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deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist · 11 months ago

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Sorry about that – had a family emergency and then life kind of imploded, thank you for reminding me that you had posted a chapter, because whenever you post the next one, I’d be thoroughly confused and lost. And this was a doozy of a chapter, definitely not to be missed!

“You were married to your job, could even get obsessive with it at times, and that would just have to be enough to sustain you. Besides, after your last relationship, you almost tended to prefer it that way.” Damn, do I feel seen! “Better. Still needs work, but better.” made me laugh out loud, as did his blush with the song in the radio!

Spot on with Beau checking her out before the date - my family is all cops and firefighters, anytime any one of us went on a date, it was a guarantee at least one person in the family did a background check and would waive any red flags they discovered like a semaphore competition. I’m a nurse – like the reader, sometimes we just need quiet to be and to process, she is absolutely right. And the religious question would have given me pause, too - spiritual is fine, hyper, religious, no matter what religion, is a red flag all on its own. She fielded the question beautifully, as she did with the marriage/kids question.

I hate that the thing with Jenny took him out of the running in her mind, but I really respect her not using Beau as a one night stand, either. And “Your heart cracked slightly when he picked up your hand, kissing the back of it in a manner that you’d only seen in movies.” Yes, yes it did - I want to shake her until her teeth rattle, give Beau a chance! But I understand her reasoning, even if I don’t like it.

Dylan was creepy AF - great job on the intense interrogation and her discussion with Jack. Taylor is a troublesome ass, “He certainly gave your middle finger a daily workout, that’s one thing you could say for him.” made me chuckle - keep building that HR complaint, arsehole. I have a feeling he’s going to be trouble down the road. And them getting called to the Chief’s office, and to find Hoyt there? Yikes! What an intriguing and intense chapter. Great job! I can’t wait to see what happens next.

The Ghosts Are Coming For You Chapter 2 - Beau Arlen x Reader

Pairing: Beau x Female!Reader; Beau x Female!Detective!Reader

A/N: Sorry this took so long but I'm a pita sometimes when it comes to the mapping out process and setups. A huge thank you to my beta, Em, for all of the brainstorming sessions we had where she would listen to me rant and rave about this chapter as I beat it into shape like a pillow under your head that won't cooperate. She unfortunately didn't have time to do the final process of beta'ing this time around but she did spend a lot of time helping me mold this into what it is so I want to thank her for that. Again, apologies for another long chapter. I did contemplate splitting this into two shorter chapters but in the end, it felt right to keep it altogether for the setup's sake. Future chapters will not nearly be this long. Thanks for sticking with me on this ride. Hope this came out okay.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Songs mentioned in the chapter: Knockin' Boots by Luke Bryan; I'd Love To Lay You Down by Conway Twitty

Disclaimer: Let me just say up front, I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Also, this story is going to take place over a few months. Some things might be delayed or appear illogical to not have been thought of before they take place in the timeline, but it’s purely for story purposes.

Tl;dr: I made shit up.

Warnings: mentions of deaths/murders; mentions of abusive relationship; mentions of emotional/psychological, physical, and verbal abuse; angst; a little sexual tension; a little flirting/teasing

Word Count: 16k+

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @superrey; @fromcaintodean; @stoneyggirl2; @lacilou; @zepskies; @perpetualabsurdity; @deansbbyx; @syrma-sensei; @globetrotter28; @roseblue373; @angelbabyyy99; @hobby27

Beau Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @birdiellie; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303

You glanced at yourself one more time in the mirror of the bathroom at the precinct, smoothing down your dress and checking your make-up one last time. You and Jack had just pulled up to the station no more than half an hour ago.

You’d been called out on another case earlier in the day. Thankfully, this one didn’t appear to be connected to the one from this morning. Instead, it had been a home invasion that had gone badly and the homeowners had been found shot to death, by their college-aged daughter who had been returning home from a late night out. You tried to put the traumatized girl and the victims out of your mind, but you knew the former’s heart-wrenching sobs were just as likely to haunt you as much as the images of her dead parents would. You silently promised her exactly what you promised every other loved one in the cases you worked: you’d do everything you could to find the ones responsible and put them away for good. You just hoped you could deliver in this case, and that it hopefully might bring some small measure of peace for the young girl whose parents were now gone and who she had to make funeral arrangements for. Thankfully, her aunt lived nearby so the woman had been on the scene almost as soon as the responding officer had been. You were relieved that the daughter wouldn’t have to face all of this alone.

You took a deep breath and stared at your reflection, forcing yourself to change thought tracks and focus on your upcoming date with the County’s sheriff. Your nerves were slightly on edge; you hadn’t been on a date since you had been living in New York. Not a real date, anyway. Jack’s girlfriend, Cecilia, had kindly tried to set you up a couple of times with single guys she knew in the first couple of months you’d been here, but both blind dates had been full blown disasters. Your heart hadn’t really been in it, anyway, and you were convinced that you just weren’t destined for love or family or any of those white picket fence dreams everyone else had. You were married to your job, could even get obsessive with it at times, and that would just have to be enough to sustain you. Besides, after your last relationship, you almost tended to prefer it that way.

You just hoped this dinner went well, even if it didn’t end up really going anywhere. You could do with a friend around here, someone other than Jack, who you could maybe meet up and have a beer with every now and then. Someone who understood the job and wouldn’t take it personally if you had to cancel last minute because you got a call you had to respond to. Someone who could help distract you from the daily horrors that plagued your mind and maybe lighten up your darker times. Plus, you could now have a contact in the Sheriff’s department if you ever needed to reach out for anything relating to a case.

And even if things got awkward, at least you could have a drink and you had a very handsome sheriff to feast your eyes on. You’d never admit it to him but the cowboy thing really worked for him and it did do it for you a little. Though you sincerely hoped he left the Stetson at home this time.

There were many reasons to look forward to this dinner, and barely any to dread it. You swore to yourself that you would have a good time, no matter what, and you would relax for the evening.

You did some last minute adjustments to your hair, blew out a breath, and left the bathroom. When you stepped into the squad room, you heard a wolf whistle coming from the corner desk. “Fuck off, Taylor.” You flipped the younger man the bird, ignored his commentary, and braced yourself when Jack turned around in his chair to face you.

“Nice.” Jack gave you an approving nod, taking in the soft waves of your hair, your simple floral-patterned dress, your light-handed make-up, and your appropriate length heels. “You got a hot date or something?” He teased.

“Shut up,” you muttered, making your way to your desk.

Your partner laughed, knowing from your response that he was right. “Cecilia is going to love this. Who’s the lucky guy?”

You bit your lip, packing your things into the purse you’d grabbed from your car earlier. You always kept an emergency bag of clothes and necessary items in your car; you had learned that a spare change of clothes and a toothbrush were good to keep on hand for those long nights you worked or for the occasional damage that was done to clothes you were wearing while on the job. This may be a smaller town and it may have a smaller budget, but thank God they had showers. They had saved you more than once, especially when it came to mud or…other things.

You glanced around the room and mumbled, “Sheriff Arlen.”

You knew Jack had heard you because his dark eyes were as wide as saucers. “Come again?”

“The sheriff.”

“But I thought he and Jenny Hoyt were—”

You glared over at him. “Well, apparently they’re not. He said as much when he asked me to dinner.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“So he asked you out at a murder scene,” Jack teased. “Sounds about right.”

The scowl that plastered itself onto your face would have terrified any other man. You reminded yourself that while you could probably kill him and make it look like an accident, that would be hard to do in a room full of seasoned homicide detectives who were sitting only a few feet from you. Not to mention, you’d need to find a new partner and there was no way in hell you were sharing a car with someone like Taylor every day. You’d go to prison first.

He held his hands up. “Kidding, kidding. I was kidding, Y/N. Come on.”

“Not funny.”

“It was. A little bit. Seeing as you’re always working. How else would he be able to ask?” When your glare didn’t let up any, he decided to ease up on you and cleared his throat. “You know, I was wondering why he was so chatty with you all of a sudden. Can’t say I blame him, though.” Jack inclined his head towards you. “When you clean up, you clean up nice.”

You gave him a look. “Thanks ever so much, Jack.” Whatever little confidence you’d managed to scrounge up in the bathroom before was now completely deflated. You knew you looked nice, but the little joke he’d made had taken the wind right out of your sails. Jack was just being Jack, you knew that; he meant no harm. He had no idea how close to home his words had actually hit. He was just ribbing you like always, no more than any of the other guys here did on a daily basis.

“Hey, I was trying to compliment you,” he laughed. “So where is he taking you?”

“A steakhouse in town. He said they serve the best ribeye in the county.”

He nodded in approval. “Nice. So this is like a real date, huh?”

“Think so.”

“You and the sheriff. Who would’ve thought?”

“Shh,” you hissed. “Keep your voice down.” At his questioning look, you added, “I don’t want anyone else knowing about this. If Taylor found out, he’d never shut up.” You could immediately see the flaw to your plan having Beau pick you up at your job. Guaranteed many people would see you and your coworkers, including Taylor, were bound to find out anyway.

“Well, I’m flattered you told me, I guess.”

“You should be,” you insisted, glancing towards the clock and seeing it was 7:30 on the dot. You grabbed your purse and started to make your way to the door, hating the way your heels clacked loudly against the floor.

“Have fun,” Jack called. “If you need me to pick you up, let me know.”

“Thanks,” you called back, flipping Taylor off again for good measure. The guy was now making actual barking sounds. You supposed you should be grateful that he hadn’t actually made his way over to you to try his cheap come-ons on you like usual.

“Oh, a word of advice.”

You stopped and turned back to Jack, who leaned a little closer in his chair towards you, keeping his voice low.

“If the handcuffs come out at some point, and knowing you they most likely will, make sure to keep the key nearby. You don’t want to have to call 911 because you left it on the dresser. That would be one embarrassing emergency call to make.” He smirked, shooting you a wink.

You placed a hand on your hip, glaring at your partner. “Darcy, how you continue to get laid on a regular basis is beyond me. Cecilia is a damn saint and someone should thank her for her service.”

The bastard had the nerve to laugh. “I do. Every single time.” His grin widened and you felt ill to your stomach.

Making a face, you waved a hand to dismiss him and turned back around. “Bye.”

“Remember,” Jack called. “Keep it nearby!”

You shook your head but didn’t respond, instead continuing your trek out to the parking lot.

Once you stepped outside, you did a quick scan of the area and found the man you were looking for. He was in a different car this time, a rust-colored truck that had definitely seen better days.

He had just turned to look at the entrance when he spotted you, eyes widening slightly. He hurried to get out of his car and began to approach you. You decided to meet him halfway, thankful there wasn’t really anyone milling around at that moment.

Before he could get a word out, you noticed the new look right away.

“You changed,” you accused.

“So did you,” he pointed out, his eyes roving over you.

You nervously smoothed down the skirt of your dress with your fingers. “I wasn’t sure if there was a dress code where we were going. I should have asked. Is this okay?”

He nodded, a slow smile forming on his face. “More than okay. You look amazing,” he breathed.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, you look great, too.” You took him in and definitely liked what you saw. No hat, a button-down that hugged him in all the right places, jeans, short brown wavy hair that looked to be the right length for you to run your fingers through (among other things), a touched up beard from earlier, and a warm grin. “So you put the cowboy away.”

He chuckled and you could swear you could see a faint pink color dusting his cheeks, though it wasn’t easy to tell in this light. “A little bit.” He gestured towards his cowboy boots, making you let out a quiet laugh.

“I like it.” You gave him a kind smile; you truly did like what you saw.

His smile grew and he held out an arm in invitation. “Shall we, little lady?”

“Oh no, you didn’t.”

Chuckling once more, he lowered his arm and moved closer. “Too much?”

“Way too much.”

This time, he held out his hand to you in offering, and tried again, giving you his most charming smile. “Ready, Beautiful?”

Choosing to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat, you placed your hand in his and gave him a nod of approval. “Better. Still needs work, but better.” You could feel the warmth of his skin seeping into yours and you almost wanted to intertwine your fingers with his to feel more of it, but that would be too forward of you and might make things awkward. You hadn’t even gone on the date yet. So instead, you smiled when you felt the strength of his grip and let him lead you wherever he intended to go.

He started towards the truck. “Already, you are one tough woman to please. I hope this isn’t a sign of how the rest of our night will go,” he quipped.

“Depends on how hard you work to please me.”

His eyes snapped to yours and seeing your teasing grin, he shook his head, looking away, clearly amused. “I really got myself into something here, didn't I?”

“You did,” you laughed.

“You know, they say you East Coast girls can be difficult to satisfy.” You noticed the twang purposely deepen as he teased you back.

Once you reached the car, he opened your door for you. “You know, they say you Texan cowboys never met a challenge you didn’t like.” You moved past him, not missing the smirk on his face and the shake of his head, and slipped into the passenger seat. He closed your door for you and you rearranged the skirt of your dress by the time he joined you inside.

He turned a smile on you. “Ready?”

You returned it and gave him a nod after having buckled your seat belt. “Ready.”

You watched as his smile broadened and he started up the car, thinking this date was already going better than the other two you’d had since coming here.

It should have hit you that you’d allowed him to pick you up rather than insisting on meeting him at the restaurant. This way in case things turned out as they had both previous times, you had an easy escape should it be needed. But there was something about the sheriff that had you throwing most of your caution to the wind for the evening. Something just so inviting, as if he were the sun and you wanted to be in his orbit, no matter how temporary it might be.

Beau turned the radio on and Luke Bryan’s voice carried from the speakers and echoed throughout the car. “Boots need knockin’, knockin’ boots, knockin’ boots, me and you, oh” You saw his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink as he quickly changed the station, clearing his throat quietly. When Conway Twitty’s voice floated through with “But I won’t talk of starry skies or moonlight on the ground I’ll come right out and tell you I’d just love to lay you down”, he immediately turned to another station, his shoulders relaxing slightly when it was apparent a commercial was playing. You bit into your lip, trying to hide a smile underneath your hand as best you could until he turned to look at you.

He let out a nervous chuckle. “Maybe you should pick the music.”

You leaned forward, never taking your eyes off of him, and switched the radio off.

“Good choice,” he laughed. “Though I warn you, I’ve been known to be a bit of a talker. Silences and I don’t get along too well, or so I’ve been told.” He gave you a sheepish grin.

“Good.” You smiled and got comfortable. “I want to hear all about the cowboy from Texas who ended up as a sheriff in Montana,” you teased.

He watched you for a moment, his grin softening into a smile, and then he laughed and nodded, turning back to the road. “Copy that.” You hadn’t even pulled away from the curb before he launched into his first story of the night.

“What made you want to become a homicide detective?” Beau asked.

There it was. One of the three questions you hated being asked, especially on a date. True, when you go on a date, you’re supposed to talk and get to know one another, but sometimes you wished you could skip this part of the conversation altogether. That and anything about your personal and professional life back East. But you supposed that wasn’t feasible and it was unfair to the person asking, so you usually found yourself answering, and by answering you typically meant that you evaded the questions at all costs.

