hole. Bucky fully sheaths himself inside your welcome warmth with one hard thrust. He whines into your neck, ready to pop his knot anytime.

Mine. Mine. Mine. He chants in his mind while slowly starting to rock into you. Bucky never felt so welcome inside a body.

His powerful thrusts make you groan. He’s mounting you like you’re some animal, but your body greedily welcomes him.

Bucky grips your hips, holding you pinned to the ground. “Mine.” His movement becomes erratic when you start to whimper his name. He doesn’t stop. Bucky plunges into you, with only one thought left; to breed and claim you and your body. “Mine…”

“Fuck… Sergeant…” you wiggle your hips, unable to meet his thrust. “I’m gonna…” Shit… fuck… it’s too late. Your cunt grips him tightly, forcing his knot to expand. Bucky sinks his teeth in your neck the moment his release fills you.

“Shit…” Bucky won’t let go of your neck. He grunts against you, feeling his knot lock you together. “What did you do?”

“I,” he finally releases your neck to stare at your now-marked mating gland. He releases an inhuman noise before rutting into you a few more times. “Mine…”

You’re too exhausted to argue. His body still presses you to the ground, and his knot won’t deflate for some time. Lying still you close your eyes and allow yourself to rest for a moment. It’s all too much.

Bucky moves his arms around your body and buries his face in your neck. He nuzzles you while feeling the fog clouding his mind slowly start to fade away.

“Y/N! BUCK!”You stiffen underneath Bucky when you recognize Steve’s voice. “BUCK!”

“Capsicle, can you slow down?” Tony whistles the moment his eyes land on Bucky’s naked ass. He snickers and decides to snap a few pictures. “Buckethead, that��s not how we train our rookies,” Tony tsks.

“Tony,” Steve grunts. He looks anywhere but at his friend and you buried under the heavy alpha. “Can you just not.”

“I told you it’s an emergency,” you mutter from under Bucky. “You didn’t listen.”

“What happened?” Steve tries to find out what happened while Tony snickers behind his back. “Tony, just stop it.” He angrily raises his fist.

“Sex pollen,” Bucky slurs. “She dropped sex pollen.” He huffs into your neck. “I had to breed her.”

“Yeah, can you not tell anyone about our little breeding escapade, Sergeant,” you grumble. It’s worse enough that Captain America and Tony walked in on you.

“Steve, some privacy please,” Bucky wraps his arms tighter around your body to roll to his side to take his weight off of you.

Steve gives Tony a stern look. He huffs and jerks his head toward the entrance. “Let’s give them some time. Sex pollen is the worst…”

Tony furrows his brows. “How do you know, Capsicle?” He follows Steve outside the building. “Did you…you know…experience it too.”

While Steve and Tony fight over his phone and the pictures he took of Bucky’s naked ass, Bucky nuzzles you and murmurs your name.

He worriedly looks at you in his arms, sighing deeply. “Are you cold? I can’t move but I can roll on my back. I’m sorry about…uh…everything.”

“I don’t want Tony to see my naked ass…” You both start laughing at that. There’s a lot to talk about, especially the fact that Bucky claimed you…”

Tags in reblog.

[antidesire]

just wanna give leon the head of his lifetime, any place, any time. this is a selfish and messy little impromptu piece

disclaimer.. 18+ only! afab reader x re4 leon kennedy, p w/o plot, blowjob, dirty talk, salvia/spit, roughness!, degrading, leon cums down your throat, yum, maybe a little bit implied size difference/kink.

the way the muscles in leon’s arms spasm and flex every time he pushed your head further down his cock was something so delightfully arousing, lustful greed evident in the way your panties became increasingly sticky, uncomfortable.

forcing out a few tears to clear your blurred vision you blinked up at the agent, skin glistening from a sheen of sweat, other arm gripping onto the wooden cabinet behind his back, enough to turn his knuckles white and leave small splinters if it wasn’t for his leather fingerless gloves.

he was being careless, sloppy- you could tell by the way his hips stuttered and faltered after every push. you had to squeeze onto one of his thighs to keep yourself grounded, there was nothing more you loved than hearing his voice become hoarse and frantic,

“fuck..” he somewhat chuckled out of pure bliss, head knocked back a few seconds, breathy moans following a spew of curses and thuds of his hand hitting the cabinet he stabled himself with, before his eyes settled back on you, drooling as you made work of him, head pulling back to let the spit run down from the angry red tip of his cock, watching it twitch, leon’s eyebrows furrowing as he bucked his hips up at the loss of the warmth of your mouth down his length.

oops, you got a little carried away watching how pretty he is,

“please, sweetheart.” he choked out, tongue dashing out to lick his lips, thumb pressing into your cheek as he held your jaw.

“i got you baby.” you hummed, your hand pushing up his shirt so it wouldn’t get in the way, scrunching it in your fist and holding it just above his belly button.

all gentle gestures and soft intentions flew out the window, leon’s jaw tensing as he stared in awe, mouth gaped open as you pushed his cock past your lips, eyes squeezing shut when the tip of your nose pressed against the hair at his lower abdomen. you held yourself there for a couple counts, feeling lightheaded and euphoric with each fleeting second.

“o-oh, nghnn.” leon’s hips bucked desperately, “yeah, yeah, just like that..” leon hissed out, eyes were concentrated on you below him, your legs either side of you, perched on his boot, rutting down on the stiff material, your hips working on their own to find some friction.

you pulled slowly back, bobbing your head some more to elicit some more pretty sounds from leon, it was a little cruel but you couldn’t help it, you wanted to drag every second of this out despite the situation you were in- the mission you were both assigned to.

lifting your head off of him once again you brought your hand up to squeeze around him, he was so hard and your saliva made it easy for him to fuck up into your hand.

the poor little confused look on his face, lip jutted out from your sudden ulterior motives, he wasn’t always so lenient, would’ve been more stern, demanding, but he was so pent up he couldn’t form the right words so his eyes followed your every little action, your head leaning in to place wet open mouth kisses along the expanse of his stomach, tongue dashing out to lick from the bottom of his hips upwards, salty sweat mixed with the taste of him on your tongue made your hips jut against his boot again.

leon’s hand followed in the path of your own, squeezing around it and directing you to pump quicker, and god he looked so delicious, his neck strained, head titled and lips parted for moans to fall from, “stop staring at me.” his lips tugged into a smile amidst his pleasured sounds.

your cheeks heated up a little, softly hitting his chest, “i need to cum, so, so bad.” he grumbled, frustrated, “c’mon baby.. you want it too.” and you did, nothing more you wanted then for your man to get anything and everything he desired.

you nodded, shuffling closer, feeling your clothed pussy rub against his boot once again, nails digging into his hip, as you pried your hand and his off of him, tilting your head up and sticking out your tongue invitingly, being rewarded with what you wanted when you watched the pooled spit in his mouth fall from his lips and down to your tongue, filthy.

it sent pulses all throughout your body, evident by the way you further shifted down on his shoe, “you’re disgusting, fuck, i love it.” he laughed in disbelief, leaning his foot back to press it further in between your legs.

it made you dizzy, but you were determined not to get sidetracked again, “shut up.” you whined, shaky breathes before enclosing your lips around his tip, tongue swirling at the bead of pre cum gathered before once again bobbing your head, your pace much more consistent but quick this time, long pushes of your head to accommodate his size, as much as you had gotten used to it he was still so big, feeling his tip stuff the back of your throat without even having him fully in your mouth, there was no other sensation you loved more in this moment, the cherry on top was his moans getting whinier, repeated chants of your name and praise falling from his lips like the sweetest prayer you had ever heard.

his voice was strained but you could make out what he was saying, “that feels so good, doll, don’t stop, oh-“ he cut himself off when you forced him as far as you can go, swallowing around the tip of him, gagging and sputtering but composing yourself quickly, you needed to.