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about work.” You took a sip of your wine, quickly glancing around. The steakhouse he had taken you to was nice. It was a little more packed than you anticipated for a Thursday night, in these parts anyway, but the ambience was perfect and you had to admit that the sheriff had chosen well. He had insisted on pulling your chair out for you, which was a nice touch. He had even opened the car door for you, too, upon your arrival, holding a hand up to stop the parking attendant from approaching you while thanking him.

By the time you both had gotten to the restaurant, you had learned that Beau had a younger brother who he was very fond of, and that he had initially retired from law enforcement but then had been pulled out of it by one phone call from his injured predecessor. Beau hadn’t been lying; he was a talker. Surprisingly, you enjoyed that fact about him. He could switch gears and talk about any topic, regale you with stories that were entertaining and helped you learn more about him. Some might think he enjoyed going on about himself but you could see that wasn’t the case. He used his affinity for talking to try to connect to those around him. He was always looking for common ground and a way to make you feel comfortable. He was open and gregarious, almost warm you would say, so the person he was talking to would feel at ease. You instantly liked that about him.

Once you were led to your table, you both quickly put in an order for drinks: a beer for him and a glass of red wine for you. You kind of liked it when he admitted he wasn’t much of a wine drinker and you might have joined him for that beer if you hadn’t been nervous. Beau had then asked if it was okay if he could order for both of you, swearing by his choice of entree and that you would love it, and you had happily agreed, more than impressed that he had asked first.

It didn’t take too long for Beau to start up more conversation between you and your nerves began to ease, with you realizing you really liked this guy. Sure, you were attracted to him — who wouldn’t be? But you also could see yourself with him outside of the bedroom, possibly taking in a movie, having more dinners like this one, and just spending time together. While you knew you still needed to get to know him better before thinking of anything like that, and you hadn’t been looking to start up an actual relationship anytime soon, your instincts told you to hold onto this one and not just casually throw him away for a roll in the sheets or two.

Plus, the man had been right; your food was delicious. All in all, this was definitely the best date you’d been on since being in Montana, no contest.

Now here you were, over drinks and a half eaten dinner, enjoying said meal when Beau decided to turn the tables on you. You supposed it was only fair; he had been doing a lot of the talking thus far and it was a date after all. You just wished he hadn’t started out the gate with that.

“We aren’t,” he confirmed, giving you a broad smile. “I’m just asking about your background because I want to know more about you.”

Well, damn, when he put it like that… “Fair enough,” you agreed.

“So, homicide. How’d that come about?”

You shrugged. “Seemed like a good move to make at the time.”

“And you don’t think it is anymore?”

You thought over for a moment how best to answer that one. Should you be honest and let him know where your head was at? Or should you keep it to yourself as you had been for the past year? One brief glance into his warm green eyes had your lips loosening. You got the feeling that whatever you told him about this subject would stay between you two. “You have to be made for the job.” You bit your lip and trailed your fingers over the rim of your wine glass. “I’m not sure that I am,” you admitted quietly.

“Seems like you are.”

You looked up to find him smiling kindly at you. “You saw me at one crime scene and you think I’m a natural?”

“Well, no, I mean, you were great. But uh,” You noticed a faint tinge of pink rising in his cheeks and he gave you a sheepish smile alongside a nervous chuckle. “I may have looked you up earlier.”

Ah, you had expected as much. You gave him an approving nod before taking a sip of wine. “A man who does his homework.”

“It’s just that you said you’d only been here for four months and with the department not having heard anything about the string of cases your precinct’s had in all that time…I felt I should look into it a little,” he attempted to explain, guilt beginning to line his expression. “It’s more about the case from this morning than you. After the last time, I just…”

You could see he was trying to figure out how to finish that sentence but he didn’t need to. “It’s fine.” You waved your hand dismissively and sat back in your chair with wine in hand. “I looked into you, too,” you admitted. Something you usually did before a date anyway, but the sheriff had particularly piqued your curiosity.

His brows arched in surprise. “And?”

“You need to update your department photo on your website.”

“Never,” he swore, making you tilt your head and smile in amusement. After a moment, his grin faded and he glanced back down at his plate. “That can’t be the only thing you saw in your search.”

You debated on whether to tell him what you’d found. It obviously hadn’t affected your decision to go out with him tonight. There wasn’t a single officer in law enforcement that didn’t have a case in their past that haunted them, whether it had gone awry or it was that truly terrible. You knew that better than most. While you were curious about what you had seen, you didn’t need answers, not until he was ready to give them.

You carefully chose your words before responding. “I may have seen something about a case down in Houston that perhaps didn’t go as planned.”

Stiffly nodding, he began to cut into his meat. “Didn’t go as planned is a real nice way of putting it,” he mumbled before taking a bite.

You studied him as he chewed, noting the tension in his jaw that wasn’t just due to the action. You could understand that this appeared to be a topic that he didn’t like discussing. Once he swallowed, he took a sip of his beer, his eyes meeting yours. “You had no problem answering my question. I suppose it’s only fair that I should answer yours.”

Your brows furrowed as you pretended to be confused. “I don’t think I’ve gotten to ask a question yet.”

His features relaxed slightly and his smile started to return. You mirrored it and he let out a quiet chuckle as he self-consciously scratched at his eyebrow. “Yeah, I, uh…I do that a lot. Sorry. Hoyt always says I can be a real chatty one.”

Your jaw was the one tensing this time, at the mention of Hoyt, but you worked to cover it well by finishing the tiny amount of wine left in your glass. You had zero desire to be reminded of that pushy blonde from this morning. You signaled to your server for another glass and sat back, smiling. “I don’t mind it all that much.”

And that was the truth, you didn’t. Which was odd because most times after a long day like this one, you just wanted peace and quiet. And that’s what you had always looked for in someone, besides the other desired qualities someone had in a life partner — someone who could let you have that quiet, let it be comfortable between you and empty of expectations, even give your mind time to process everything from the day’s events. Someone who understood and didn’t take it personally, who didn’t cop an attitude if you didn’t want to rush right back out the door for a dinner hosted by your friends or to go to a family gathering or to a sporting event or concert down at Madison Square Garden. Someone who could just let you be during some of the tougher days in your career. As you had already observed, Beau’s conversation flowed freely but the best part was that it didn’t carry any requirements of your constant participation. You actually enjoyed some of the stories he’d regaled you with already and you liked how the banter between you was natural and easygoing. Even if you weren’t here on a date, you had a feeling that had you met him in another social setting, you would have enjoyed talking with him anyway. He just had this warm, light-hearted, and charismatic way about him that just invited you in and you had no choice but to want to be around him.

“It doesn’t annoy you?” Beau asked, dubious. “It’s annoyed every other woman in my life so far.”

You shook your head and shrugged. “Sounds like that’s their loss then.” You gave an appreciative smile to the server who delivered your new glass of wine and held it out to Beau. “And their loss is my gain.”

Beau’s gaze was intent on you and his grin melted into the smirk that had first made an appearance when he’d asked you out. “Both our gain,” he murmured, lifting his pint glass to meet your glass in a soft clink. Neither of you looked away as you both drank and that familiar flip feeling was back in your stomach.

“So.” You quietly cleared your throat after placing your glass down, forcing your gaze back on the steak you were trying to cut into while also attempting to rein yourself back in. If you weren’t careful, you might just ask him to skip dinner altogether and get straight to dessert…at your place. “You looked into me. Any questions?” You braced yourself, expecting the other two questions you dreaded: about the infamous serial killer case you’d been involved in back East that he had obviously read up on, or worse, your romantic history.

“Just one.” Your eyes flicked to his and you found him giving you that charming smile once more. “Are you religious?”

Your brows furrowed slightly, wondering where that had come from. A little part of you was dismayed at the question, hoping he wasn’t one of those guys. There was nothing wrong with being religious of course, but it wasn’t your thing. Back in New York when you had been patrolling the streets in uniform, you had gone on a date with a friend of a friend. By the end of said date, you were fielding questions about your sexual history, if you were willing to turn away from sin, and what you would be willing to do to avoid eternal damnation of your soul because you were a woman and a whore (his words, not yours). He had even tried to slip a pocket Bible into your purse without your knowledge before you hurried out of the building, telling yourself that you were done with blind dates forevermore. And you had been, though Cecilia had managed to talk you back into them once you got here (but you’d made your ‘absolutely no exceptions’ rule known before she did). But then of course, the two she’d set you up on pretty much closed out that option for you permanently.

With Beau, you hadn’t gotten that religious vibe from him but you also hadn’t known him all that long. Disappointment radiated throughout your chest. Perhaps you would be calling Jack for a ride after all. “No. Why?”

He gestured towards your neck and you glanced down, realizing what he was focused on. The immediate relief swept through you and you discreetly let out a breath. “It’s pretty,” he reassured. “I just thought…maybe…”

You maneuvered the cross pendant between your fingers and smiled down at it. You always wore it and it hadn’t even entered your mind that it might come up in conversation. When you had checked yourself over in the mirror earlier at the station, you didn’t even give it a second thought when you saw it, sitting around your neck, shining brightly for all to see. It was just a part of you at this point, like another limb, that you barely paid any notice to. Unless you sought it out like you had at your first crime scene of the day this morning. “It was a gift.”

You glanced up to find Beau nodding. “Oh. So, not religious then?”

“Not religious,” you confirmed. “More…spiritual.” You turned your smile onto him. “Maybe,” you added as a quick afterthought.

His eyes were focused on you, warm as could be, and his smile echoed that warmth. “Same, actually.”

More relief flooded through you as you folded your arms on the table, pushing your plate away slightly. You were still eating but you needed your stomach to settle a little first from the flip-flopping it just did before you continued. “Sometimes with this job, it’s hard to be a believer, you know?”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “Sure is sometimes.” He began to cut another piece of his steak. “A gift, huh? Who from?” He swallowed and then his eyes widened slightly. “I mean, only if it’s okay for me to ask that. Shit, sorry,” he laughed nervously at himself. “I am really bad at this. It’s, uh…it’s been a while.”

“Me too,” you reassured him with a smile, relieved to hear it. “I’m not that much better but I’m pretty sure this is what we’re supposed to be doing. Asking questions, getting to know one another…”

“Good point. Well, in getting to know one another,” He appeared serious all of a sudden and you noticed a little apprehension that hadn’t been there before. “I should tell you that I’ve been married before.”

That slightly surprised you, more from the topics being changed so quickly than the revelation. It was something you already knew thanks to your look into him earlier, but it had been a brief mention in everything you read. You were waiting for him to bring it up and now that he had, you were curious as to what heralded the end of his marriage and just how long ago it had been considering the Houston case had only been a few years ago and he had still been married then. You also wondered just how long he had been married.

“And I also have a teenage daughter.”

You kept your expression even and gave him a slow nod. So, that long then.

Beau cleared his throat nervously. “Her mom and I split up a few years back. They came up here and I followed them. I didn’t want to be too far from my little girl. But, some months back, she and her mom moved back down to Houston.” His expression darkened for a moment before it cleared and he gave you a nervous smile.

Your brows drew together. You could understand his moving up here to be close to his daughter; that was admirable even. Though when they moved back to Texas, Beau didn’t follow them this time? There was definitely a story there.

He was studying you, most likely trying to ascertain if this was a dealbreaker for you. You lifted a bite of steak on your fork and asked, “How old is your daughter?” When you placed the meat inside your mouth and began to chew, you noticed the relief sweeping through his expression.

“Seventeen.” He gave you a wide smile, pride shining in his green eyes.

“Wow. She’s almost out of high school.”

That smile grew even bigger if it were possible. You couldn’t help but mirror it; it was nice to see a father be proud of his daughter. It wasn’t exactly something you experienced yourself growing up.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Hard to believe. Em told me today that she and her mom are going to look at the University of Houston this weekend. My little girl is talking about going to college.” He shook his head. “Where the hell did the time go?” He murmured sadly, dropping his gaze to his glass in thought.

You gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. You imagined it must be hard not to be present for these important moments in his daughter’s life, especially considering what they’d been through. The serial killer case Jack, Anderson, and your Chief kept referring to turned out to be the same one you found out Beau and his department had been involved in. While one of the kidnapping victim’s names had not been disclosed to the media, the internal reports confirmed it for you: Beau’s daughter had been taken by the suspect. Thankfully, there had been a happy ending for all involved minus the killer. However, you still wondered why he hadn’t followed his family back home, especially after all of that. There had to be a reason he stayed (which you were currently grateful for) but you didn’t think it could be the job. It had to be something else but what that something else could be, you had no idea. You didn’t know his daughter obviously but seeing the sadness currently residing in his expression, you felt for him; you felt for them both.

Beau seemed to realize he had spaced out for a moment and quietly cleared his throat. He gave you a tiny smile but you could tell some of the light had gone out of it from before and his eyes weren’t as bright when they settled back on you. “Sorry. It just…” He made an explosion sound and gestured towards his head. “It still catches me off guard sometimes.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” You gave him a reassuring smile. You could see the gratitude staring back at you and you took another bite of your steak to give him another moment. He appeared to take your cue and did the same. When you were done chewing, you lifted up your glass to take another sip of wine. “It’s from a family.”

His brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

You gestured to your necklace. “It was given to me by the family of a victim. After I worked their case.”

You could see surprise and interest light up his eyes, but you appreciated that he didn’t immediately begin peppering you with questions. Instead, he smiled at you. “I’m sure they were grateful for everything you did for them.”

You affected a slow nod, your fingers immediately clasping onto your cross pendant as memories a part of you would rather forget began to play on a loop in your mind. You glanced out across the restaurant and Beau mercifully gave you a minute to get yourself together.

Eventually, you brought your attention back to the man sitting across from you, moving back into his chair and sighing in satisfaction. He had finished his dinner while you had been working to push certain images in your mind back into the box you locked everything from your job away in. “Best steak in the whole county. That with a beer at the end of a long day…never fails.”

“It is pretty good.” You had to agree; it was definitely the best steak you’d had since moving here.

He seemed pleased at that. “Though, I may need to get some steps in before we leave.” He gestured towards his body. “I have a figure to maintain.”

You could see the teasing in his gaze and you decided to tease him back. “From what I can see, you don’t have all that much that you need to maintain. But, if you really want to work the calories off.” You gave him your best seductive smirk. “I can think of a few ways to help with that.”

As you expected, the shade of his eyes darkened slightly and his smile melted into that familiar smirk. “Do you now?”

You kept your gaze locked on his as you picked up your wine, finishing it in one long swallow, before placing the glass back down and licking the last remnants from your lips. When your tongue made an appearance, his eyes were laser focused on it, before lifting back to yours. All traces of the teasing from before were gone now. “I do,” you confirmed.

Images filled your mind once more, but this time they were of a more carnal nature, starring the attractive man sitting across from you, who very much appeared to be hungry again, and not for food this time. That expression of his promised deliciously dark and sinful things should you decide to make good on your implied offer. You were seriously considering throwing every rule you had right out the window and asking him to drive you back to your place, your car be damned. You’d call Jack for a ride to the station in the morning, not caring in the least about any jokes he might make at your expense on the way. With the way Beau was looking at you now, you were pretty sure you’d be too blissfully tired to care much anyway.