“shit, you look so cute like this- oh my god, baby..” he hissed out, hips pushed up, feeling like he was about to snap.

you whined against him, vibrations making his hips stutter, sloppy, dirty sounds of your mouth slipping up and down, slobbering over his cock as if it was your favourite treat, couldn’t get enough of the man towering over you.

“m’gonna cum- fuck!” he yelled, voice cracking as his hand flew to the back of your head, pushing you down on him with no regard for your breathing or comfort, stuffed full of him and there’s nothing you loved more as he shallowly fucked up into your mouth as if you were nothing more than a toy in that moment, something to satisfy him, to use to empty his balls in to, it had your stomach churning with complete ecstasy.

leon was panting like an animal, his dirty blonde hair tousled, stray strands sticking to the sweat building up on his forehead as he spews out more curses and hoarse moans as the wood cabinet behind him creaked and slammed back against the wall, his hips jutted messily, the sounds of your gagging and the saliva bouncing off the four walls.

“oh, oh, take it, fucking take it..” he breathlessly puffed out, followed by a loud groan and you soon felt the rush of his cum fill your mouth, coating your tongue and past your throat, trying your best not to make more of a mess of yourself and choke.

his hips were still moving on their own, only calming when he got to sensitive, hissing and easing himself, hand relaxing from your head as he admired his work of you, lips swollen, wet with spit and his cum, cheeks puffy and your nose the cutest shade of red, he was mentally snapping pictures to store in his memory.

you were spent, jaw aching and hand coming up to rub your poor throat, “shit, sorry baby..” he laughed, a little embarrassed at how carried away he got, “just felt so good.” he groaned dreamily, head knocking back as he already replayed it out in his mind.

“i’ll make it up to you sweetheart, i swear.”

[hauntingcryptids]

Lie Down With Me

O x Reader (Dhawan!Master x Reader)

Summary - The Reader, an agent at MI6, is obsessing over their current mission and O helps them with their stress.

Based On This Request - Anonymous requested - “Hello there how are you? I hope that you’re doing well. If it’s okay I was wondering if I could request an O x Reader (Dhawan!Master) where the reader is a secret agent and after working hard on a mission they are tired but cannot sleep. So O offers to hypnotise the reader to make them sleep”

Warnings - the reader being stressed and overstimulated, The Master hypnotises the reader with their consent, but obviously the reader doesn’t know about The Master and his powers

Word Count - 2697

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Requested by a lovely anon.

------------------------------------------------------------

You were an excellent secret agent. Truly one of the best. The only flaw you would say that you had would be that you were too committed to your job. MI6 was worried for you, for your mental health in particular, but even your physical health. For as long as you were a secret agent at MI6, you spent every second of your day committed to whichever case you were scheduled to complete. Even though MI6 was proud of your work, they expected a level of relaxation after a big, often traumatic, case. But you never took time off. Ever.

MI6, specifically C, decided to step in. You required a new flat because your old base house was compromised. So, C assigned you to a new base house, and this time the organisation assigned you a roommate. 

You had seen O occasionally around MI6 headquarters. The two of you were assigned to different departments, so you never had any real opportunity to get to know each other. However, you always found O’s research to be incredibly valuable to your agency’s cause. C disagreed with your opinion constantly, but you would always stand up for O and his work.

There had been an incredible amount of alien interference in Human affairs since the early nineteen sixties, but since around 2005 sightings of aliens have nearly quadrupled. You couldn’t understand why so many of your fellow agents and C thought that O was a loon when he seemed to be ahead of the curve. Maybe your kindness towards the quiet agent was why he was chosen as your roommate. Or maybe it was because of his perseverance. To C, O might be the only person within MI6, or even the Universe, to actually get you to take a break.

So far, though, O was not successful. Since moving in together, you continued to work long hours, way into the night, and you rarely took longer than a normal weekend to recover from a case. O tried everything in his power to make you feel safe and calm around your flat and in the office, and it only seemed to bring the two of you closer. Which O loved, but that wasn’t what he was tasked to do. He wasn’t here to be your friend, he was here to protect you, and he was failing in that manner.

------------------------------------------------------------

The current case you were working on was getting to you. More than any other case before. You didn’t know how to feel. Even though you had stressful cases before, none were like this. No case before was ever so agonising. For some reason, nothing seemed to be falling into place, clues weren’t lining up and leads were falling flat. Even C, who was usually more slow when reacting and responding to national and international threats, was getting stressed and hounding you to do better. C even went behind your back three days ago to berate O on the “lack of timeliness” regarding your mission.

You had been awake since O told you about his interaction with the head of MI6. You probably fell asleep at some point, but for no substantial amount of time. After hours of pacing around your room, agonising over the clues, you finally walked to the kitchen to get a caffeinated drink. It didn’t really matter what drink it was at this point; you just needed the energy in order to keep going. You couldn’t stop. You just couldn’t.

You decided to make something warm. Maybe the heat would also jolt you awake along with the caffeine. As you waited for the water to boil, you began pacing again. You even started muttering to yourself, just replaying the clues and the scenarios that could possibly be important to your end goal. You huffed in frustration when nothing, again, ended up connecting or resolving itself.

“Are you okay?” You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard O’s question. You really must be losing your mind because you didn’t even hear O enter the room. You were one of MI6’s best agents; you refused to lose your spot in the organisation just because of one case.

“Of course I’m okay. Are you okay, O?”

“I’m just a little worried.” O’s brows knitted together as he stared at you in your frantic state.

“Maybe you should take a nap or eat some food, maybe go for a walk.” You pondered out loud as you prepared your warm and heavily caffeinated beverage.

“Right … Yeah, I would, however, it is not myself that I am worried for.” O said this softly, tentatively, almost as if he was scared of your reaction, but you knew that O wasn’t scared of you. He saw you bundle home after a brutal case completely covered in blood and never treated you differently after the fact. So that must mean that O was worried for you and he was scared that you might be offended.

“What? Me? I’m perfectly fine! Don’t be ridiculous, O.” You turned around animatedly to O, trying to appear healthy and stable. All you needed was to complete this case and then everything would go back to normal. 

“Well, C said that you have the habit -”

“Who cared what C said?!” You screamed across the room. O’s face fell and his eyes widened in shock. You had never spoken to him like that before. Immediately, you regretted what you had done. You groaned and covered your face in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry! O, I didn’t mean that. I really didn’t. I guess the stress has been getting to me lately.” You admitted defeatedly. You had been trying to suppress your growing emotions for O since moving in together, but now you couldn’t deny them now. Seeing O’s shocked face after you yelled at him broke your heart.

“Y/n, you’re totally fine. I’m not mad. I just want to make sure that you are taking care of yourself.” O walked over to where you were now leaning against the kitchen counter and held your arms firmly in his hands.

“Please, let me help you.” O tried to look you in the eyes, but you continued to hide them from him.

“You don’t have to do that. I can just-”

“No. Okay, no. C asked me to watch over you and to make sure that you take care of yourself. And I have been trying to help, but I have not been doing that well enough. So, please, let me help you now.” You sighed. You really didn’t like feeling like a failure. It caused you to feel an all-consuming hatred for yourself. You collapsed into O’s shoulder, completely crestfallen.

“I don’t know how to be calm, O. I don’t know what to do if I’m not working. And now I can’t even do the one thing I am good at properly.” O wrapped his arms around you and began rubbing circles on your back.

“Well, you can just spend some time with me.”

“O … I don’t have time for friends or relationships. You know this.”

“Maybe having more than just a workplace relationship will be good for you.” You were going to respond, but O suddenly removed you from the hug and then pulled you out of the kitchen and into the hall.

“Where are we going?” You asked with exhaustion finally reaching your voice.

“Your room.”

“Why?”