“How is everything?”

The server’s question interrupted your little staring contest and Beau turned an amiable smile up at the man. “Great. Another ribeye grilled to perfection.” You took the opportunity to breathe and get your thoughts back in order.

The younger man grinned, pleased. “Glad to hear it. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Beau glanced over at you as did the server, both waiting for your answer. You knew your reply would determine how you would spend the rest of your evening: sleeping alone or not sleeping at all.

After a moment of desire and logic warring within you, the former ended up winning out. You turned a polite smile onto the server. “Can I get some coffee, please? Decaf?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Beau’s gaze drop to his plate but you also could see the hint of a smile forming on his handsome face.

“Absolutely. Sir, would you like anything else?”

Beau beamed up at the man. “I’ll take some coffee as well. Also decaf. Thank you.”

The server nodded, grabbing your plates, and hurried off to get said coffee.

When Beau’s eyes met yours, you gave him an apologetic smile. You hadn’t meant to be a tease. You really did want to take him back to your place, but you also liked him and surprising yourself, you wanted to see where this could possibly go. You weren’t looking for a serious relationship right now (or possibly ever again) but you also didn’t want whatever this was with Beau only ending up as a one night stand. As much as you were attracted to him and as badly as you wanted to find out just what was stirring deep within those eyes when he looked at you like that, you wanted this to last just a little bit longer. That was what had the rational part of your mind winning the battle from a few moments ago, much to the chagrin of other parts of you.

Beau gave you a subtle nod and his returning smile was understanding and almost appeared a little relieved. You weren’t exactly sure what to think about that but he didn’t give you much time to ponder it before he hit you with the third question you despised. “So, how about you? Ever been married? Any kids?”

You could feel a familiar tension happening in your face when you forced a wan smile. “Never on both counts.”

“Never as in never happened? Or never as in you never plan to?”

You wondered why you had been stupid enough to finish your wine and not get a refill before ordering the coffee. You truly hated this part of dating, which was one of the reasons why you didn’t do it too often. Beau wasn’t asking anything outside of the box that would be expected from a first date, but God did you hate this question.

“Never as in I’ve never been married and no, I don’t have kids.” You glanced around, looking for the server but not finding him. When you looked at Beau again, you found him studying you intently. He seemed to sense that this wasn’t a topic you really wanted to delve into and decided to leave well enough alone. He slowly nodded at your response and finished the remains of his beer.

The playful banter from before, the comfortable conversation, the teasing — all of it seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving a very awkward silence between you for the first time all evening. You mentally cursed yourself, knowing you were the one responsible for it. But you also reminded yourself, This is why you don’t date.

“So, I told you why I moved to Montana. What made you decide to transfer to Big Sky Country?”

You hadn’t expected him to ask that question and when you glanced up at him, you could see the kindness that was beginning to become his trademark staring back at you. He was swerving away from the previous topic and throwing you a lifeline.

“I just needed a change,” you admitted.

Mercifully, he didn’t immediately follow up with “A change from what?” and just nodded. “You like it so far? Outside of things like today I mean?”

You thought it over for a moment. “Yeah. Outside of things like today, I think I do.” You surprised yourself with that statement. You hadn’t really thought about it too much since transferring here. You had only really focused on the job part. You had just been so desperate to get out of New York, to try something different, that you hadn’t really looked before you jumped. And now that you were here and he was asking, it hit you that you hadn’t really taken a moment and thought it over in the four months you’d been here. Montana was certainly different to New York, in many aspects, and you thought the change in the pace of living would drive you nuts. Especially being used to big city life. But truthfully, you found that you much preferred your lifestyle out here compared to what it had been back East. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, Manhattan hadn’t been either, but there was no such thing as perfect — only close to perfect. And right now, studying the man sitting across from you, you knew he fell under that category and despite the heavy weight from work you carried, you felt a little lighter and had a little something resembling hope for the first time since you’d crossed state lines.

Beau crossed his arms and leaned on his elbows. “I feel the same. Took me a little bit, though. Quite the change from Texas, especially in temperature.” He chuckled and your smile widened. “But it’s beautiful up here, the fishing’s great, folks are nice…I had no complaints. And eventually, it started to feel like home.”

You slowly nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” you murmured.

The server appeared then with your coffee. Once you were set up, he left again, giving you both your space.

Beau picked up his cup, getting ready to take a sip. “So, uh, about that case from this morning…”

You placed your cup down and shook your head, chuckling but without any real mirth. “I should’ve known you’d try to pump me for information I can’t give you. No wonder you asked me to dinner then and there. My partner implied as much when I told him.” You were such an idiot. You knew he was attracted to you but you should have known this was going too well to actually be anything more than that and an attempt at getting you to soften up to give him information at the same time. You immediately thought of another reminder for yourself, This is why you don’t date cops.

“What? No.” He gently laid his hand over yours, causing you to look up at him. “That’s not why I asked you to dinner and I’m not asking you for any information. I know you can’t give me more than you already have and I’m not trying to push that.”

“Then why bring it up?”

He went to answer you but then stopped, studying you intently. You weren’t exactly sure what he saw but it had him removing his hand and sitting back, seemingly guarded all of a sudden. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He appeared like he wanted to say more but instead, he smiled apologetically. “I told you I’m no good at this,” he quietly chuckled.

“It’s okay,” you reassured, though it felt like anything but. “Let’s just forget it.” You gave him a small smile before sipping your coffee.

His eyes were trained on you and he let out a quiet sigh. “Hoyt was right. I talk too much.”

You involuntarily tensed at the mention of his undersheriff again. That was twice now. Your instincts were screaming at you. “Maybe she’s not a fan but I don’t mind it.” You compulsively swallowed and then asked the question you hadn’t planned on asking for at least a few more dinners, and that was only if you both somehow managed to become serious about this dating thing and he made the impossible happen: changing your mind. “You asked me about my past so it’s only fair I ask about yours.” He nodded in encouragement. “Was there anyone after your divorce?”

He seemed a little surprised but didn’t hold back from answering. “I had some casual dates here and there. None of it really went anywhere, though. If I’m being honest, I was too focused on Em and the move up here to think about getting into anything.”

You nodded, giving it a beat, before you asked the real question you needed an answer to. “So there wasn’t anyone serious? At all?”

Discomfort quickly flitted across his expression and nervousness radiated off of him, answering your question before he verbally could. Disappointment surged within your chest. You should have known. “Just one. After I had settled in.”

You forced your tone to be as neutral as possible, relying on your training. “And?”

“It didn’t work out.”

You shot him a look of disbelief. Obviously, it hadn’t or you both wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

Beau let out a sigh. “Things just got…complicated.”

You nodded, not bothering to ask how or even who he was referring to. You already had a pretty good idea on both.

Staring at you, Beau seemed to contemplate something before elaborating, “Me and Hoyt…we dated for a bit.” And there it was.

You felt as if a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over you. Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach. You should have known. Rumors, no matter how exaggerated, didn’t start up without some sort of catalyst. Not to mention, her watching you like a hawk while talking to Beau that morning now made sense. You were all cops; if Beau had checked you out at all, no matter how discreetly, Hoyt would have seen it and been less than pleased. Especially, since she appeared to still carry a torch for him; that was more than obvious to you now.

It was a shame. The date had been going mostly well until he dropped that little nugget or harsh truth. While you appreciated his honesty and willingness to be up front with you, and answer your probing questions, you now knew this would never work. The sadness that engulfed you at the thought should not have cut as deeply as it did depending on how little you actually knew this man who you had only met this morning.

“Oh,” you forced out.

“Yeah, but that was some time ago. It’s been done for a while. Like I told you this morning, she’s my undersheriff and a friend, that’s all. Us trying for anything more than that just didn’t end up working out.”

“Obviously.” You gestured at the table, indicating the date you were on.

He laughed, his body relaxing. “Yeah.” He then graced you with a warm smile. “Well, maybe it did in a way.” At your furrowed brows, his smile melted into a smirk and he covered your hand with his once more. “You’re sitting here with me, now.” His thumb began to tenderly stroke your skin and you ignored the chain reaction it set off within you feeling his touch. “So maybe it ended up working out after all,” he murmured.

You gave him a thin-lipped smile. “Yeah,” you whispered, the sadness blooming within your chest. You knew at that moment that if you gave him the greenlight right now, your earlier hesitation before being damned, you could have him in your bed by the night’s end. There was definitely a mutual attraction between you that you definitely could have explored, even if it was just casual fun. But now… Now, the possibility of you and Beau, something fun that wasn’t just a one time thing or something more, had immediately been swiped off the table for you.

And just when you thought things in Montana might work out for you after all.

Beau had just pulled his car to a stop, right behind your parking spot at the station. He turned a smile on you. “There we go.”

You had asked him to bring you back to your car though he offered to drive you home, concern marring his brow when you’d insisted you were sober enough to drive yourself. He didn’t argue but you noticed he purposely took a longer route back to your precinct, which was just agonizing for you. Being in close proximity to the man you were highly attracted to but wanted as far away from as possible at the same time was complete torture. You considered telling him to pull over somewhere you wouldn’t be seen by anyone on the main road and working out the tension you both had along with your frustration, but despite your disappointment at how things had worked out, you couldn’t do that to him. From the little time you’d spent with him, Beau appeared to be a good man and he wouldn’t deserve you doing that to him. You knew he’d enjoy himself as well, sure, but then you insisting things stay professional between you afterwards, insinuating you were just there for one round of casual sex and that you had basically used him — well, he wouldn’t deserve that. Had this been someone like Taylor, you could have easily done that with a clear conscience, but not to Beau. So you kept your hands to yourself, stayed quiet, and stared out the window at the passing dark landscape.

Beau had tried to make conversation a few times and you answered him, but it was the bare minimum. He had even tried to start up the teasing banter again once or twice but you never took the bait. You felt bad but it was best to close this up now rather than let the man have hope for something that could never be.

So once Beau stopped the car, you had to keep yourself from vaulting out of it and getting as far away as you could. Instead, you undid your seat belt, desperate to end this quickly but as kindly and respectfully as possible. “Thank you for dinner. You were right. That was the best steak I’ve had in a long time. You sure know your beef.”

“Us Texas cowboys always do,” he teased. His smile grew and you could see the hope coming to life behind it. You hated to see it, knowing you would soon be crushing it. Your heart cracked slightly when he picked up your hand, kissing the back of it in a manner that you’d only seen in movies. The feel of his lips on your skin sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

You felt him smile against your hand. “Cold?” He murmured.

“A little,” you lied. “Still not used to the temperature, I guess.”

“I know that feeling all too well.” He released your hand and turned on the heat, adjusting the vents in your direction. He then picked up both of your hands, bringing them up to his face and gently blew hot air into your palms, causing another shiver. This time, thankfully, he didn’t remark on it and there was no smug smirk. Instead, he began to rub your hands in between his, trying to warm you up. “I should’ve brought a jacket,” he muttered. “Or insisted you grab yours.”

“It’s fine,” you whispered. “I have to adjust to the Montana weather at some point, I guess.”

Beau chuckled. “Yeah but not like this.”

“I’ll be fine. The heat in my car was working this morning and I’m a straight shot across town where I’ll be stepping into a warm house.”

He continued rubbing your hands, his eyes meeting yours. “You live across town?”

You nodded.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you mention that? I could have dropped you right off and given you a ride back here in the morning.”

You softened at the nickname before your eyes narrowed. “What, you thought you’d be spending the night? Wow, presumptuous much?” You didn’t mention how you had been afraid the entire date that that very thing might happen if you invited him back to your place.

He gave you his winning smile. “Not what I meant, darlin’.”

You rolled your eyes and gently pulled your hands out of his, rubbing at your left one and focusing on it. “You’ve got all sorts of nicknames for the ladies, don’t you?” You muttered.

You felt him tenderly cup your chin and he brought your eyes back over to his. You could feel yourself falling into the depths of those green orbs that studied you so intently. “I’d really like to see you again,�� he murmured. “Y/N,” he added for good measure with the hint of a teasing smirk.

You gave him a sad smile and gently moved his hand away from you. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

His smirk dropped and his brows began to furrow. “I'm not sure I understand. I thought—”

You scrambled for a way to explain that wouldn’t invite too many questions. “I’m just not looking for anything serious right now. And honestly, I think you are.”

The confusion on his bearded face intensified. “Then why did you say yes to the date?”

You shrugged. “Truthfully, I was hoping we could have something casual and I thought maybe that’s what you’d want as well, just to have some fun without any strings, something light, but now…”

He watched you, his eyes moving back and forth over your features, trying to assess what exactly had gone wrong here. You kept your poker face on, thankful for that one part of your job you had been able to hone over the years. Sure enough, disappointment began to spread over his expression. “I thought we had a really nice time. That we were on the same page.”

“So did I,” you admitted sadly. Until we weren’t. “But we just aren’t.” You pretended you didn’t see his face fall at that or the wall he immediately put back up after until a stony expression was all that looked back at you. “Look, I did have a nice time. A really nice time. Thank you for showing me some of what Helena has to offer.” You gave him a kind smile at the callback to your conversation from that morning and you weren’t surprised when he didn’t smile back. Not this time. Possibly not ever again. Another part of you was saddened that you had pretty much ruined any chance of you becoming friends, never mind lovers. But you just couldn’t do that to yourself again. You wouldn’t, even for a great guy like Beau.

You knew you shouldn’t do it but you couldn’t resist; this would be your only chance. You leaned in and quickly kissed him on the cheek. You felt his arms start to move, almost as if to circle around you and pull you in closer, but you hurriedly moved back into your seat before he could. “I guess I’ll see you around. Good night, Beau.”

His eyes stayed trained on you. “Get home safe,” he gruffed out.

Your smile widened at his kindness. “You, too.”

You stepped out of the car, noting that he didn’t rush to get out to open your door for you like he had earlier in the evening. That might have to do with the stone cold expression he still wore that faded into shock and disappointment when he thought you could no longer see him. You got into your car and started it, giving him a wave when he didn’t immediately move. A moment later, his car pulled away from yours and you watched as he slowly rolled out of the parking lot onto the main road. Once he disappeared out of sight, you let out a heavy breath and dropped your face into your hands.

You liked Beau, he seemed like a good man and he even seemed good for you. But the past relationship with Hoyt that he had admitted to you had you hitting the eject button as fast as you could. No matter how easy and promising things had seemed between you before that little bomb dropped. Had he owned up to it this morning when he asked you out, you would have never said yes to him. You’d been there before and you had no interest in going through any of that again. That particular scar still stung even though it had been quite a while since that pain had been inflicted on you.

Speaking of which, Beau had been right; you should have said no when he asked you out. You took a deep breath, silently cursing yourself for being so stupid as to accept the date. What had you been thinking? That you’d get a friends with benefits situation going with the man? Or that you’d somehow magically be willing to enter into something serious when you knew deep down you couldn’t? Not only that, but you should have known from the way Hoyt looked at Beau at the crime scene this morning that there was something between them. You should have immediately known the second her possessive attitude appeared. He may have claimed that they were done and it was in the past for him, but that didn’t mean it was for Hoyt. And if she wanted to resume things between them, pick up where they left off before it got too complicated, it would only be a matter of time… You shook the thought from your mind and took another deep breath, blowing it out past your lips in a steady stream of air.

Once you felt centered enough to be able to focus, you put the car in reverse and started the drive home, intent on putting Beau Arlen and another date that ended in disaster behind you.

You watched as Jack leaned forward, placing his hands on the table, staring down the man currently sitting across from you both.

“So, you’re telling me that you were nowhere near the Hartmans’ the night before last?”

“No, sir,” the young man insisted.

Your jaw tensed but you kept your face carefully blank. Sure enough, the kid’s coffee-colored eyes briefly flickered in your direction before settling back on your partner.

Earlier this morning, not too long after you had arrived for your shift, Ava Russell, Amelia Hartman’s sister, had marched into the precinct, towing along Madison, the couple’s daughter. You hadn’t seen either of them since you had spoken to them at the Hartmans’ home yesterday, after the latter had discovered the grisly scene of her parents’ deaths as a result of what appeared to be a home invasion gone badly. The older woman demanded to speak to you and Jack right then and there.

Your heart went out to the young girl almost immediately when you spotted her bloodshot eyes surrounded by puffy and blotchy-red skin. Even as she looked at you, her eyes were brimming once more with unshed tears.

“Ms. Russell, how can we help?” Jack asked kindly.

Before he could finish getting the words out, Ava turned to Madison and said sternly, “You need to tell them.”

Madison’s eyes overflowed once more and she sniffled, wiping her cheeks. “Aunt Ava, I don’t know if I should,” she whimpered. “What if I’m wrong?”

“Then he’ll be cleared,” Ava snapped. “But you need to tell them.”

Madison let out a sob and dropped her face into her hands. Ava looked as if she was about to bark at the girl again, so you quickly stepped in, laying a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. It wasn’t uncommon to see something happening like this after such a case as this one. Emotions were running high, they’d barely had time to process the two unexpected deaths, their thoughts most likely were turning over and over with memories of Everett and Amelia, wanting to know who had taken them from this world and so brutally — all of it. Ava loved her niece, that much was evident from what you’d seen the day before, but both women were most likely near their breaking points, even if they might be on different ends of the emotional spectrum at the moment. The best thing you could do to help was to listen to what needed to be said, to placate Ava and let her know you were absolutely taking her sister and brother-in-law’s case seriously, and to soothe Madison who had been through more than enough in the last twenty four hours. Not to mention, any investigator worth their salt would be willing to hear whatever Maddie had to say, even if she herself thought she was wrong, whatever it might be. You never know what form a break in the case might show up in.

“Hey, Maddie,” you spoke softly. “How about you and I find a quiet place to sit down and talk? Would that be alright?”

She sniffled again and turned to glance up at you.

“I’ll come with you,” Ava insisted, ready to march her niece down the hallway towards the interrogation rooms herself.

“Actually,” Jack smoothly intervened. “Ms Russell, if you don’t mind, maybe you can stay here with me and answer a few more questions. Maddie will be fine with Detective Y/L/N. She’s in good hands.”

Ava had a knowing expression on her face and her eyes landed on your encouraging nod, making her sigh. “Sure. But, Maddie, you need to tell them everything,” she ordered, this time with a gentler but still firm tone.

Maddie gave her aunt a subtle nod, wiping her cheeks again, and you turned a kind smile on her. “Let’s go see if we can find a quiet room, okay?”

“Okay,” Maddie choked out.

You had led the strawberry blonde-haired teenager down the hall and into one of the free rooms. You made sure she was comfortable and had everything she needed before you sat down to hear what she had to tell you. And by the end of it, you had a feeling you might be thanking Ava for pushing her niece to come in if this was indeed the break in the case you and Jack had been looking for.

Maddie had a boyfriend, Dylan Carter, who she met last semester and who happened to be a few years older than her — something she hadn’t shared the day before with you or Jack when you’d asked. It turned out that he wasn’t a student at the university she attended but he lived locally off-campus. They had met at a party one night and things took off from there. She had been seeing him pretty steadily since then and they had gotten serious. So serious in fact that Maddie had brought Dylan home for a bit once classes let out for the summer. To say Everett and Amelia Hartman were unimpressed was an understatement.

After observing the two lovebirds up close and personal, both parents wanted Maddie to move on from the relationship and focus on the path ahead of her. They reminded her she was young and had so many opportunities at her fingertips, just waiting to be taken. Maddie hadn’t been happy about their opinions and it had caused arguments between her and her parents, but when you pushed a little further, you eventually got the whole story behind the Hartmans’ immediate dislike of her boyfriend.

They were convinced that Dylan was controlling and manipulative towards her, and they wanted him out of her life. He could be a sly charmer in public, very charismatic even, but privately, it was a whole other matter. He didn’t want her going anywhere or seeing anyone without him present. He had become possessive, overly jealous, and demanding. He even would put her down and call her names, tell her how stupid she was or how ugly she looked, and advised her that she should feel lucky that he chose to be with her, that he loved her that much.

Classic emotionally abusive behavior: suss out their vulnerabilities, strip them down until they’re nothing and easily controlled, and you’ll be in control of them. Sadly, it was no surprise to you that Maddie had kept her relationship with Dylan a secret from you and Jack. You’d seen it several times before in cases you worked, even back when you’d been working the beat as a patrol officer. Just like you discovered in Homicide, there were way too many methods that people could employ to hurt others, way too many ways that innocents could be preyed upon by predators of various natures, all of them having diverse motives. It was something that you (and all cops truthfully) learned early on in your career. It was even why some of you joined the force, yourself included. To protect and serve — it wasn’t just a motto painted on the side of a patrol car to you.

You had paused the writing on your notepad when Maddie told you about an incident that had taken place only a few weeks ago. She and Dylan had gotten into another heated argument, this time over her disobeying him by going out to dinner with a girlfriend while he had been working. The argument escalated to Dylan wrapping his hand around her throat and pushing her into the wall. He had tightened his grip when she clawed at his hand and she had been terrified. He threatened her and let her go but not before he promised that if she ever did something like that again, she’d be sorry. That incident had frightened her so badly that she had snuck a phone call to her mom after he had fallen asleep. All she had running through her mind was what if he hadn’t let go of her? What if she’d never see her parents again, or her friends? What if he had squeezed too hard? What if he’d done worse? What if he killed her, even just accidentally? He regularly grabbed her, left bruises around her wrists and forearms, even squeezed her thighs and knees in death grips when he would drive, but never had he gone this far before.

Naturally, Amelia panicked and woke Everett. They immediately made the three hour drive to pick up their daughter, not caring in the least about what could be done for classes. She could transfer for all they cared but they wanted their daughter safely away from the abusive asshole who’d had the nerve to put his hands on her, with the intent to harm her. Something Everett told Dylan when they’d faced off while Amelia rushed Maddie out of his apartment and down to the car. The older man hadn’t missed the light marks forming on Maddie’s neck even though he’d already known what happened since Maddie had told Amelia. Her parents had wanted to contact law enforcement, take out a restraining order, but she pleaded with them not to. Eventually, she was able to persuade them, promising she’d stay away from Dylan for good.

That promise didn’t last that long. She had returned home with her parents as they’d requested, luckily being able to take some classes online, while Amelia kept posing the possibility of a transfer to somewhere closer to home at the end of the semester. Everything seemed to be settling into place though things had been terrifying that one night, and she was doing her best to cope with the new changes in her life. And of course, Dylan kept sending her apology texts, lonesome Snapchats, and left her tearful and pleading voicemails. He claimed he truly loved her, loved her so much that it drove him crazy. He never meant to hurt her, he just got jealous and he lost his head, but he would never really hurt her, yada, yada, yada. You’d heard all of those excuses before and you began to see what direction this story was about to take.

Sure enough, Maddie had started to sneak out to meet with him when he told her he was in town and desperately needed to see her. She lied to her parents about catching up with a friend who was taking a gap year and still living at home. Amelia seemed nervous to let her out the door but eventually, she gave in and just asked that Maddie stay safe, keep in touch — easy enough to agree to at her nineteen years of age. Everett had told her to call him if she needed him to pick her up or for anything at all. The two were none the wiser. And Ava hadn’t known about the scary incident with Dylan or anything after that whatsoever; not until Maddie had told her the night prior and then the older woman insisted she come in this morning to tell you everything.

One night about a week ago, Maddie met up with Dylan, and of course, he had been in a sour mood. He wanted her to move back, to move in with him, but she said she couldn’t. When he got angry, pressing her and then insisting she must not really love him, she panicked and said she couldn’t because of her parents. Maddie began to cry, recounting this moment to you, and her regret was palpable. It was obvious she believed she might be responsible for what happened to her parents even though she still couldn’t accept that Dylan would ever hurt them. He loved her after all, and to hurt them like that would hurt her. Surely, he understood that.

You pressed your lips together for a moment, choosing not to respond to that thought, and gently prompted her to tell you what happened next.

“He said ‘So, it’s your parents then? That’s why we can’t be together?’ Not really thinking and just wanting to end the argument, I told him yeah, that was why.”

“And what did he say to that?” You asked her.

Her eyes began to brim with additional tears, spilling over onto her cheeks. “He asked me,” she choked out. “‘If your parents weren’t a problem, would you be with me then?’” She began to sob, placing her face into her hands. “I told him yes but only because I wanted him to stop. I never meant to—” Her crying increased and you felt horrible for her but you still needed to do your job. The only thing you could offer in that moment was quiet kindness, silent support, and a box of tissues.

She took the box from you and sobbed out a thank you. You gave her a minute or so to collect herself but you had to prompt her to get the rest of the information.

“Maddie, where is Dylan now?”

Her wet eyes snapped up to you in alarm, almost looking fearful, and she rushed out, “You’re not going to arrest him, are you?”

You had answered that as diplomatically yet vaguely as you could. It took some coaxing on your part, but eventually she told you where he was staying. Here in town still. Of course. There was no way he was going to leave the object of his dangerous obsession, the toy he liked to exert his control over. Obviously, you kept those thoughts to yourself.

“Have you spoken to him since yesterday?”

She nodded, wiping a tissue under her nose. “Yeah.”

“So you told him about what happened to your parents?”

“Yeah,” she whimpered.

“And what was his response?”

Maddie’s eyes watered again but she managed to get out, “He told me he was really sorry, that he hated that I had found them like that, and he wanted to be there for me.” You got the sense there was more to it than that so you pushed.

“And?”

“And,” she whispered brokenly. “He said ‘I know how sad you are but just think, we can be together now. No one’s standing in our way.’” She burst into tears once more and you let out a quiet breath, writing down what she’d said. Not a confession by any means, but it certainly now made Dylan Carter a person of interest in your eyes. It was something you and Jack definitely needed to look into and pronto. And somehow you had to convince Maddie to take out a restraining order, something you hoped you could have Ava assist you with. She had listened to her aunt about coming in, maybe she’d listen about safeguarding her safety as well. You wanted nothing more than to comfort the girl but you had to do what you’d been brought onto this case to do and see through this investigation. You had gotten too personal, too caught up in emotions once before, and you couldn’t— You briefly closed your eyes in pain, feeling the weight of the necklace around your neck, but you forced yourself to focus. You had a job to do and that was to get justice for the Hartmans and by extension, their daughter, while also protecting her. You had a new lead, a possible motive — time to get cracking.

So here you and Jack were, sitting in another interrogation room with Dylan across from you, giving you both a mix of a bright smile and a cocky smirk. You knew without a doubt that you had your guy but you had to see the process through to make sure no stone was left unturned.

Dylan had been exactly where Maddie said he’d be and he didn’t appear to be worried by Jack’s pounding on his door or your request that he accompany you to the station to be questioned. Nor did he seem fazed by the presence of two Helena PD officers behind you, at the ready and each having one hand near their handcuffs in case the word lawyer was used, the other near their holster in case he made a move. He could try to refuse but there was really no room for refusal. And now that he had denied being anywhere near the victims’ home the other night, locking himself into his story, you were going to show him why there wasn’t.

“Are you sure that you weren’t anywhere near the Hartman home the other night? Say around 11:30?” You asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Like I told you, I was at my friend’s. We watched the hockey game, drank a few beers, then I crashed on his couch. I was a little too drunk to drive if I’m being honest.” He tried to give you his most charming smile but you weren’t buying a single shred of the act.

“So not at all?” You repeated.

“No, ma’am,” he insisted.

You glanced over to Jack who gave you a subtle nod. “Well then, we have a problem, Mr. Carter.” You picked up your phone, pulled up the file Stephens had sent you, hit the play button, and turned it around to show the son of a bitch.

He watched the scene unfold that you and Jack had watched before heading out to pick him up. A dark Toyota Corolla pulled up in front of a house two spots away from the Hartman house, coming to a slow stop. When the engine was turned off, it was a good minute before he got out and closed his door; you chalked that up to him checking the area before getting out. You then watched as he made his way down the sidewalk of the quiet street, stopping in front of the Hartman property, turned, and approached the house, slipping out of sight of the camera. Dylan had only put his hoodie up and had never looked around to see if the neighbors had any doorbell cameras, and like an overly confident jackass, he had pulled right in front of the house that not only had a doorbell camera but also a garage one, and his image was all too clear for anyone to see, plain as day.

You could see his jaw tensing but he kept his face tightly controlled. You stopped the video and placed your phone down. Jack had his arms crossed and his stare at Dylan never wavered. “That’s you, Mr. Carter.” You pointed to the device. “Pulling up to a neighbor’s house close to the timeframe that the Medical Examiner has estimated that the victims were killed. You then got out of your vehicle and approached the Hartman home. You were not seen leaving until approximately an hour later. You were there the night they died. So as I said, we have a problem.”

“That proves nothing,” he ground out.

“Nothing?” You turned to look at Jack in feigned shock before turning back to the younger man. “You lied about being at the scene the night of the murders. You are on camera arriving on scene. How does that prove nothing?”

“That’s not me,” he snapped. “You can’t tell who that is.”

You watched him for a moment. “It is you, Mr. Carter. And I’m willing to bet that if we find that hoodie, the victims’ blood will be all over it, won’t it?” You challenged.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You arched a brow over at him but remained quiet, allowing your partner to attempt to seal the deal, to push him off of the edge of that bubble he was currently riding on. You didn’t see a confession coming, not from this sadistic prick, but you had to take the chance that he might fold in the face of some of the evidence already gathered against him.

“Here’s your chance to come clean, man,” Jack offered. “To tell us what really happened that night. Maybe you only meant to scare them, talk to them, convince them why their daughter should give you another chance. Maybe something went horribly wrong and you reacted. And maybe after that, you panicked.”

Dylan’s eyes snapped up and you could see the angry edge to his now darker brown gaze. You had him and he knew it. “I’d like to talk to that lawyer now.” The good old L word. You wished you could say you were surprised that he would have opted for that instead of admitting what he had done, but you weren’t. Not much surprised you anymore when it came to these types of cases, especially with these types of perps. There was no remorse in those eyes.