“You need sleep.” You rolled your eyes but choose to not comment. You knew that you needed sleep, but you had been unable due to your anxiety over the case. You still thought that trying to sleep before completing your research was a lost cause, but maybe O could actually help you. He was an incredibly intelligent agent and person, and he was chosen to keep an eye on you, maybe an inch of trust could go a long way.

Once in your room, O let go of your hand before crawling onto your bed. He got comfortable horizontally against the head of your bed, sitting right up against your pillows. He then looked up at you with a smile and patted his lap as if to say that there was where you should be. You tentatively moved to the edge of your bed but stopped there before moving onto your soft and inviting mattress.

“O, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to help you sleep. Now come on up here.” O pushed the covers back and motioned you over again. 

“I don’t know O …”

“Trust me, Y/n, I’m soft and cuddly. You will absolutely get the rest you need with me. And if that is not enough convincing, I could tell you about all of the people I put to sleep with my lectures.” You laughed under your breath, still trying to stay strong to your convictions, but O’s warm and inviting smile won you over. You crawled into your bed tentatively and sat on your feet as you stared at O.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked. O stared back at you for a moment before a more playful smile crept on his face.

“Well, first you should lie down.” You stared at O for a long time, trying to deduce his motives, but, eventually, you did as O said and lied down on your bed beneath your blankets. You made sure to not touch O. You didn’t want to indeed his space or make him uncomfortable.

“It would be best if your head was on my lap.” You sighed, unsure of what O was planning, but you moved yourself up the bed and then laid your head on O’s lap.

“I don’t think I will be able to sleep, O. My brain is too anxious and loud. So, you don’t have to do anything.” You muttered in a rushed matter. You knew that you were in a bad state, and you were very appreciative of everything O had done and was continuing to do for you. You just didn’t think that anything would actually succeed in soothing you until you completed your case. You didn’t want O to waste his time with you when he could be doing something more important.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I have to help you. You need this.” O said firmly while looking down at you.

“O … how?”

“I could always hypnotise you.”

“No, you can’t.” You chuckled in disbelief.

“I study alien tech and UFO visits to our planet; I absolutely can hypnotise you.” 

“Fine. Hypnotise me, O.” You still didn’t believe O, even though you could hear the intense conviction within his voice, but you let O help you. In your drained state, with O holding you, you finally realized that O was the only person you truly had in your life. Everyone else either left you or you left them. So, letting O help you and trusting him, just a little, sounded like the only option you had for connection. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t want to grow a connection with anyone other than O.

“You need to look into my eyes.” O leaned over you again, bringing you out of your mind. Slowly he moved to hold your face in his hands. You sucked in a breath when O’s soft yet slightly calloused hands touched your skin. You relished in the feeling of his fingers brushing along your temples as you prepared yourself to look into O’s eyes for a long time. You were familiar with some forms of Human hypnotise, even though you didn’t necessarily believe in its effects. You knew that hypnosis sessions could be very vulnerable. Your old ways of masking yourself plagued the back of your mind, but you pushed them away and reminded yourself that O was here to help you. He wouldn’t hurt you. You were safe being in a vulnerable state with O.

Finally, you looked into O’s eyes after preparing yourself. He smiled sweetly at you, reassuringly and rewardingly. You let out a sigh of relief. Opening up to O wasn’t as difficult as you thought it was. And now you got to see a part of O he rarely ever showed; you got to see O’s more vulnerable side as you continued to open up to him. 

O continued to look at you while brushing his hands along the curves of your face. He was being so attentive, so focused on you and your breathing and your state. You mostly focused on O’s eyes, though. O’s eyes were so beautiful. You had observed that his eyes were stunning before, but that was from far away. Up close, you could see that his eyes were a beautiful mix of amber, honey, chocolate, and dark coffee. They almost looked as if they had intricate galaxies or nebulas trapped within them, but that would be impossible. Either way, O was beautiful and alluring. You didn’t know if this hypnotise was working, but you, at least, were drawn into a calming state because of O.

“Now take some deep breaths with me.” O instructed in a whisper. You followed him in his directing of your breaths. For a couple of minutes, you and O proceeded to breathe as one all while looking each other in the eye. You definitely felt more relaxed than you had before. And, instead of mind-numbing exhaustion, you felt a wave of calm tiredness wash through you, almost as if you were being called to sleep. 

You began to feel O massaging your temples. His fingers dug into your skin in relaxing circles and occasionally he brushed his hands down your face before returning to your temples to massage them again. The headache that had been slowly growing throughout the day eased itself out of your brain. Finally, your eyes were starting to grow heavy and began to droop. You tried to keep them open out of latent stubbornness, but O quickly saw that, and he urged you to give into your body’s needs.

“Let your eyes close. You can tell that they want to close.” With your remaining energy, you rolled your eyes at O, and he chuckled at your drowsy yet stubborn state.

“O?”

“It’s fine. You’re safe. You’re safe with me. We will work through everything together once you rest first. No, go to sleep.” You looked at O one last time before letting your eyes finally close. You were close to sleep, but before you succumbed to the side effects of hypnosis you picture O right before you closed your eyes. His eyes were so soft and warm, and his fingers were so nimble while massaging your temples. He nodded reassuringly before you closed your eyes like he was confirming again that you were safe.

“Let yourself sleep, love.” You heard O say just before you drifted off into the world of calming sleep.

The Master petted your head and caressed your face even after you were completely asleep. You wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon thanks to his hypnotism. He made sure that, at the very least, you would receive a good eight hours of sound and deep sleep. Frankly, he should have done this days ago. The Master knew this, but his plans against The Doctor were now getting in the way of his goal of protecting you. He was upset that he let you get to this point. He reprimanded himself for not intervening sooner.

He was conflicted of course. The Doctor versus a Human. This was a scenario that The Master could never foresee happening, but it did and now you were here in his arms. You were really becoming an important part of The Master’s life. 

The Master stayed with you while you slept. He simply and easily could have sent a bit more hypnotic waves into your mind and moved you so he could work on his plan to destroy The Doctor, but you were more important. You really were more important, even though it was difficult for The Master to admit that to himself. He could deal with The Doctor later. Right now, The Master would just focus on you.

[nexysworld]

Summary: After his last failed mission, the D.S.O dropped him off at the shelter. Grumpy and off-putting, his chances of leaving were bleak until you came along. Pairing: Dog Hybrid!Vendetta Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, hybrid sex, unprotected sex, age gap, oral sex, knotting, mild dubcon reader into it though, cream pie, mentions of alcohol, mild angst, but also comfort, no use of y/n

Read on AO3 || Askbox || Masterlists A/N: A birthday gift for a wonderful person. <3 Also thanks to @explorevenus for helping with the banner photos, because Nexy still cannot Pinterest correctly. Title from the deftness song, Cherry Waves. I also have a bot based off this story: Character AI || Spicychat

Leon grumbled as he laid against the shitty bench-turned-bed inside the small gray walled kennel. There was only a folded up blanket for padding, to protect him from the cold cement beneath his back. It was a far cry to the plush and lavish hotel room beds previously provided by the D.S.O. His ears twitched as he curled in facing the wall, doing his best to drown out the sound of the other hybrids around him as well as the sound of the people looking around. His throat ached for the burn of some good whiskey.

He resented all of them – owners and the yipping little pups who they were here to claim. How many months had it been since he’d seen the dewy green of the grass outside. How many months since some poor soul decided to even peer into his kennel? Too many by his calculations.

Leon didn’t want an owner exactly, much more used to having his own freedom. It was one of the few good things about his previous employment. As a federal agent Leon had been allowed free reign for most things unlike the other hybrids who ran around playing butler-house-pet or fuck toy. An owner meant rules, it meant being friendly, it meant playing and being lovey – all the things he had grown to be inexplicably bad at.

He couldn’t deny though that somewhere deep within his alcohol riddled organs, it stung a little knowing that he was likely never leaving the kennel again, it was his prison.  An owner at least meant getting out of there. But alas, he wasn’t a puppy anymore, and between his age and ‘off putting personality’ as it stated on his papers, he knew it was a pipe dream.

He stretched his limbs, flopping onto his back, trying to push the thought out of his mind. Idly, he stared at the flickering light mounted to the ceiling, eyes following the creaky fan blades as they swirled around. It was almost enough to lull him into another dreamless nap, until he heard an unfamiliar gait heading his way. With no pups beyond his kennel he figured it was someone walking the wrong way, so he ignored it, returning to the fascinating task of counting specs on the ceiling tiles once he grew bored of the fan. 

“Hm?” One of his ears perked up as the footsteps stopped outside his room. A moment of silence, no further sound. The soft scent of some dainty perfume graced his nostrils. “What are you still standing there for? Puppies are the other way.” He called out idly, still not willing to acknowledge their presence with his eyes. 

“O-oh. Well…I wasn’t really looking for a puppy per se.”  Soft. Soft was the best way he could describe your voice, like his ears were being tucked into a cushiony blanket. He couldn’t decide if he hated it or not, but it intrigued him enough to finally sit up — it’d been a while since someone who sounded as sweet as you bothered to even look his way.

Scratching at his stubble he took you in, head to toe as he walked closer, leaning against the bars. Just as he thought; soft, sweet, cute, too young. “Not looking for a puppy?” He questioned, raising a dark brow. “You really think I’m your taste?”

Doe eyes darted to his little display plaque before back to his, he could tell you were nervous, the slightest rosy flush on your cheeks. “I think so.” The words weren’t confident, they wavered, your hands fidgeted. He wanted to laugh in dry amusement, but he wasn’t that mean. “Listen kid, unless you got a flask of whiskey hidden in your pocket, a cute thing like you is better off finding a puppy to fawn over.”

“I don’t want a puppy.” You said again, this time more firm, determination overtaking your features. “The whiskey can be arranged though.” 

“You’re joking.” “Nope. Dead serious.” “You read my file? You know how big of a grouch I can be.” “I did.I like a challenge.”  That ditzy little smile never left your face, but your eyes screamed sincerity. His eyes narrowed, he had both arms crossed while he considered what you were saying, squeezing the worn leather of his jacket. “There’s plenty of other old dogs around here.” “You’re not old.” “I’m 37.” “That’s not old.”

“Old for you.” “You don’t even know how old I am.” “You’re a real pain, you know that kid?” “I like you already.”  Leon tilted his head to the side, one ear flopping with the movement, his tail against his will wagging slowly behind him. You were interesting, that’s for sure, like a little warm dart shot into his iced over heart. For the briefest moment he felt hope, though he steeled it away as fast as it came – he knew better than to let emotions like that flourish. But at least he figured this could be a nice vacation.. “Know what? I like you too, kid. But don’t expect me to do any cute shit.” “No cute shit, got it.” 

The apartment was small, simple white walls, beige carpet that looked kinda scratchy. It reminded him of the first apartment he ever had, rented it himself when he began the police academy. That felt like a world away now – yet he could still remember the look on the manager’s face when he rolled up as a fresh-faced pup to sign the lease, his academy badge attached to his shirt. 

‘Wonder what my life would’ve been if I could’ve stayed that guy.’ He mused, following you around for the grand tour.  “It’s not much. But there’s a second bedroom you can have all to yourself, and the hall bathroom is all yours too.” 

He nodded, sniffing around the place, everything had your scent lingering on it, even down to the guest room sheets. That same dainty scent, he hated to admit it but it was nice, growing on him by the second – so much so he even felt his cock twitch in his pants. Surprising to him, he can’t remember the last time he popped a stiffy between the alcohol, work, and sour mood he’d been in forever.

When you weren’t looking he adjusted himself in his pants. You were saying something, but truthfully he was only half listening. “What was that?” “I was just saying how tomorrow we can stop and get you whatever you’re needing. I would offer you some of my pajamas but yknow…” 

“It’s fine, I’m a boxers kind of dog anyway.” He swatted you away dismissively. “Don’t worry about it either, I should still have some money in my account from my last job. I just have to get to the bank.” “Oh. Ok.” You replied. “Well uhmm, you know my room’s next door. If you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to come get me.” “Mhmm.” He didn’t say goodnight as he heard the door shut behind him. Not having much on his person to unpack, he decided to just strip for bed. He kicked his browned boots off into the corner, tossing the jacket on top. Opting to leave the tshirt on, he tossed his jeans over with the rest before flopping back onto the mattress. 

Truth be told, the silence was odd – even at the shelter there was always something or someone making noise. The loud industrial AC unit on blast, night puppies running around their rooms, idle chatter. Here there was just…silence, loneliness still. Despite the unease that set forth within him, he had to admit the feeling of a real mattress felt delightful, like floating on clouds. Rolling over he took the opportunity to bury his face in the pillow, finally getting to indulge in your scent as much as he wanted. His eyes squeezed shut, his tail wagged against the bed thumping each time it connected – he was glad for the privacy.  ‘I’m fucked up for this, she’s too young.’

He considered rubbing one out before falling asleep, but between the way he was sinking into the bed and the coolness of the pillow, he stood no chance. It wasn’t long before that sinking feeling of unconsciousness began to wrap itself around him. His cock could wait another day. 

For the first time in a long time, Leon dreamed while he slept. 

You sat in your own bed, unable to sleep. It was odd knowing that someone else was in your home for a change, but you supposed that was the whole point. 

Living alone was hard, kinda scary, and definitely lonely. Though the decision to get a hybrid was one you landed on impulsively. You considered a regular dog but that was more of a hassle than you wanted – what you really needed was a companion that could be independent. 

Leon’s picture was one of the first on the shelter’s website. You were surprised a dog his age was there, more surprised at how handsome he was if you were honest. His file caught your interest right away, previously employed, a government agent? The mystery behind that had you wanting to know more – was he like James Bond? Why would a government agent wind up in a shelter? Someone like that would make a good guard dog, right? 

And then of course when you saw him in person you knew you wanted him. Leather jacket, boots, and those cute fuzzy ears. God. It felt like his blue eyes pierced your soul, his locks framing his face – you loved it. 

Now here you were, he was in the room right next to you and yet you couldn’t get him off your mind. Looking over at the clock it was around midnight now. ‘Come on, just sleep. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can talk to him.’ You reminded yourself, trying to will your brain into submission

It didn’t work. 

“This sucks.” You complained to yourself, hanging your legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at your eyes. Figuring stretching your legs and grabbing a glass of water might help, you pushed forward, quietly making your way out of the room and down the small hallway to the kitchen.

The chilling water felt like a rush of relief the moment it made contact with your mouth, legs feeling better after walking as well. You stretched almost like a cat, arms in the air, relishing in the feeling before deciding to head back to bed. 

Your trek back was interrupted by sound coming from behind Leon’s door, it was so quiet at first you almost ignored it, until his booming voice made you jolt where you stood. 

“Fuck you Patricio, you fucking coward! I should kill you myself.”  “What the hell?” Nosily you cracked his door slightly. “Leon? Everything alright?” There was no immediate response, but you heard shuffling on the bed, like he was thrashing around. This time you pushed the door open completely, hall light illuminating the room just enough to see his torso on the bed. 

Another noise left him, almost like a pained cry, then a whimper. “Fuck you.” He said again. “They’re all dead because of you…no…because of me.” His voice became quieter towards the end of his sentence. 

“Leon?” You cooed his name, sitting down on the edge of the bed. You weren’t sure what to do, but it hurt to see him struggle in unconsciousness. Gently you placed your hand on his cheek, he was clammy, the stubble rough against your hand. He didn’t seem any closer to waking, but you could feel his facial muscles tense – a growl left him as he rolled the other way. 