You gathered up your papers, phone, and got to your feet along with Jack. “Sure thing,” you said sweetly, giving him a strained smile and turning to leave the room. You opened the door and indicated to Officer Morris who had been standing sentry nearby, waiting. He gave you a nod and he made his way past you into the room. He ordered Dylan to stand up and put his hands behind his back, causing the latter to scoff and demand a lawyer even more firmly, saying he was being falsely accused and that he didn’t do anything. Morris asked him again to stand up and this time, Officer Lewis had also stepped into the room. Lewis reminded you of a wrestler you’d once seen on TV years ago, some guy named Austin or something; he was that big and intimidating looking, not that Morris was any slouch himself. Dylan wisely got to his feet and did as requested.

“You’re under arrest for the murders of Everett Hartman and Amelia Hartman,” Jack began as Morris cuffed Dylan. He read him his Miranda rights and once he was finished, Morris led Dylan out the door.

You watched as he passed you by, not looking away once even when he glared at you. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, he stopped and got a sick-looking smile on his face, whispering to you, “She’s mine, you know? We’re going to be together. Nothing is going to keep us apart now. She’s mine.”

You wanted to punch him, to tell him that Maddie or any other person on this planet would never be his, that he was going to rot in jail for the rest of his life and you’d personally see to it — but you kept your cool, your training kicking in, and you kept your features carefully schooled into a neutral expression. Plus, you refused to give him any of the reaction he was looking for. He had already taken too much from Maddie and her parents, Ava and their loved ones, and from what you’d found out about the victims during your investigation, the community. He had shattered Maddie’s world and it would be a very difficult road ahead for her but at least she was now safe from this monster.

“Let’s go.” Morris pushed Dylan forward and Lewis was right there to give him a hand. You continued staring after them as they made their way down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

“You okay?” Jack asked, next to you.

You turned to look at him, your brows furrowed. “Yeah, why?”

He inclined his head towards your chest and you only just realized that you had pulled your necklace out and been moving the pendant back and forth on the chain. You had no idea when or why you’d done that; you only hoped that you hadn’t done that in front of Dylan and the officers.

You cleared your throat and placed the pendant back inside your shirt. “I’m fine, thanks though.”

Jack nodded. “Bit of a rough case.”

You huffed out a breath. “Bit of an understatement.”

“True.” Jack gestured for you to walk down the hall to your squad room first. “But the important thing is she’s now safe.”

“As long as he doesn’t get bail,” you muttered.

Jack shook his head. “You think you could stop being the Bad News Bears for one minute? Take the win, Y/L/N.” He passed you and entered the room, plopping his notepad onto his desk. “Besides, I doubt he’s going to get bail. We’ve got him on video. The DA will use it and make a good argument.”

Jack had a point but so did you. “The girl’s parents are dead. She believes she’s the one that caused their deaths. How is that a win? For anyone?” You placed your things on your desk and turned around to lean against it, crossing your arms.

Jack gave you a look but sat down in his chair. “We just closed up a case literally before we hit the forty eight hour mark. We’ve got him on the Ring camera footage from the neighbor, we’ve got him on traffic cams driving to and from the house near the approximate time of death, he’s got the motive, he flat out lied about being at the scene, he’s obviously got a screw loose from what he just said in there to you that’s on camera. We’re getting warrants for his friend’s place and for the tracking of the friend’s car. The sister was able to convince the daughter to take out a restraining order so it’s on record — it’s an open and shut case. A win, Y/N. What more do you want?”

For the bastard to pay. Immediately dismissing that thought and masterfully keeping a tight lid on your emotions, you mulled over it. What more did you want? You couldn’t be quite sure other than that you wished this hadn’t happened in the first place, like with every single case as of late. Every single case since… You briefly fingered at the fabric covering the pendant around your neck. Jack was right; this was pretty much an open and shut case, and Maddie was now safe. Ava was even taking your suggestion to get the girl into therapy as soon as possible. You should take the win. You gave him a nod and turned to sit down at your desk.

“Well, well, well,” Taylor began as he walked in, making your eyes roll as soon as you heard his voice. “If it isn’t my favorite lady detective.”

“Well, well, well,” you echoed. “If it isn’t the pain in my dick coming back. Could’ve sworn the doc gave me something for it but here you are, again. Gonna have to tell her that the creams aren’t working so I need something stronger.”

Jack hissed out a laugh and Stephens rolled his eyes, passing by you both to get to his desk. “Can’t you two play nice for one damn day?” He grumbled.

Riley Taylor was a few years younger than you, had just moved into Homicide two years before you transferred here, and was a perpetual pain in your ass. What he lacked in tact he more than made up for in his pursuit to drive you up a wall on the daily. The blond-haired detective thought he was slick, charismatic, and overall wanted by every single female in a ten foot radius. Guess who was the only female that worked within a ten foot radius of him during the week? Yep, you got that honor…though you knew it was more of a curse.

Sure, he had pursued you the first few weeks you’d been out here, probably just happy at the prospect of having a woman to talk at instead of the wall since Jack and Stephens mostly ignored him. You’d politely declined, trying to be professional, civil, compassionate — and then you’d flat out turned him down when he took your response as a green flag to continue his pursuit. Suffice to say, things had turned downright ugly between you two and the animosity was at an all-time high. He wasn’t a bad guy per se, and you could work together if you had to, but he definitely got on your nerves pretty often. If there was a bane of your existence in this precinct, it was most assuredly him.

Mark Stephens was his partner, a middle-aged man with mostly gray hair and a bushy mustache to boot. He had been in Homicide longer than you, Jack, and Taylor put together though for some reason he had been passed over for Captain in favor of Anderson. The rumor was that it was due to his age while others claimed it was because the Chief couldn’t stand him. Stephens took a very no-nonsense approach to everything he did, even outside of the job. Jack told you that the last time a smile had been spotted on Stephens’ face was back in 1993 when the Toronto Blue Jays had won the World Series for the second time. By the time the World Series was supposed to roll around again the following year, the smile had all but slipped into legend. Jack also warned you that you’d have a better chance of finding the Holy Grail than ever hearing Stephens laugh.

You could almost understand why Taylor enjoyed provoking you rather than dealing with Stephens all the time…almost. You didn’t think Stephens was that bad and you respected his experience and how he handled himself on the job. You also couldn’t help but feel some compassion for the man. He’d been around for how many years, seeing how many murders? You thought your squad and the whole damn precinct needed to cut him some slack.

“Oh, I’d like to get along with her, alright,” Taylor teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he continued to his desk.

“And just like that, I feel the sudden impulse to trade waxes for cement.”

Taylor halted in his tracks, frozen mid-air above his chair, his eyes wide. “You get waxed? Are we talking bikini waxes or…?”

“Alright, alright,” Jack interrupted, flashing a look between you both. “Let’s keep it PG in here for Christ’s sake.”

“Amen,” Stephens mumbled, already clicking away at his mouse.

“She brought it up,” Taylor argued. “Listen, I’m a simple man and I can only take so much.”

“You’re simple, alright,” you muttered, turning to open your drawer on the left side of your desk.

“You wish you had a piece of this, Y/L/N,” Taylor threw out there.

You whipped your head around so fast, you were surprised you hadn’t hurt your neck with the action. “Oh, you mean like a super tiny bite-sized piece?”

“I mean, if you want to bite…I’m game.”

You scoffed in disgust and turned back to your computer. You had work to do; the asshole could go into the men’s bathroom and play with himself if he was that hard up for some entertainment. The way you’d heard it, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

A throat clearing nearby broke into your thoughts. “Hi.”

Your eyes shot up in disbelief, having heard a familiar voice in front of you that you hadn’t thought you would hear anytime soon, if ever again. Sure enough, there stood Sheriff Beau Arlen, hat in hand, facing your desk, his eyes intent on you. You hadn’t heard or seen him come in. “Hi,” you breathed out in surprise.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your fellow detectives turning to watch the scene happening in front of them. Except Stephens; the older man could care less.

You marveled at how good Beau looked. Once again, you felt the pangs of disappointment when you remembered why you couldn’t go there, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the feast your eyes were currently being served. You stared a little too long and Beau smiled to himself, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting yours again, the unabashed desire deep within those green orbs while at the same time, his cheeks appeared to be a single shade darker. Somehow, the contradicting reactions made him look even more appealing to the naked eye. Naked. You tilted your head slightly as that word rolled around in your head, causing your teeth to subconsciously dig into your bottom lip. You bet he’d look just as good as he did with his clothes on, perhaps even better…

Jack loudly cleared his throat and it thankfully shook you out of your very unprofessional thought track. You got your mind out of the gutter and you snapped back into professional mode immediately, ignoring your partner’s quiet sniggering. “What are you doing here?” You asked the man in front of you.

Beau gave you one of his infamous smiles. “Well, Detective Y/L/N, I was hoping we could have a quick word.” He quickly glanced around the room, taking in all of the eyes on both of you, before elaborating, “About the case from yesterday.”

Your heart immediately sunk in your chest. Of course. You weren’t allowed to be disappointed, though. You were the one who had insisted on things remaining professional between you and nothing more.

Jack’s head snapped up and he turned narrow eyes on the sheriff, glancing back and forth between you two with immediate suspicion. Even though Jack had asked you how the date went the night before, you had simply told him it hadn’t worked out but didn’t give any details. Before he could ask why, Maddie and her aunt had arrived. So you weren’t surprised when Jack watched you both like a hawk in this moment, especially with Beau mentioning that case and so openly.

Before you could answer him, a knock on the open door had you all looking over to find Officer Hutchinson standing there, his gaze trained on you and Jack. “Anderson wants you to see you two in his office,” he gestured to you both. “Right now.” The man vanished before you could say a word in response.

Your brows furrowed as you exchanged a look with Jack, hoping like hell it wasn’t any bad news, or worse: the string of murders from your serial continuing.

You glanced over at Beau as you got to your feet, noticing a fleeting look of guilt as he slipped his hat back onto his head. Your heart sunk even further. Maybe last night had really been an attempt to get information out of you all along. How could you have been so blind?

“Called to the boss’ office,” Taylor teased from his desk. “Wonder what that could be about. Maybe he’s finally going to partner us up, Y/L/N. About damn time, wouldn’t you say?”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a notepad and pen, resisting the urge to flip him off. He certainly gave your middle finger a daily workout, that’s one thing you could say for him. “The day that happens is the day I will happily go back to traffic duty.”

“No need for that. Not when I’ve got something you can check on the regular instead.”

You clenched your fingers around your pen and your jaw tensed as you fought not to say something smart back. You couldn’t believe he had said something like that in front of someone who wasn’t in this unit or even this precinct. What a dickhead. Well, if anything, Taylor was building his own sexual harassment lawsuit against him. The one bright spot in the everyday torture he inflicted on you daily.

“More like break and then remove, but whatever,” you muttered. You ignored Taylor’s guffaw and walked around your desk, coming to a stop in front of Beau.

Beau looked unhappy and that guilt was back again in full force. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk first. Maybe we can have a quick word after the meeting.” At your tensing due to hearing him knowing about the meeting, your suspicions confirmed, he laid a gentle hand on your upper arm. “I’ll see you in there and we’ll talk after,” he assured you in a quiet murmur, squeezing your arm before dropping his hand. It surprised you when Beau then turned a blatant glare in Taylor’s direction before heading out the door. You had never seen that glare on his face before and from the look of it, you hoped you never did, especially directed at you.

Taylor snorted and sneered over at you. “Your boyfriend get jealous or something, Y/L/N? He should be.”

This time, you didn’t fight the urge and promptly flipped him off. Jack gestured for you to join him and you ignored Taylor’s resounding laughter as you two left the room.

In the hallway, Jack muttered to you, “I thought last night was just a date.”

Your jaw tensed. “I thought so, too.”

“Did you talk about the case at all?”

You stopped in your tracks and turned a scowl on him. “Let’s get one thing straight here, Darcy. I know we’ve only been partners for four months but I am a goddamn professional. What? You think some good looking guy makes eyes at me and my brain turns to mush and I forget everything I have worked for? That I’m that fucking stupid? Think again,” you snarled.

Jack held up his hands placatingly. “Relax. That’s not what I’m saying. I only meant, did he bring up the case?”

You let out a breath. “Yeah. Once.” You raised your chin a little, daring him to challenge you on this next part. “But I shut it right down.”

Your partner nodded and held out his arm in front of you, gesturing for you to continue your trek. You did but only after eyeing him severely, giving him the most withering look you could.

“Is that why it didn’t work out?”

“Among other things,” you snapped, not wanting to talk about any of that right now.

Jack gave you another nod and remained quiet the rest of the short walk to your captain’s office. Once you reached the door with the frosted pane of glass bearing the name “Captain James Anderson” in gold letters, Jack gently touched your elbow to stop your progress. “Alright, listen. When we’re in there, let me do the talking.” At your fresh glare, he hurried to add, “Whether you like it or not, I’ve known Anderson longer and whatever firing squad we’re possibly facing in there, I can grab his ear and get him to listen. Especially with Sheriff Loverboy in there now.”

Your eyes widened. Was Darcy trying to push you over the edge? Or get you arrested for homicide? “Are you suggesting that I—”

“No,” he rushed out. “Of course not. I’m saying you need to keep an eye out. You got a good look at his body language last night.” At the fury filling your eyes, Jack assured, “Professionally speaking. You got a pretty good read on him so you know what to look for. Y/N, we need to have each other’s backs in there, alright? We don’t want to lose this case. Not when we’ve fought so hard to keep it.”

He gave you a meaningful look and you unclenched your jaw, sighing, and gave him a curt nod. Jack was right. Not only did you need to be sharp in there but you both had been on this case from the very beginning. You’d be damned if you’d let anyone take you off of it or try to push you out.

After a moment, Jack knocked on the door. “Come in,” Anderson called out.

You took a deep breath and smoothed out your features, giving Jack another nod to let him know you were ready. He returned it and opened the door, allowing you to walk through first. You froze at the threshold. Your body tensed and it took everything you had to keep the shock and ensuing anger off of your face.

Sitting in front of Anderson’s desk was Hoyt, smirking up at you, and the sheriff who had taken you out last night, who had asked to talk to you just a few minutes ago. Beau’s eyes sought yours but you refused to meet his gaze. Instead, you kept your eyes on the smug blonde seated next to him.

If you had any doubts about your decision from the night before, they had all but evaporated into thin air after spotting the woman in front of you. You remembered Beau’s words from last night. “Things just got…complicated.” Seeing Hoyt’s smirk grow the longer you stood there and noticing Beau fidgeting next to her out of your peripherals, you actually found yourself agreeing with his sentiments. Complicated sure was a nice way of putting it.

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glittersandsourcherries · 3 years ago

Text

A little too much | Elliot x Reader

Summary: The intervention at Rue’s left Elliot feeling terribly guilty. He gets caught up in his emotions and takes it a little too far

Pairing: Elliot x Reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: mention of drugs, overdose

keep sending prompts

Elliot had been feeling terribly guilty over the intervention at Rue's. You had warned him that it was a bad idea to go and that Jules should go alone, but Elliot insisted to go with her, feeling responsible since he was doing drugs with Rue. So he went.