Daring to reach out, you pet at his ears gently, the short fur soft against your skin. “Hey, it’s alright.” You moved closer on the bed, intending to try and comfort him some more. Instead, your hand landed on his tail by accident. 

Leon jolted awake, and in an instant you were flipped onto your stomach, arm twisted and pinned to your back. Your muscles strained painfully, his grip bruising. His breath was hot against your ear, growling loud. “Ow!” You whimpered, face buried into the pillow. 

His nose pressed into your neck, sniffing a bit before he finally retracted slightly. You could feel his cock harden a little as it twitched through his boxers, pressed slightly in on your thigh from behind. “Oh shit.” He said, sleep addled brain fully catching up. “Shit, I’m sorry kid.” He didn’t move off of you completely, but he let go of your arm at least. “You alright?” “I think so.” “What were you even doing in here?” “You were having a bad dream. I wanted to make sure you were ok.” You mumbled against the pillow, flopping your arm to the side to ease the pain and tension from how it had been pulled. You weren’t sure what to do next, ask him to get off? Try to move? Stay still? While it should have scared you more than it did, you hadn’t expected him pinning you down to make you feel…exhilarated? That coupled with him pressed against you made your panties grow sticky with arousal. ‘This is awkward.’ You thought to yourself, hoping he didn’t notice. Hoping he would do something on his end to move the situation forward.

“Are you sure that’s the only reason you were in here?” You couldn’t see him, but you swore you could hear the smirk in his very words. He leaned over you again, this time his chest flush against your back, lips against your ear. “I can smell it on you, you know. Don’t even need to feel it to know you’re soaking.” 

“Wha–” Your face burned hot with embarrassment, more slick soaked your panties with just his words. “No I swear, I was just –” Your words were cut off instantly by the feeling of his tongue on the shell of your ear, the warm muscle teasing it, skin cooling the moment it moved away. 

“You smelled good earlier. But now? Now you smell like a fucking treat.” He said, burying his nose back into your neck, pressing his now nearly fully hard cock against you more. He ground down slightly as he took in your scent again. “Wanna just tear you apart, eat you up.” 

“Leon!” You gasped out, squirming under him. “Bad boy!” You managed to get out, though it lacked any real authority.  He snorted with amusement, leaning back, a firm grasp on your hips with both hands. “I’m bad? Who’s the one sneaking into someone else’s bed in the middle of the night?” He punctuated each word by grinding his clothed erection against your clothed cunt.  “I already said..I wasn’t… Bad, boy. Down!” You whimpered again, trying to sound firm this time, and failing again. 

“No can do.” He replied. “Got me all worked up now.” He gave a solid slap to your ass cheek, not enough to leave a mark, but just enough to sting lightly. “I warned you to go fawn over a puppy, didn’t I?” “L-leon –”

 “Not in control with me, Sweetheart. Shouldn’t get a pet you’re not ready to take care of.” 

You weren’t able to reply as he brought his hand between you from behind, rubbing at your clit through your panties. He ghosted his fingers there with just enough pressure to make you want more, but not enough to really push you over that cliff of euphoria. A needy whine worked it’s way out of you, and you ground your clothes pussy back against his hands, desperate for more pressure.  “That’s better.” He praised, rewarding you by letting rut against his hand. “Gonna cum just from that, aren’t you? Dirty little owner.” He teased.  “N-no” You attempted to protest, but he was right. It felt so good, though a little rough from the friction of the wet fabric. Your hips didn’t stop their movement against his warm hand, chasing that pleasure, each movement making you whimper into the pillow. It wasn’t long before you were cumming against his hand, him rubbing your back with his free one, coaxing you through it. “Atta girl,” he praised. 

While you caught your breath, he made quick work of your panties, not bothering to pull them off, opting to tear the thin fabric instead, leaving them torn between your legs. “Bet you taste as good as you smell.” He mumbled to himself, scooting down the bed enough that he could lean forward face to face with your wet folds. He gave no warning before he dove in, tongue lapping at you like you were dripping liquid gold. “Sweet as a fuckin’ treat.” He said, pulling away just long enough to take a breath before sucking on your clit gently, swirling his tongue around it.

Too sensitive from your previous orgasm, you kicked against the bed, back arching as you tried to get his attention. “S’too much.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. If he heard you, he didn’t acknowledge it, simply pulling you closer to his face, strong arms keeping you pinned where you were as he continued devouring your cunt mercilessly. “S’too much!” You cried out again. 

With one more particularly hard suck, your whole body tensed, hole clenching around nothing as you came again. Hot pleasure radiated from your core, shooting zaps of pleasure that tingled your fingertips and made your toes curl. Little aftershocks of pleasure made your brain hazy as he eased up on the pressure, giving light licks now to savor your taste. 

Legs trembling, you were relieved when you felt him move from between your thighs, feeling his weight shift off the bed for a moment. When he returned, you realized he’d taken his boxers off, whining pathetically as he ran the hot sticky tip of his cock against your folds, bumping it over your clit again for good measure making you squeal. 

“Be a good girl and relax.” He said, finally pressing himself inside of you. It was just the tip but you already felt so full, like you were being speared with every inch. “Easy, easy….biiiiiiiiiiigggg stretch.” He cooed, finally burying himself to the balls. You had never felt so full before, mouth opening into a little ‘o’ shape, no sound coming out. Velvet walls tightened around him, making him hiss behind you. “No pushin’ me out, not ‘til I’m done.” He said, sliding out just a little before pressing back in. He did this a few times, slow shallow thrusts, easing you open for him.  Leon wrapped one arm around you, pulling you back so you were leaning against him as he rocked your bodies together. He splayed one hand against your stomach to help hold you in place, the other a firm grip on your neck. Not tight enough for you to be unable to breathe, but enough to cut off some of the blood supply, give your brain that heavy drowsy feeling – tongue flopping out in your dazed state. 

Tilting your head to the side, he lapped at the junction between your neck and shoulder before biting down on the spot, letting just his canines puncture the skin, careful to not draw too much blood. You gasped at the sensation, while it stung at first, each slam of his thick cock head to your cervix made any pain forgettable, enjoying the feeling of being stretched and filled.

He was close, you could tell by the rugged and uneven breaths he was taking, mixed with how he desperately rutted into you. He pressed you forward back onto the mattress, releasing your neck to reach down and lace his fingers through yours, his other hand maintaining its spot around you for support as he smacked his hips against yours. 

Leon came hard, balls tightening as he painted your insides white with thick ropes of cum. He rode out his own pleasure with deep but slow thrusts, holding you tightly against him. It wasn’t long before the knot on his cock stretched you out further, nearly at your limit. “I know, I know.” He said, rubbing your stomach gently as you squeezed his other hand. Once you seemed mostly adjusted, he carefully rolled both of you so that you were laying sideways, one leg bent back slightly over his to accommodate where your bodies were still linked. He held you close to him, nuzzling into your neck and lapping up any remaining blood from the bite mark. 

Silence passed as your bodies cooled down together, an overwhelming sleepiness taking over you. You rubbed at your eyes again before breaking the silence by calling out his name. “Leon?” “Yeah?” “Are you really ok though?” “Huh?” He sounded genuinely perplexed by the simple question. “The nightmare, it sounded…real…like a memory. Are you alright, like really alright?” You turned your neck as best you could, wincing slightly from the bruised bite that was now aching a bit, trying to see his face in the dark room.  “You were serious about that?”  “Yeah, I was worried. I told you I wanted to make sure you were alright.” “Shit …. I’m fine kid, promise. Just a bad memory that’s done and over with.” 

“Wanna talk about it?”  “Right now?” He asked incredulously.  “Well, yeah why not? Post nut clarity and all that.”  “You’re literally stuck on my – “ He cut himself off with a sigh. “You’re a weird one.”

“Yeah, I know. And you’re kinda grumpy, especially when you first wake up.”  He let out a laugh, it sounded genuine this time. His knot finally deflating, he slipped out of you gently so he could readjust the way you were laying so you were facing him. He pulled you closer, burying your face in his chest, resting his chin on your head. You could hear the telltale sound of his tail gently patting against the bed – a part of you wanted to point out that he did, in fact, do cute shit, but held your tongue. Instead you closed your eyes, letting the smile he couldn’t see spread over your features, relishing in his warmth, and the smell of his spiced cologne.  “Tell you what. Keep me around long enough and I might just tell you about the dream some day.” “Mmm and what if I keep you around forever?” His tail thumped harder at that question, a sign of his true feeling, it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  “Guess that remains to be seen.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “Go to sleep.” 

“Fine.” You conceded, too tired to really argue. A squeaky yawn escape you as you curled up into him, letting your eyes lid with sleep, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. 

[bookishgalaxies]

Hi! Can you do a five hargreeves x reader where the readers quiet but really good at hand to hand combat? If you don’t want to do it you don’t even have to respond

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤

☾☼✧☽ summary: thoughts on five hargreeves with an s/o who’s quiet but is killer at hand to hand combat.

☾☼✧☽ pairing: five hargreeves x gn!shy!reader

☾☼✧☽ type: head-cannons, not proofread

☾☼✧☽ warnings: fighting???

☾☼✧☽ a/n: love this request! Thank you so much!

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You spoke when spoken to, with the exceptions of conversation with Five Hargreeves, which were still very minimal

You two had only been “together” for a few months now and your brain was still getting used to forming full sentences while looking at him.

For awhile you and Five were only able to communicate through letters due to his work with the commission

After he stopped working for them, and started saving the world with his siblings though, things were different

You most of the time kept to yourself when you weren’t helping the Hargreeves save the world

You would go out for smoothies with Viktor or help Allison with Claire occasionally.

And you could become quite chatty with them, but not Five

He hadn’t meant to assume that since you didn’t talk much, you were shy, and therefor timid in physical fighting situations

It just kind of clicked in his mind like that without him realizing.

So when you two were out one day at the doughnut shop getting him a black coffee and you whatever you normally get

You weren’t expecting a surprise attack from the Commission

You had both been sitting across from each other in a booth by the window

Letting Five talk quietly about what his next plan was and nodding your head while smiling kindly

Enjoying the view of how he looked in the afternoon sun

Then, glass shattered, and in an instant you were up and headed towards the sound.

Five teleported across the shop as you landed a good punch across the agents face.

Exchanging punches and strikes, you took him down quite quickly.

Moving on to the next few, you took them out under ten seconds.

Five was so shocked he stood by, mouth agape.

Looking up at his surprised look, you stood with knocked out bodies around you, breathing heavily and looking at him.

“I didn’t know you could…..” he trailed off

“You never asked.” You responded

“Touché.”

Needless to say, he never underestimated you again.

And actually felt himself develop a healthy fear of you.

Pretty AND deadly…...

He never needed to get on your bad side, he’d be screwed

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thank you so much for reading !!

remember to stay safe and hydrated !!

[thewulf]

The Analyst's Arrival || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Hi can I request a hotch x bau reader? I'm sure its been done before but I just love your hotch fics!! When Strauss hires the reader without Aaron Hotchner's approval, tensions run high. Hotch is distant and a little mean, but the reader's unwavering positivity and kindness start to chip away at his walls... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 4.2k

TW: Yelling, gunshots (non wounded), general CM triggers

The BAU conference room hums quietly with the usual pre-meeting chatter. Derek flicks a crumpled paper ball at Spencer who is engrossed in his latest physics journal. While JJ shares weekend plans with Prentiss. The light mood does little to ease the stiffness in Aaron Hotchner’s posture as he stands at the head of the table with his folders organized neatly in front of him.

The door swings open and Erin Strauss steps in. It was a rare occurrence that immediately draws everyone’s attention. You follow behind her, your confident stride belying the curious glances you receive from the team.

"Good morning, everyone," Strauss begins. Her voice pulling the room into a focused silence. "I’d like you to meet Agent Y/N L/N. She’s joining us from the NYPD where she served in the Major Crimes unit. Agent L/N has a sharp analytical mind and extensive field experience which I’m confident will be invaluable to our team."

Hotchner's eyes narrow slightly, not at you, but at the way Strauss seems to relish the surprise on his face. He had not been informed of this decision—a move that didn't just sidestep his authority but outright ignored it. A move he hated.

As polite smiles and nods pass around the room, Hotchner remains motionless. His gaze finally landing on you. You seem unaffected by the tension your presence has stirred as you returned his scrutiny with a polite, unwavering smile.

"I'm very excited to be here and look forward to working with each of you," you spoke. Your voice steady and warm. "I’ve heard only the best about the BAU team."

"Thank you Agent L/N," Strauss cuts in smoothly. "I’ll leave you in Agent Hotchner’s capable hands." With a final nod Strauss exits, the click of her heels echoing a stark finality to her departure.

There is a brief silence as you linger in the doorway. "Why don’t we get started then?" Hotchner says. His tone more a command than a suggestion. "Morgan, Reid, can you bring Agent L/N up to speed on the current case?"

As the team dives into the details of their latest unsolved case Hotch observes you. You listen intently, asking pertinent questions that demonstrate not just your understanding but your capability to dive right into the deep end. Despite his initial resistance he can't help but admit—albeit grudgingly—that you seem competent.

Yet as the meeting progresses Hotch feels a gnawing sense of irritation. It isn't directed at you, but at Strauss and the situation he’s been forced into. Watching you interact with his team, a part of him wants to see what you can do. To see if Strauss’s confidence in you is justified. But as the leader of the BAU and with walls built from years of leadership, admitting that will take a bit more than just a good first impression.

In the days following your introduction the BAU team falls into a familiar rhythm with you, gradually weaving you into the fabric of their tightly knit group. Spencer shares book recommendations, curious about your interests. While Morgan teases lightly, testing your sense of humor. Prentiss and JJ involve you in their lunch outings often asking about your experiences with the NYPD.

However, Hotchner maintains a professional distance. During briefings he is succinct, his interactions with you strictly businesslike. His questions about your reports are pointed and perhaps harsher than necessary. You sense his doubt. Not just in his words but in the lingering looks that question your conclusions or the slight frown when you speak up during meetings.

One afternoon you're updating the team on a profile you've been developing. "Based on the victimology the unsub is likely someone with a deep-seated resentment towards authority figures. Possibly stemming from a troubled childhood," you explain as you clicked through the presentation slides.

"Seems like a stretch without more evidence," Hotchner interrupts abruptly. His critique hangs in the air. Heavier than the typical scrutiny profiles usually receive. You notice a brief exchange of looks among the team, but they remain silent.

Despite this you maintain your composure, responding calmly. "I'll dive deeper into the case files and see if I can substantiate that with more specific behaviors," you assure him with a nod that's meant to show both your respect for his experience and your confidence in your own skills.

As you work later in the quiet of the empty briefing room refining your profile, Hotchner watches from his office. The light from his desk lamp casts a long shadow and his expression is unreadable. The easy acceptance from others contrasts starkly with his skepticism and it's clear that you have yet to earn his trust.

One evening as you're the last two in the office Hotchner approaches your desk with his usual resolve towards you. "Agent L/N, I want our profiles to be watertight. I can't have assumptions without solid evidence," he states. His voice low and firm.

"I understand, sir," you reply, meeting his gaze. "I appreciate your guidance. I'm here to learn and contribute as effectively as I can."

There's a pause, a moment where something unspoken passes between you. Perhaps it's the acknowledgment of your dedication, or maybe it's Hotchner wrestling with his own reluctance to accept change. He nods curtly and leaves you to your work.