You held him as he told you about the sour turn of the intervention. Your heart was breaking for Rue as Elliot told you how violent she got with her words and actions. The horrible things she said to her mom and sister, to Jules. How she hit Elliot right in the forehead and called him a snake and a fucking liar.

Elliot wasn't even mad at her. She had all the rights to hate him for snitching, he couldn't blame her, but he couldn't let her destroy herself any more. He had to intervene before it went too far. Before losing her.

You spend the rest of the day cuddling on your bed, comforting your boyfriend and reassured him that he did the right thing - although they could've taken a better approach. She must've felt trapped and utterly betrayed.

''Want to stay the night?'' you asked, raking your fingers through his curly hair.

Elliot shook his head, sitting up and detaching himself from you. ''Nah. Imma head home. I...I need to be alone for a bit.''

''Oh. Okay.''

A frown formed between your eyebrows, taken aback by his response. Elliot was allowed to go home or need time alone, but you felt something off. He never passed up a chance of sleeping with you - actually sleeping.

You cupped his cheek and kissed him gently. ''Call me if you need. Anytime, okay?''

He nodded.

It was nearing midnight when your phone went off, getting a call. You saw Elliot's name on the screen and smiled, putting your movie on pause.

''Hey baby, how are-''

''Y/N.''

A frown formed between your eyebrows, recognizing Elliot's cousin.

''Alisha. Why do you have Elliot's phone?''

Your heart began beating faster, anxiety and worry filling your bones, getting a bad feeling.

There was a sniffle on the other end, which confirmed your worries. ''He... Something happened. Elliot overdosed.''

Your whole body went still, in complete shock. Your phone slipped from your hand, landing on the floor and cracking the screen. .

When you got to the ICU, your hands were clammy and your heart was beating fast. Your hair was in a messy ponytail and you were wearing sweatpants and one of Elliot's hoodie. You looked like a fucking mess.

As expected, the nurse in chief at the ICU wouldn't let you in since you weren't family. Annoyed, you pulled out your phone and, through teary eyes, called Elliot's cousin. She saved the day and lied to the nurses, saying you were his half sister and that your dad sent you since he was out of town.

''How is he?''

''Stable. They gave him Narcan.''

You nodded. Narcan was the usual procedure for an overdose. Once administered, the person wakes immediately.

''H...he'll be fine, right?''

''Yeah. He should be.'' Alisha forced a small smile, still in shock from tonight's event. ''He's sleeping, now, but you can go. It's the second door.''

Your legs carried you to the door. You took a deep breath, twisted the doorknob, and stepped in.

The room was cold, as were all hospital rooms. In the middle, Elliot was laying in the small hospital bed, sleeping on his side, looking peaceful and calm. He had on an ugly blue hospital gown and a heart monitor was taped to his chest, beeping loudly.

You silently made your way over to his bed, taking a seat in the chair beside it, trying not to wake him. How did this happen?

You weren't an idiot. You knew it was from taking too much drugs, but you thought Elliot had control with his addiction. That he knew when to stop. He swore to you that he wasn't on Rue's level with his addiction, but after tonight, you didn't know what to think.

A tear slipped from your eyes and you wiped it with your sleeve.

Before you, Elliot began to stir, as if he had felt a presence in the room. You watched as he scrunched his nose, slowly waking. His peered open, squinting at the brightness of the ceiling lights.

You reached out to stroke his cheekbone.

''H-hi.'' His voice was small and scratchy, just above a whisper. ''I told Alisha not to call you.''

''Well, I'm here so, deal with it.''

You expected him to be mad or tell you to leave, but he covered your hand with his instead.

''I'm glad that you're here.'' He looked at you with glassy brown eyes. ''I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean to scare you.''

Shaking your head, you reached out to brushed his blond hair back. ''It's okay.''

It wasn't.

''Elliot?'' He hummed. ''Where did you get all that drug?''

''I stole a bunch from Rue's suitcase when Jules and I flushed it. She didn't notice me putting some in my pockets,'' he admitted with his eyes down.

You nodded. ''Was it- did you mean to overdose? Did you try to kill yourself?''

It was a hard question and you were scared of his answer.

''No.'' Elliot pulled his eyebrows, thinking for a bit. ''No. I...I was hurting and feeling so fucking guilty over the intervention. I wanted these feelings to disappear, to shut my mind, so I took more and more and- You can guess the rest.''

It was a relief to know that it was accidental. Reducing your emotions with drugs certainly wasn't the smartest way to deal with your unpleasant emotions, but it was the fastest.

If it had been intentional, you would've guilt-tripped yourself for not have seen the signs. Even now, you sort of feel guilty. You knew Elliot wasn't alright, yet you still let him go home.

''Stop it,'' Elliot said, his eyes flickering back to you.

You gave him a puzzled look.

''I can hear your thoughts. None of this is your fault, love.''

The guilt didn't disappear.

Elliot scooted back on the bed a little, careful to not disrupt or disconnect anything. ''Come here.''

Elliot taglist: @adashipsjegulus

#elliot #elliot euphoria #elliot x reader #elliot imagine #dominic fike #euphoria #euphoria fic #euphoria imagine

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bigteefsmallbrain · 3 years ago

Text

EVEN MORE SOULMATE AU HEADCANONS

Hiya! So, as promised, an Ouran High School Host Club Soulmate AU Headcanons for all 7 of the wonderful hosts! SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I WAS DUMB AND FORGOT TUMBLR EXISTED!! So without further adieu, I hope you enjoy it!

Tamaki Suoh

The host king

And a bit full of himself

We love him anyways though

He knows he has a soulmate, and he fully believes that they’ll come to the host club

He doesn’t consider you being a commoner

Not till Haruhi mentioned one of her friends having a soulmate like him

“Huh, my friend is always talking about their soulmate, and you act a lot like them.”

Just an off hand comment

“Oh? Well where is this friend? Are they coming to the host club?”

“Tamaki-senpai.. They go to a public school.”

It hit him like a truck, maybe his soulmate wasn’t going to magically appear

“SOULMATE IS THAT TRUE!?”

Insert a very long sigh on your end, in the middle of Math class, really?

“Soulmate, I can’t hear what’s going on, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“YOU’RE A COMMONER!?”

...I’m gonna hit him

You didn’t answer him, thinking he’d take the hint that A) You’re busy and B) That was SO rude!

He didn’t, he kept on blabbering to you about how he didn’t even THINK his soulmate could be a commoner

Forget hitting, I’m going to make him regret being born

Yeah, you’re not a happy camper to say the least

When he’s in Haruhi’s neighborhood he specifically mentions that to you

“Oh, haha, whoops looks like I'm gone for the weekend white boy”

Nah, you’re holed up in your apartment begging for them to leave soon

At the mall

“Hey soulmate guess where-”

“I see you, you don’t see me, I’m r-u-n-n-i-n-g”

Emo corner Tamaki

Till he realizes you don’t know what he looks like

“HAHA! NICE TRY SOULMATE! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT I LOOK LIKE!”

“Blonde hair, violet eyes, tall and lanky, lookin reeeeal out of place in a ‘commoner’ mall? I think I know”

Ah, back to the emo corner he goes

When you do finally meet, it’s because Kyoya had enough and personally invited you to the host club for a day

[Read: Bribed]

So you awkwardly walk up the steps, trying to figure out a map

And you get there, stopping in front of the door

Before getting an idea

Stepping to the side of the door

“Hey soulmate, I’m at the front gate-”

And you hear him scream in delight

Before seeing him zoom by you

That’s when you enter

“Y/N-chan, you are a terrible person”

“I know, it keeps me up at night”

When Tamaki does enter, looking very mopey and sad

All he hears is “By the way, I wasn’t at the gate”

His head snapped up so fast you’re worried it killed him

Until he leaps at you

“I KNEW YOU COULDN’T RESIST MY BEAUTY FOREVER SOULMATE!!”

You’re not being let go of, ANY time soon

Kyoya Ootori

deathnotedeathnotedeathnotedeathnote-

He is literally searching the globe for you

The family police force is constantly on the lookout for someone like you

And anytime you mention something new to Kyoya, he writes it down, then calls the chief of the search to tell them the new information

You can run, but you can’t hide forever

He will find you

Which is terrifying

He loves conversing with you

Literally THE highlight of his day

“The weather here sure is nice, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm! I am a bit scared to go outside though.”

Que his pen snapping as the club looks over at him in horror

“Oh? Why is that?”

“There’s men in S.W.A.T. uniforms, they seem to be looking for someone.”

Oh, it’s just the family police force-

Oh my god it’s his family police force

The most gleeful [and slightly terrifying] smile appears on his face

[The rest of the club are hiding behind a couch, watching]

He already has the force on the line, telling them to knock on nearby houses

When you open the door, it’s a bit of a stare off, before they grab you

Lots of kicking and screaming on your end

I haven’t done anything wrong!?

You haven’t, you’re just Kyoya’s soulmate, it’s my hc, it's how this works-

They just march up into the school per Kyoya's demand request

As soon as Kyoya sees you, he’s like

“Ah, Soulmate, how lovely to meet you in person!”

“I’m sorry, w h a t ?”

“Well you see, you’re my soulmate, it was only a matter of time-”

“So you resort to scaring the hell out of me and kidnapping me?”

“Now, when you put it like that-”

“You mean when I speak the truth of your actions?”

“I-”

“-would like to go home, maybe go back to my online classes, drink the rest of my tea? Thanks.”

Didn’t even give the man a chance

“Now hold on just a minute”

He’s a little annoyed, but also kind of impressed

“Walk and talk sweetheart, my teacher is gonna be pissed and YOU’RE explaining.”

Okay, that’s fair, he supposes

Kidnaped by private police force, meeting my soulmate, LIMO RIDE, is he flexing or is this his daily life!?

He admits, he’s showing off a tiny bit, but you’re his soulmate

Why wouldn’t he want to show off

he has to let you know he can support you!

Your teacher certainly likes him

by the end of the day you had an on campus pass

so you could continue your education from beside him

He’s not against bribery to get you to come onto campus

Clingy? Yes, he is, you’re not allowed to leave anymore

set in stone

No ifs, ands, or buts about it

Like stated earlier, you can run but you can’t hide forever

Way life is

Hikaru Hitachiin

Little devil no. 1

The first thing he did was ask for your clothing size

No! Wait! He’s not a pervert!!

He swears his mom is a seamstress!

I mean, he already matches with his brother, can you blame him for wanting to match with his soulmate too?

The need to match lowers after that first interaction for sure

[As soon as you meet it’s cranked back up to an 11 though]

He knows everything about you, er, what you let him know about you

Rough beginning, and you never fully trust him till you meet him in person because of it

He knows your favorite color

That you prefer one ice cream flavor over the other

Any odd hyperfixation you’ve had

He has a note app where he writes it down because he never wants to forget

He also really cares about your health, so whenever he sits down to eat, you’ll hear his voice ring in your head

“Have you eaten today?”

And it’s like, brunch for them or something and you’re like

“Are you.. Having a snack..?”

Cuz usually he asks you in the morning, noon, and evening, but now..

“What? No, it’s brunch silly!”

Why would his soulmate ask such a stupid question?

“Isn’t brunch a little outdated? Or like just a Sunday thing?”

“..wha?”

One brain cell between the twins, I’m telling you, and Kaoru doesn’t share

He actually leans over to him and asks why his soulmate said brunch was outdated or a Sunday thing

And Kaoru is so done with his brother because it’s the 5th time this week that he has to explain his soulmate is probably a commoner-

He most definitely has a bucket list for things he wants to do with/for you

He wants to make playlists based on how he feels when you first meet face to face

He wants to take you to concerts

He wants to dance with you in the rain

He wants to tell you the most corny pick up lines

He wants to wake up with you in his arms every morning

Yeah, he’s cliché, but he really doesn’t care

He likes talking with you, and is always really touched when you remember things he’s said

He was surprised the first time though

“You REMEMBER that!?”

“Well yeah, despite the.. Rough.. Beginning we had, you’re still my soulmate, why wouldn’t I remember things that happen in your life?”

QUE HIS HEART MELTING! HE CAN’T TAKE THIS LEVEL OF CARE!

It used to be just him and his brother, with an odd voice in his head, but now..

When the two of you meet, it’s probably through Haruhi, and he doesn’t realize it at first

You might have been waiting at her door when she was out for groceries

Might have seen the sleek black cars pull up

Might have heard your soulmate and his friends talk about the apartment complex

Oh boy, you milked the situation as much as you could

“Hey Haruhi! Who are your friends?”

Just really sweet and innocent at first

Whisper your plan in her ear, and honestly? She is so down, those twins got her into this mess, might as well make one of them suffer

“Hey there handsome~”

“Uh, I have a soulmate?”

“Why was that a question?”

He’s so confused, don’t you have a soulmate of your own? Why are you flirting with him?

He doesn’t know, and he has to awkwardly sit there until you say something that makes it click in his head

“Oh, by the way Haruhi, isn’t Brunch outdated? Or like, a Sunday thing?”

“IT’S YOU!?”

You’re cackling on the ground while Hikaru is registering that his soulmate was flirting with him

He turns so red, and he’s a ball of stutters

He’s not red, you’re red, and blind, and stupid-

Tsundere mode, activated

Kaoru Hitachiin

Little Devil no. 2

He also asked for your clothes size, but in a less creepy way

“Hey, my mom is a seamstress, you wanna match?”

He’s actually so cute

I wanna hug him

So bad

As stated previously, he and Hikaru share one brain cell, and it belongs to him, he doesn’t share

That being said, it’s only one brain cell

So while he’s not a creep, he is so very very oblivious

Like, you could give this boy a time and place

And he’ll just remind you that you needed to be there 5 minutes before

“Hey, you mentioned going to [Blank] Park at 12PM earlier, you should head out if you haven’t already”

“..I was inviting you in hopes that we could meet.”

“...OH! OH CRAP! HOLD ON!”

You could give this boy a full, detailed description of yourself

And he would only remember “Oh, they have [Color] hair.. I think..?”

Don’t get me wrong, he wants to meet you

Really, he does

And he remembers most of what you say or like

But when he gets nervous, anything you say goes in one ear, out the other

And he’s too embarrassed to ask again, afraid you’ll not like him

But he also completely forgets to give you a description of himself

So you’re sitting at a park, and all the sudden you watch him pass muttering about someone with [Wrong color] hair to someone on the phone?

You mutter a quick “You will not believe what I just saw” under your breath, fully ready to tell your soulmate about this confused, lost boy.

You see him pause, bidding goodbye to the person on the phone before saying “Yeah? What is it? I’m in the park by the way.”

Oh shit that’s your confused lost boy

So you decide, in a volume equal to his, to say

“Oh, there was this confused lost boy with salmon pink hair talking about a [Wrong color] haired person who just passed me.”

This boy whips his head around so fast, scanning for said wrong color, until your eyes meet and you wave with a smirk on your face

He sits down next to you, embarrassed

“Your hair is [Blank], not [Wrong color]”

“Yeah, pretty sure I told you that.”