Despite the cold front you don't let it dampen your spirit. Instead, you double down on your efforts, pouring over case files late into the night. You were determined to prove your worth not just to Hotchner, but to yourself. Your positivity and commitment slowly chip away at the team's initial reservations and even though Hotchner remains distant you start to feel like a part of the BAU family.

As weeks pass your insights during case reviews become sharper. Your suggestions more intuitive. The team begins to rely on your judgment. They sought out your opinion, and slowly, very slowly, you notice a thaw in Hotchner's demeanor—a nod here, a less critical question there.

But the wall he has built around him isn't one to crumble quickly and you know that gaining Hotchner's full trust will be a marathon, not a sprint. Still, your unwavering kindness and the diligent sparkle in your eyes during every case discussion continue to sow seeds of change. Even in the stony ground of Hotch’s reserved heart.

A couple of weeks later and Hotch finally decides you’re ready to join the team in the field instead of staying behind with Penelope. Not that you didn’t like working with her you were just craving to do what you were hired to do.

The air is thick with tension as the BAU team arrives at the suspected hideout of the unsub at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It's late, the darkness only broken by the beams of flashlights and the occasional flicker of police sirens in the distance. Hotchner's orders are clear and concise. His voice a calm command over the sound of rustling tactical gear.

"Reid, Y/N, you're with me. Morgan, Prentiss, take the east side. Radio if you make contact. Everyone, stay sharp," Hotchner instructs. His eyes scanning the perimeter before leading you and Reid towards the main entrance.

The warehouse is a labyrinth of shadows and echoing spaces. A place that seems to absorb sound and light alike. You follow Hotch with your senses heightened every training you’ve undergone pulsing through your veins. As you navigate through a maze of crates and discarded machinery, a noise—a soft scuffle, almost imperceptible—catches your attention. You signal to Hotchner and Reid pointing towards a dark corridor off to the left.

"Stay here, cover us," Hotchner whispers. His gun raised as he edges toward the sound with Reid close behind.

You position yourself with your back to a solid surface, gun aimed at the corridor. Your mind races through various scenarios, but nothing prepares you for the sight of a figure lunging out of the shadows. Heading straight for Reid with a knife glinting in the dim light.

Without a moment's hesitation you break cover, tackling Reid out of the knife’s path. The impact sends you both sprawling to the ground just as Hotchner turns, firing off two quick shots. The unsub goes down, a groan echoing off the walls.

"Reid, you okay?" Hotchner is immediately by your side. His usual stoic demeanor replaced by concern.

"Yeah, thanks to Y/N," Reid gasps. His eyes wide with the adrenaline of the near miss.

Hotchner turns to you. His expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly his features soften, the corners of his eyes crinkling not with frustration, but something akin to gratitude. "Good work, Agent L/N. That was quick thinking."

Your heart pounds not just from the action but also from Hotchner's acknowledgment. "Just doing my job, sir," you manage to choke out though the gravity of the moment isn't lost on you.

As the team secures the scene and paramedics check over everyone Hotchner keeps glancing your way, his gaze lingering longer than usual. In those looks there’s a new respect, perhaps even a reassessment of his earlier doubts about you.

Later, as the team debriefs back at the BAU, Hotch publicly commends your actions. "Agent L/N’s instincts and bravery tonight might have saved Dr. Reid’s life and potentially others. Excellent work."

The team’s applause is warm, genuine, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride. More than the praise it’s Hotchner’s nod of respect towards you that marks a significant shift. It's a turning point not just in your relationship with him but in your place within the team. Your actions have not only proven your worth, but they’ve begun to dismantle the walls Hotchner had built around himself, brick by brick.

In the weeks following the intense warehouse operation the dynamic within the BAU team subtly shifts. You are no longer just the new agent. You have proven yourself as a vital part of the team. Hotchner notices the change not only in how the team interacts with you but also in his own perceptions.

One crisp autumn morning as the trees outside the Quantico offices burst with gold and russet hues, Hotchner finds himself observing you from across the bullpen. You’re assisting Morgan with recalibrating the physical training program for new recruits. The ease with which you handle the task, balancing Morgan’s strength with strategic insights, does not go unnoticed by Hotchner. There's a gentleness mixed with competence in your approach. A stark contrast to the decisive action you displayed in the field.

Later that day, you offer to stay late to help Morgan review the training schedules, ensuring they are optimized for the team’s needs. Garcia joins in eager to add her tech-savvy touch. Hotchner overhears laughter from the office you’re sharing, a sound that is light and genuine, making him pause as he packs up for the night. The sound of friendship and shared effort makes the BAU feel more like a tight nit family and he realizes you are a big part of that shift.

During a team briefing the following week Hotch openly seeks your opinion on the psychological conditioning aspects of the training program. As you outline your thoughts by citing recent research and adaptive training methods he listens intently. The team watches this interaction, clearly seeing Hotchner’s respect for you which influences their own views.

When the team encounters a critical situation with a string of high intensity raids you suggest an innovative tactical maneuver that saves valuable time and minimizes risk. Watching you handle the pressure with composed determination Hotch feels a significant shift within himself—a deep-seated respect for your skills and a growing admiration for your resilience.

It’s not just your professional competence that reshapes his thoughts but also your empathy and dedication. You take the time to ensure that the team is not only prepared physically but supported mentally. A role that enriches the team in ways Hotchner hadn't anticipated.

One evening as everyone is about to leave you pass by Hotchner’s office. He calls you in, an impromptu gesture that surprises even him. “Agent L/N,” he begins, his voice reflecting a mix of professional respect and something more tentative. “I’ve been meaning to say… your work, especially in these past weeks, has been exemplary. I initially misjudged you and I want you to know I appreciate what you bring to the team.”

Your response is a nod accompanied by a warm smile, but his words catch you off guard and a faint blush colors your cheeks. “Thank you, sir. I’m just glad to be here, and I really truly appreciate your guidance.”

It's then, in that quiet moment, as the setting sun casts a warm glow through his office window highlighting the blush on your face and the sincerity in your eyes that Hotchner sees something he hadn't fully allowed himself to recognize before. The softness of the light, the quiet dignity with which you accept his praise and the undeniable warmth of your smile strike him profoundly.

For a brief moment Hotchner is silent, observing you not just as a capable agent but as a person whose presence has subtly but indelibly changed the fabric of the team—and his own perceptions. The realization that he finds you beautiful, in more ways than one, surfaces quietly but powerfully in his mind. This acknowledgment isn't just about your physical appearance but encompasses the entirety of your influence on him and the team.

As you leave his office with a certain lightness in your step. The thoughtful look on Hotchner's face mark a turning point. It's a small almost imperceptible moment, but it’s one where personal and professional lines blur slightly, hinting at deeper unspoken possibilities that neither of you may yet fully understand.

The next case up had been grueling with long hours and high stakes that left the entire team feeling the weight of their responsibilities. As the post-case debrief wraps up in the BAU conference room the team disperses, leaving behind a palpable relief mixed with the usual fatigue. But as everyone else heads out to grasp at some much-needed rest, Hotchner lingers at the conference table organizing his notes with more care than perhaps necessary.

Seeing you gathering your belongings slowly he finds the resolve to address the change he's felt brewing within him. "Agent L/N, could I have a moment?" he asks. His voice much softer than usual.

You nod, curious, setting your bag down and returning to the table. The room is quiet now, lit only by the dim lights left on for the night shift.

Hotchner takes a deep breath, his demeanor uncharacteristically open. "I owe you an apology," he starts. His eyes meeting yours. "When you first joined the team, I was... less than welcoming. I questioned your capabilities. Not because of any fault in your record or your behavior, but because I was resistant to the change you represented."

You listen, surprised by his candor, as he continues, "I've always insisted on control, on predictability. After everything I’ve been through, it seemed like the only way to protect the team, to protect my family from further loss. But I've come to realize that I was protecting myself more than anyone."