He leans on you, whining

“I was nervous and forgot!”

He’s happy, ecstatic even, but so very, VERY embarrassed that he made a fool out of himself

God it’s adorable when he pouts

Please tease him, he’ll whine and complain, but it’s all in good fun

Get ready to meet his twin though now

Not even god can save you from Hikaru’s “Invasive dad mode”

“What college are you going to?”

“Are you gonna be able to support my brother?”

“You break his heart, nobody will find your body.”

R.I.P. You

Haruhi Fujioka

So frustrated with herself when she does realize it’s you

You, her neighbor

Who figured it out the week you both met

And has been patiently waiting for her to figure it out since

Also kind of mad at you for not telling her

But then you hit her with the

“I know you like figuring things out on your own, and don’t like help, so I just wanted you to be happy”

She’s mad, heart warmed and in love, but mostly mad

She gets over it though

Definitely figured it out when she got inducted into the Host Club

And you were oh so smug with her when she came by your flat to tell you

Kind of just clicked like

“Wait.. you knew this happened? I’ve only told-”

Pauses

Loading…

Blue screens

Then proceeds to hit you

“ALL THIS TIME!? AND YOU KNEW!?!?”

When she calms down and you stop laughing your guts into oblivion

You tell her that Ranka knew as well

Que her hitting the poor parent when they get home

The host club doesn’t realize that your her soulmate when you eventually do meet

Other than Kyoya

He knows everything

AKA Ranka totally told him

Probably asked you to join in with the genderswap episode to get Haruhi to stay in Ouran

Everyone else is like “Who’s that and why are they helping?”

Then Haruhi comes in like “Who the hell dragged my soulmate into this!?”

And since then you have known no peace

No really

You’ve become a bargaining chip of sorts

“I’m not doing it-”

“I’ll let [Name] on campus for a week”

“...I’m doing it”

Mitsukuni Haninozuka and Takashi Morinozuka

They’re a package deal shut up-

They weren’t too surprised that they were soulmates

They were more surprised to find that they were one of the very rare few to have a third soulmate

If you weren’t a baker or sweets lover before, you are now

Mitsukuni definitely has long winded conversations with you about different kinds of sweets

They both like to listen to you talk about how to prepare different dishes and deserts

Both have most definitely tried at least once to prepare something with you

Didn’t turn out how they imagined, but they tried

You probably started taking an interest in martial arts

Maybe not practicing or doing them, but you keep up with competitions and such

Takashi surprisingly speaks to you a lot, not necessarily about anything, but he enjoys talking to you

Customers at the host club are swooning and jealous, like, ‘where's my cute soulmate trio??’

Everyone is 100% convinced that when you meet you’ll bring the fluff and cute meter to 1 million

Also convinced that you’ll be in the host club

Mitsukuni and Takeshi know very different though

“Host club? Nah nah nah, Baking club? Hell yeah”

Baking extraordinaire

Would rather die than give people false hope or toy with their feelings

Like, you get why your soulmates do it, to make others happy

But you also know the repercussions

You’ve probably had to console one or both of them for feeling horrible about rejecting someone's feelings

Could never see yourself able to do such a thing

But also, you’re just not going to Ouran

You’re in Japan's top culinary school, you’re not downgrading to petty pink rich people school

[Mitsukuni definitely tried to convince you though]

[Takeshi did too, but more subtly]

Probably met when Ouran was holding some kind of baking competition with your school

And you were chosen to represent your school for the competition

And Mitsukuni dragged Takeshi to watch the showdown with the other hosts

They only realize that it’s you up there, competing against their school, when you begin muttering instructions to yourself, and they hear you speaking to them, but the person up there is doing the same thing-

Mitsukuni definitely had to be held back from jumping up there to see you

He was so pouty the whole time after that

Like, yes, he liked watching you work, but he wants to hold you more

Takeshi wants too as well, but knows it would distract you, and wants you to do well

They definitely had Mitsukuni come up to be a partial judge with the other judges

Until you state he’s one of your soulmates

Que the ENTIRETY of people watching shouting in surprise

And Takeshi and Mitsukuni both stated that, yes, they were their soulmate, but how did you know?

“You said you like sweets and were a part of Ourans Host Club Mitsukuni, and they announced you as ‘Ourans resident sweet loving Host’ It was kind of obvious”

Unofficial hostess/baker since that point

“Is [Name]-senpai coming around today?”

“Yeah! She’s bringing Persimmon Cookies today too!!”

I Hope you enjoyed reading the third set of Soulmate AU HC’s! If you would like to see any specific characters, don’t be afraid to leave a comment or submit an ask! I’ll be doing a fourth set later today/tomorrow, so be on the lookout! I hope you enjoyed reading!!!

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maximoffwitch · 3 years ago

Text

The Wake Up Call She Needed

pairing: emily prentiss x reader

warnings: slight angst and arguing

summary: emily’s new unit chief position is taking a toll on your relationship

a/n: my first fic posted here! i’m still setting up the rest of my blog so stay tuned for some more stories (criminal minds & marvel rn)

“You ready?” you asked, entering your girlfriend’s office.

Emily looked up from the files she was reading with an apologetic look on her face. Before she could even say anything, you cut her off.

“Seriously, Em? Again?”

This hadn’t been the first time Emily had to cancel one of your date nights for work. Usually, you were understanding, considering you were a BAU agent yourself, but ever since your girlfriend became unit chief, you’ve been seeing less and less of her.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N/N),” Emily apologized earnestly, “but Barnes demanded these papers on her desk by midnight tonight.”

“What? Are we in high school?” you chuckled sardonically. “You know it’s been weeks, if not months, since we’ve had a night to ourselves.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” she repeated, moving to stand in front of you, but by now her apologies meant little to you, “but I can’t do anything about it.”

“You’ve really changed,” you lowered your voice, as you could feel the rest of the team’s eyes on you through the blinds.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You should’ve known that based on her tone that this wasn’t going to end well, but you were too upset and tired to care.

“What I mean is that,” you sighed, running your hands through your hair, “ever since you became unit chief, you’ve become this different person.”

“I thought you were okay with me taking this position,” Emily argued. “You even encouraged me.”

“Yeah, I did, because you deserve it,” you replied sincerely, frustration still evident in your voice. “But I didn’t think you’d turn into a person I barely recognize.”

Emily parted her lips at a loss for words.

“The Emily Prentiss I know would tell Linda Barnes that she can have those papers first thing Monday morning so that she can spend some needed and well deserved time with her girlfriend,” you ranted. “I understand your workload, Em, I really do, and I know how much the team needs you, but I need you too.”

Emily bit her lip and looked down at her feet, feeling the shame take over her body. Before she could respond, a knock on the door interrupted you two.

“Agent Prentiss,” Linda Barnes stepped through the door and into the office, “may I speak with you?”

Glancing at you briefly, she added, “privately.”

You went to stand up for yourself, wanting to tell her that you were in the middle of an important conversation, but Emily spoke for you, “Of course, ma’am. Agent (Y/L/N) was just leaving.”

“Right,” you scoffed under your breath, pursing your lips. “I’ll see you Monday, Unit Chief Prentiss.”

You emphasized her official title, one that you rarely used, to convey your annoyance. Emily was smart; she would figure out that you wouldn’t be coming home tonight, most likely spending the weekend at Penlope’s.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you missed Emily’s longing eyes following you out.

As you stormed through the bullpen, heading towards Garcia’s bat cave, Spencer called out, “Everything alright, (Y/N)?”

“Not now, Reid,” you shook your head, as you tried to hide the tears pooling in your eyes.

You arrived in the doorway of your best friend’s office, the tears fully streaming down your face, the frustration you’d been bottling up finally boiling over.

“Can I stay at your place for the weekend?”

Looking up from her screen, Penelope immediately softened at the sight of you crying. “Oh, sweet cheeks, of course. Come here.”

You collapsed in her arms, letting the sobs overtake your body.

“Shh,” she cooed and rubbed soothing circles on your back. “Come on, let’s get out of here and you can tell me what happened over a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream. Sound like a plan?”

“That sounds good,” you gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Pen.”

“Anytime, love bug,” she pinched your cheek, as she gathered her stuff, and the two of you made your way out of Quantico.

Meanwhile, after Linda Barnes exited her office, Emily collapsed into her chair, dropping her head into her hands.

Your argument replayed in her mind, and she was embarrassed to admit that you were right. Ever since she became unit chief, the two of you had spent less and less time together, at least time away from cases.

“Hey,” JJ entered hesitantly, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Emily sighed, lifting her head with a forced smile.

“Emily, I know when you’re lying,” JJ took a seat in one of the chairs across from the other woman. “I also know that you and (Y/N) just had an argument and that she stormed out of here. So if you wanna talk about it…”

Emily picked at her nails, trying to gather her thoughts.

“We got into a fight over me being Unit Chief,” she admitted. “I’ve been spending so much time at work that I’ve been neglecting my duties as a girlfriend.”

JJ nodded knowingly, causing Emily to narrow her eyebrows.

“You don’t look so surprised.”

“Well, (Y/N) may have complained to me about it,” JJ admitted. “And it’s not like the rest of us haven’t noticed either.”

“What does that mean?” Emily titled her head. “Are my relationship problems so obvious to everyone?”

“No, of course not,” the blonde reassured. “I just meant…when’s the last time you came to a girls’ night or a dinner at Rossi’s?”

Emily took a moment to think about it before wincing.

Seeing the realization take over her friend’s face, JJ spoke up, “Emily, we all know, including (Y/N) how much this job requires of you, especially now that you’re our Unit Chief, but you’re also our friend and (Y/N)’s girlfriend.”

“Thanks, Jayje,” Emily said appreciatively. Looking down at the paperwork in front of her, she made the decision that you were more important than some silly old reports, especially ones Linda Barnes wanted.

“I gotta go talk to her,” she immediately stood up, grabbing her coat and bag.

“I think she went over to Penelope’s,” JJ informed.

Emily shot her a grateful smile, as she exited her office.

Speeding over to Penelope’s apartment, Emily rehearsed in her head what she was gonna say to you.

The buzz of the doorbell caused you and Penelope to halt your giggling and pause the TV.

“That must be the pizza,” the blonde chirped. “I’ll get it, don’t worry.”

As she swung open the door, the smile on her face was quickly replaced with a scowl.

“You have a lot of nerve showing up here, Emily Prentiss,” Penelope harshly whispered.

“I know, Pen, but I really need to talk to (Y/N),” Emily explained, desperation written all over her face.

“No,” Penelope asserted. “Do you know how badly you hurt her? Just give her this weekend and you guys can talk on—“

“Pen, what’s taking so long?” you asked, as you approached her, stopping as soon as you see your girlfriend standing in the door. “Oh.”

“Hey,” Emily sheepishly greeted. “Can we talk?”

“What about your paperwork?” you retorted.

Penelope whipped around, her eyes wide, “(Y/N)! I told her to leave but—“

“Penelope, it’s alright,” you squeezed her arm assuringly. “Thank you.”

Looking at Emily, you motioned your head behind her, “Let’s talk outside.”

The two of you moved to sit on the front porch, a moment of silence passing between you.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” Emily whispered, still staring out into darkness of the night. “I’ve been a terrible girlfriend lately, and I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but supportive these last couple of months, and I’ve just turned into this monster workaholic.”

Emily’s voice began to crack, as she quickly tried to wipe away the tears that were beginning to form.

“Emily, look at me,” with one hand, you gently lifted her chin so she could meet your eyes, and grasped her hand with the other. “You are in no way a monster, alright?”

Emily nodded with a sniffle.

“A workaholic on the other hand…” you trailed off, causing the both of you to share a small chuckle.

“Look, Em,” you sighed, as you ran your thumb over her knuckles, “this job is important, to the both of us, but at the end of the day, we,” you leaned forward to connect your foreheads, “are more important.”

“I know,” Emily breathed, “and I’m sorry that I’ve been too wrapped up in work to remember that. I’ve been so worried about trying not to disappoint you guys and fill Hotch’s shoes that I guess I forgot to be Emily.”

“You don’t need to be anybody but yourself, babe,” you cupped her face to wipe her tears. “We are proud to have you as our lead and to be your team. I’m so proud of you, alright? I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Emily leaned forward to connect your lips for a brief but tender kiss. “And I promise to be better, to make more time for us.”

“All I can ask is that you try, Em.”

“Well, I’ve already ditched the work Barnes gave me, so how about we go home and spend the weekend together?” Emily proposed, the light having returned to her eyes.

“I’d love that,” you beamed, bringing her in for another kiss.

A bright flash and a clicking noise caused the two of you to pull apart. Turning around, you saw Penelope standing there with her phone, taking a picture of you and Emily.

“Oops,” she gave you a sheepish look, “sorry. I was just letting the team know that the office OTP has made up.”

You looked at your girlfriend, as the you both were trying to conceal your laughter.

“Come on,” Emily said, squeezing your knee before taking your hand, “let’s go home.”

As your girlfriend helped you stand up, you turned back to your best friend, “Thank you, Penelope, truly.”

“Of course, (Y/N),” Penelope nodded knowingly.

Before you got into Emily’s car, you called back to Penelope, “Oh, and Pen?”

“Yeah?”

“Send me that picture, will you?”

“Duh!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the other woman, as you climbed into car.

“You ready for a weekend to ourselves?” Emily looked at you with a smirk, starting the engine.

“I can’t wait.”