Hotchner pauses. His gaze shifting away momentarily before returning to yours, more intense, more vulnerable. "You’ve brought a new perspective to the team, a resilience and warmth that I didn't know we needed. You've saved lives, not just through your actions in the field but by being who you are. And...” he hesitates, the next words clearly weighing heavily on him, “and I find myself grateful, not just for your contributions to the team, but for the light you've brought into my life."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. The formal barriers between you melting away in the quiet honesty of the moment. “Thank you, Hotch," you respond, your voice low. You were touched by his admission. "I’ve always admired your dedication and getting to see this side of you, it means a lot."

Hotchner nods with a slight smile breaking through his usual reserve. "I guess what I’m really trying to say is, I would like to... explore this, whatever this is, with you. If you’re open to it," he adds quickly, almost awkwardly.

As the room quiets and you acknowledge Aaron Hotchner’s feelings. Even though your elated you feel that pit of dread form in your stomach. Aaron was your superior… a shadow of concern passes over your face, quickly deepening into visible anxiety. "Hotch," you start, your voice carrying a mix of hope and worry that quickly spirals into panic. "What about Strauss? If things change between us... I mean, if we do this, couldn’t it really complicate things? What if it impacts the team, or your position, or—"

Seeing your distress, Hotchner steps closer. His expression softening significantly as he picks up on your escalating fears. "Hey," he interjects gently, his tone soothing. "Let’s just take a moment, okay?"

You pause, your breath shaky, caught up in the whirlwind of potential consequences that his words had unwittingly unleashed.

Hotchner reaches out slowly. He was giving you time to accept his comfort before his hands rest lightly on your shoulders. "We're not going to rush into anything," he assures you, his voice calm and steady. "Yes, there are risks, and you’re absolutely right to consider them. But we’re not in this alone. We have a team that supports us, and we have each other."

His words help, but it's the firm comforting presence of his hands, the warmth from his touch, that really begins to calm your racing thoughts. "We'll be careful," he continues. "We’ll make decisions together. I respect you too much to let this cause you any distress. If it ever becomes too much, we stop and we stay professional. That’s a promise."

Your breathing slows, steadied by his reassurances. Looking into his eyes you find a sincere commitment there. A steadiness that you’ve always admired in him now directed towards nurturing whatever might grow between you.

Seeing that you’re still tense, Hotchner does something he rarely does—he pulls you gently into a hug. It’s a careful gesture making sure to respect the boundaries but offering comfort. "We’ll handle whatever comes, together," he murmurs. "You're not in this alone."

The hug was unexpected but deeply comforting. It helps to dissolve the last of your apprehensions. You let out a slow breath, allowing yourself to lean into the embrace. You felt a sense of safety in his support.

"Thank you, Hotch," you manage to say with your voice muffled slightly against his shoulder. "I needed to hear that. One step at a time. I can do that."

"One step at a time," he confirms. Giving you a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to respect your space. "We have all the time we need."

As you both leave the conference room, your steps feel lighter. The burden of immediate decisions lifted. With Hotch’s support you feel ready to face whatever challenges might come knowing that not just the weight of the case, but also the weight of new possibilities could be shared.

In the weeks that follow your relationship with Hotchner develops quietly but deeply. Both of you are cautious, acutely aware of the professional boundaries that must be maintained in the intense environment of the BAU. Yet outside of those walls, in the small, stolen moments you find together, a new world seems to unfold. A world where you can be just Aaron and Y/N, not agents with burdens too heavy to bear alone.

You start with simple coffee dates after long shifts where the conversation drifts from case debriefs to shared interests in literature and quiet confessions about your lives outside the FBI. These moments are a revelation, filled with laughter and soft looks that linger longer than necessary. They are moments that stitch the fabric of your relationship tighter with every thread of shared vulnerability and joy.

Aaron, who has always been guarded with his emotions, finds in you an understanding ear and a comforting presence. You learn about his son, Jack, about the painful loss of his wife, and how these experiences shaped him, not just as an agent but as a man who fiercely protects those he loves. Your empathy and gentle encouragement help him navigate the lingering shadows of his past. Allowing him to embrace the possibility of happiness again.

For you, Aaron becomes the person you didn’t know you needed in his strength. His steadfast nature and unyielding integrity inspire you, guiding you through the complexities of your role within the BAU. His belief in your abilities boosts your confidence and his support becomes your anchor in the turbulent sea of your demanding careers.

Together you navigate the highs and lows of life at the BAU. After particularly harrowing cases it’s Aaron who helps you decompress by taking long walks by the lake near your apartment or simply sitting together in comfortable silence. And it’s you who brings light into his evenings with Jack making sure to join them for movie nights and slowly becoming part of the family he holds dear.

The relationship does not go unnoticed by the team but the respect you both maintain at work ensures that your personal lives enrich your professionalism rather than detract from it. Your colleagues see the subtle changes—how Aaron smiles a bit more, how you’re both more relaxed despite the demands of your job.

After a few months of dating, you and Aaron walk hand in hand along the quiet paths of a nearby park, he stops, pulling you close. The city lights cast a soft glow around you, and the world feels like it’s holding its breath. "Y/N, these past months have shown me something I hadn’t dared to hope for," he says, his voice low and full of emotion. "That it’s possible to find light even in the darkest places. You’ve brought that light into my life."

You smile while reaching up to touch his face gently. "And you’ve shown me that strength isn’t just about holding up the world on your own, but knowing when to share the load," you reply, your heart full. "I love you, Aaron."

"I love you too, Y/N," he whispers, and as he leans down to kiss you, it feels like a promise. A promise of a future together where love and understanding can thrive amidst the chaos of the life you’ve chosen.

As autumn turns into winter the relationship between you and Aaron blooms amidst the frosty edges of the season, weaving warmth into the crisp air around you. Your love, quiet but profound, becomes the silent strength that both of you draw from during the demanding days at the BAU.

One chilly December evening after a usually tough case that had stretched your limits and tested your resilience, Aaron plans something special to celebrate not just the end of the case but the life you are building together. When you arrive at his house after the long day, you find the living room transformed into a cozy winter wonderland. It was complete with soft blankets, flickering candles, and a fireplace that crackles with warmth.

Jack was at a sleepover and Aaron greets you at the door with a gentle smile dressed in a comfortable sweater that makes him look homier than ever. "I thought we could use a quiet night in," he smiles while leading you into the room.

The table is set with your favorite foods and there’s a gentle playlist humming through the speakers filled with songs that have slowly become 'yours'. Aaron pulls out a chair for you, his manners impeccable as always, but his eyes are shining with a joy that is purely personal. As you eat, the conversation flows easily—plans for the holiday, funny anecdotes from the day, shared dreams for the future. After dinner Aaron leads you to the couch where a blanket is draped invitingly. He sits beside you pulling you close into his side, and you nestle against him feeling the steady beat of his heart.

“Y/N,” Aaron murmurs, his voice soft in the quiet of the room, “when I think about all we’ve been through, I realize every moment led me right here, to this. To us. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

You look up at him touched by the sincerity in his voice. “And I can’t imagine a better person to share my life with,” you reply. Your hand finding his. “You make everything... brighter. More beautiful.”

Aaron smiles, his gaze tender. “I have something for you,” he says while reaching into his pocket to pull out a small, exquisitely wrapped box. He opens it to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a pendant that glimmers softly in the firelight—a compass.

“It’s to remind us that no matter where we go or what cases we face, we’ll always find our way back to each other,” he explains. His fingers brushing lightly over the pendant before fastening it around your neck.

You touch the pendant overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gift. “It’s perfect, Aaron. Just like this night, like this.”

He leans in with his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is slow and sweet, a seal over promises made and kept. The rest of the evening passes in gentle laughter, shared kisses, and dreams whispered between the folds of blankets under the watchful glow of firelight and twinkling stars outside your window.

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