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #my writing

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turtle-go-brrrr · 4 years ago

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General bayverse headcanons part 2

Splinter

A very light sleeper

Anytime something happens in the lair, he knows

He knows so many of his son’s secrets but act as if he didn’t to protect their feelings

Like that one time he saw Leo flex in front of his mirror (he never did it again because ‘what if it was Raph or Mikey’)

Or that one time he went to ask Donnie a question and realized too late he was having some... alone time... and Donnie tried to play it off to save what was left of his dignity: “haha no I’m not doing anything, I’m fine, how can I help you?” but left a tab open

Let’s just say Splinter knows way more about his sons than he wish he did

He feels honored every time one of them, or hell, April or Casey, come to him for advice or just to vent

He’s jsut so happy to know they trust him

He loves watching movies with them

Doesn’t really understand pop culture but is thrilled when they take the time to explain it to him anyway

He keeps every single drawing Mikey ever made him, he has multiple boxes of them and he keeps his favorite in his room

It takes so much space, but they’re really important to him

Raph made him a really soft scarf that he wears every time they go to the surface (it reassures him)

He also has a sweater and a blanket, and he loves bragging about them: “Oh, this? Yes, my son made it for me :) Isn’t he talented :)”

He finds Donnie’s smarts both impressive and intimidating

Sometimes he’s scared he will never truly understand him or that he won’t have anything else to teach him

But then Donnie comes to him when he can’t sleep or had a nightmare, and he feels warm inside

He’s really scared for Leo

He has so much pressure on his shoulder and so many responsabilities, he’s terrified he will break someday

But Leo knows he can count on his family to support him if anything turns sour and is learning to open up (thanks to Splinter)

All in all, he’s the proudest dad there could be and definitely bragged and showed embarassing memories to April and Casey when they joined the mutants

His favorite animal is the canary

April

Mom Friend ™

She’s the one to bring them snacks or useless trinkets they might like

Leo thinks it’s stupid and they should hoard that kind of things

(he does anyway)

She’s also the one to bring medical supplies to the lair when they’re getting short on them

She knows many people because of her job, and comes so often to the pharmacy that the people who work her eknow her and know to not ask too many questions

She doesn’t care about the sight of blood but the smell makes her sick

She still follows Splinter’s instruction when doing stitches and she took a few first aid courses with Casey

She’s the one who takes care of the biggest bugs of the lair

She’s also the one they all go to when they have an embarrassing question to ask (the kind of stuff you’re too embarrassed to ask one of your parents, no matter how close you are)

Doesn’t really listen to anyone, really

Except maybe Splinter from time to time

But like, if she wants to investigate something messy or dangerous, she won’t let anyone stop her

She won’t run straight into danger, she’s not stupid, but she’s not gonna back off just because it might be dangerous

“Okay, April, I’m sorry but you’ll have to sit this one out, it’s way too dangerous for a hum-” “She’s already inside”

She’s brave like that <3

The best at Just Dance

Even beat Raph from time to time

She has a terrible singing voice tho and loves to scream-sing just because she knows it drives Leo crazy

Sometimes will get picked up by one of the boys and just acts as if nothing hapened and keep talking about whatever the conversation was while being carried around everywhere

Speaks 3 other languages to varying degrees of fluentness: Spanish (fluent), French (still learning but she’s getting there), Arabic (beginner)

She knows insults in a lot of other languages tho (you know, just in case ;) )

The only one who doesn’t pull pranks on Casey (she takes pity on him and he gives her kisses when she takes his side so win-win)

Her favorite animal is the fox

Casey

Pray for him

He’s so fed up with their sibling nonsense

He’s always in the middle of their fights and he’s tired of this

But he’s even more tired of being the victim of their endless pranks (especially Raph and Mikey)

The payback is worth it tho

Surprisingly good with kids

Especially troubled kids (he used to be one, so he knows what to say to help them)

Also really found of small animals

Unlike Mikey who talks to them as equals, Casey baby talks and it’s both adorable and kind of silly

He’s well known in most of the rescue centers of the city because he always brings in stray animals here

Also volunteer in some of them from time to time

He’s really conflicted because of all of the horrible things othe cops do and he often wants to quit because of that

But if he leaves, he knows no one will try to make a change

He believes he can make things right and tries his best to callout his collegues when they say or do fucked up things

Also completely understand all the hate against cops, and don’t hesitate to let everyone know it’s justified when his colleagues try to play the victim

Despite his anger issues he tries to keep a level head when on the job

He wants to be a good cop, but being a good person is even more important (and almost got him fired multiple times, the only thing keeping him from that being his connection to Chief Vincent)

This is why he’s also doing his vigilante stuff at night

He knows that sometimes, the law won’t protect the most vulnerable people

But that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t

Once accidentally cut himself on the left with a piece of glass

He broke a glass jar, cleaned it up but forgot one little piece, and later stepped on it

It didn’t cut his foot, but he felt something under it and tried to get it off by rubbing his foot against his leg

Hence the stupid cut

Most of his scars aren’t really from his numerous fights, they’re just stupid injuries like that

His favorite animal is the cheetah

#bayverse tmnt #tmnt headcanons #tmnt leonardo #tmnt #tmnt april #tmnt casey jones #tmnt splinter #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #my writing

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ssahoodrathotchner · 4 years ago

Text

Love My Way

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

Summary: you love Aaron Hotchner at all times, but especially when it’s a late night in the office and he’s loaned you his jacket

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: none

A/N: just a little something short and sweet bc i love soft!Hotch and moments like these

Masterlist

---

You wake with a start, head lifting from where it was resting on your arms, which were folded on your desk…? Taking a moment to gauge your surroundings, you notice that not only has everyone else gone home, but there appear to be more files in the stack next to you than there were earlier in the day. Bastards. Sitting up in your chair, you feel something start to slide off your shoulders and you grab at it before it can slide completely off you. Taking a deep breath to clear the post-nap haze from your mind, you inhale and immediately recognize the scent of Aaron Hotchner. What. Somewhat belatedly, you realize that at some point while you slept, your boyfriend left his office—probably to get more coffee—saw you sleeping, and decided to drape his suit jacket around you. Be still my beating heart you think, pulling his jacket closer with a smile and a glance to his office.

More awake now, you look to the stack of files on your right, then the one on the desk in front of you, half finished, and you decide to get to work. It takes you forty-five minutes to finish the consult and by the time you’re done, you’re yawning again. Knowing it’s already going to be a long night and that Aaron won’t leave unless you make him, you decide to keep him company in his office. Pulling on his jacket so you wear it properly, you grab a couple more files from your desk before making your way to his office. Pushing the door open, you’re greeted by the sight of Aaron Hotchner, tie discarded, sleeves rolled up, and hair slightly messy writing away at his desk. The light from his desk lamp casts shadows on his face and you can already tell he won’t be stopping anytime soon.

The door closes with a soft click behind you, causing Aaron to look up. His eyes trace over you, lingering on the way his jacket engulfs you and the way you’ve pushed the sleeves up so you can use your hands. His face softens in a smile and he sits back in his chair as you walk closer. Placing the files on the edge of his desk, you lean over to kiss his cheek.

“Hi, love,” you say softly, running a hand through his hair. Aaron lets out a hum and his eyes close in contentment as you continue to play with his hair and you can’t help but smile to yourself. If only the team could see him now, you think. Penelope would love to know about this. Combing you hand through his hair one more time, you pull back and admire how handsome he looks.

“How much longer are you staying?” you ask as Aaron opens his eyes again.

“Two to three hours, depending on what’s needed for these consults,” he says gesturing at the files closest to your hip. “Jack’s at a sleepover tonight, so I’m trying to take advantage of this time for work,” he finishes with a shrug.

“Well in that case,” you say pointing to the files you had placed on his desk, “I’ll join you.”

You lean down to kiss the top of his head, and before you can take a step back, Aaron grabs your hand and places a kiss on your palm and then tugs you down to his level so he can give you a quick kiss.

“Have a good nap?” he asks while you grab your files and get comfortable in one of the chairs across from him.

“Delightful,” you say with a huff. “I can’t believe I fell asleep at my desk.”

“Again,” Aaron chuckles, leveling you with a pointed look.

Rolling your eyes, you settle down and turn your attention to the first file in your small stack. You feel Aaron’s eyes on you for a moment longer before he too returns his attention to the paperwork at hand.

Working in silence, save the scratching of pen on paper, is comforting, especially with Aaron working across from you. While you love your job and literally being out in the field hunting down killers, you also appreciate these moments. The quiet ones where you can help people through writing out preliminary profiles and letting them put the pieces together from the safety of the BAU, and more specifically, Aaron’s office. Moments like these were also your favorite because Aaron tended to shed his stoic exterior and allow himself a little space to be softer; Aaron instead of Hotch. This was the man you fell in love with. The one with ink smeared on his hand from writing too fast, shirt undone just enough to get your heart racing, and kind enough to wrap you in his own suit jacket because he caught you napping at your desk. Not that you didn’t appreciate him when he had to act like the Unit Chief of the BAU—especially when he had to raise his voice or glare at an unsub because holy shit is he attractive when he’s in command. But this version of Aaron, your Aaron, you love with each passing second.

“Hey,” you murmur, catching his attention. “I love you.”

A soft smile fills Aaron’s face and you can see him physically relax as he reaches for your hand. Thumb tracing back and forth across your knuckles, he pulls your hand closer so he can lean down to kiss your fingertips.

“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he says pressing a kiss to your palm. “Even when you fall asleep at your desk.”

“Hey, watch it Hotchner,” you chastise, pulling your hand back. “Or I’ll keep your jacket.”

Shaking his head, Aaron rolls his eyes before settling back in his chair, arms crossed. Your teasing smile is cut short by a yawn that makes you realize just how tired you actually are. I guess the impromptu nap didn’t help after all. Aaron glances down at his watch and then the stack of files next to him before closing the one in front of him and starting to gather his things.

“Come on, Sweetheart, let’s call it a night,” he says grabbing his tie from the back of his chair and throwing it in his briefcase.

Unfurling yourself from your chair, you stand and stretch, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as some part of your back cracks. Aaron winces. Pushing the sleeves of your (his) jacket up your arms, you grab the files you had been working on before taking Aaron’s hand as he turns off the lights and holds the door for you to exit his office. Stopping by your desk, you drop the files and grab your bag. Stopping for a second, you snag a few files from the pile on your desk before putting them down right in the middle of Prentiss’ desk and then moving to put some on Morgan’s just because. And they probably thought you wouldn’t notice. Nodding to yourself, you turn to Aaron who has an amused smile on his face. Wordlessly, you step into his side and he wraps an arm around you while your own sneaks around his waist. Your fingers find one of his belt loops and you slip your fingers under it. You can’t help but lean more heavily into Aaron’s side as the two of you wait for the elevator.

“You really should get more sleep,” he says pressing a kiss to your hair.

“I know,” you groan. “Stay with me tonight?”

“Of course, Sweetheart,” he says as the elevator doors open and the two of you step in.

“Good,” you sigh. “I always sleep better with you.”

Aaron’s arm tightens around you and although you can’t see his face, you have a feeling he’s smiling again. Walking to your cars, you hug Aaron before disentangling yourself from him.

“See you at home, Sweetheart,” he says as you climb into your car.

Your heart flutters and you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face because yeah, you and Aaron are going home. And you can’t wait to fall asleep next to the man you adore and then wake up tomorrow and do the job you both love—even though it made you fall asleep at your desk, but that’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #cm fanfic #fanfiction #andi writes

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moon-light-jukebox · 5 years ago

Text

“If you want me to, I will.” [Hotch x Reader]

masterlist

Summary: Reader has worked for Aaron Hotchner for the past 6 months as the babysitter to his son, Jack.

Pairing: Hotch x (Female) Reader

Word Count: 7.4k – she thicc

Category: Smut/Fluff…and some angst because of who I am as a person.

Content Warning:

A/n: We all know that Hotch’s favorite album is the Beatles "White Album." And I have odd choices for songs that I use as lullabies. This idea came into my head and never left. This video of Billie Eillish singing part of the song is the closest to the structure of how I imagined it. Okay, okay, look, I know Roy wasn’t diagnosed until season 10. But I am taking creative liberties because I needed Jack to be younger.

Meaning this would be set around season 7. Hotch would be about 41, Jack is around 7; so, I made Reader around 26, giving them a 15-year age gap. Please don’t check my math. 😌

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized texts are Reader’s thoughts.

-- If you want me to, I will. --

I was disoriented when I woke up. This isn’t my bed, I thought groggily. Wait…this isn’t even my house.

“Y/n,” a deep voice rumbled beside me.

I jackknifed up into a sitting position, eyes wide and my face flushed with embarrassment. “Mr. Hotchner!” I quickly brought my hand up to my cheek to make sure I hadn’t drooled in my sleep. Because that would really be the cherry on top of my embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep. This is so embarrassing.”

Mr. Hotchner had been crouched down, putting himself level with his living room couch; the same couch he came home and found me sleeping on. In all the months I’d worked for the Hotchner/Brooks family, I’d never seen Mr. Hotchner smile anytime he wasn’t talking to his son, Jack. He always looked incredibly serious and sometimes incredibly sad; but the normal scowl was missing from his face as he looked at me, I noticed, watching him rise to a standing position.

“It’s fine, y/n. It’s after 1 o’clock in the morning.” He shifted, turning to go open the gun safe he kept in the part of the living room where his desk sat. Mr. Hotchner, or Hotch, as he kept telling me to call him, was the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit with the FBI. Which was just a very fancy way of saying he was a profiler that was in charge of all the other profilers. Some people just look like the jobs they have; Mr. Hotchner was one of those people. “Thank you for staying late, I didn’t think things were going to run this long. I didn’t even know you were here until I called Jessica a few hours ago.”

“Oh, right,” I mumbled as I began to gather my things from the coffee table and put them into my bag. “She called me a little after 4; something happened with her dad, I think.” I zipped my bag shut, standing up quickly. “I didn’t mind helping out, Mr. Hotchner.”

He made a sound that was almost a chuckle. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Hotchner, y/n. I know I’m a lot older than you, but that makes me feel ancient.”

“You’re not that much older than me,” I protested.

He looked incredulous. “Y/n, you’re still in college.”

Well, that stings a bit. “I’m in graduate school,” I said, my voice dampening a little bit. “I’m almost 27.”

Mr. Hotchner blinked at me. “Really? I thought you were younger than that…”

“My age didn’t come up in the numerous background checks you did on me?” I scoffed, immediately wincing as the words flew out of my mouth. “Oh my god, I just keep making this worse.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner. For falling asleep on your couch…and for every moment after that. I’ll just go now.”

"Y/n," he called. "hang on, it's really late, and…I still need to pay you."

Jesus. “It is late, Mr. Hotchner, that’s why I need to head home.” I forced an awkward laugh. “I have class at 9 am.”

He pushed his hands into his pockets, regarding me in a way that made me squirm. I wasn’t used to a person paying attention to me the way Mr. Hotchner did. It didn’t make me uneasy; I just felt like I couldn’t hide anything from him…which made me uneasy. “What classes are you taking this semester?”

I don’t know why it stung so much that he knew virtually nothing about me. I’d worked for him for 6 months; he wasn’t obligated to know anything about me other than how I took care of his son. “I’m actually done with my course work this semester,” I mumbled. “I’m a TA…in a class that starts at 9 am.” It doesn’t matter, you’re just tired. “You-you can just pay me for tonight the next time I’m over. It’s not like you’re gonna stiff me.” I walked over to the door and threw a very quick “goodnight, Mr. Hotchner” over my shoulder before I scurried out.

I missed the quiet “Aaron. You can call me Aaron.”

The entire drive home, my thoughts were on Aaron Hotchner. None of this was what I expected when I took this job. I had been in graduate school for 2 years now. I had already gotten my master’s degree and had been accepted into the Ph.D. program. There are many branches of psychology, but I had always been fascinated with cognitive psychology; it seemed only natural that that is what I would pursue in graduate school. Once it became time to focus my interest in preparation for my dissertation, I decided to study the cognitive decay in Alzheimer's patients. We knew that they lost memories, but I wanted to explore how their basic cognitive functions were affected in certain settings.

As part of my program, I was a TA in an intro psych class, and I conducted my research at the hospital connected to the university. That’s where I first met Jessica Brooks. Despite getting a stipend for my teaching assistant work, I had been taking odd jobs to help make ends meet; D.C. wasn't cheap. When I mentioned that I had experience with kids, Jessica had immediately told me that she was needing help caring for her nephew in the wake of her father, Roy's diagnosis. She wanted to keep him at home, which was both admirable and time-consuming.

I wasn’t prepared for the gigantic background check that I was subjected to. I very quickly learned that my potential employer had some power at the FBI. Jessica had raved to him about me, so he agreed to meet with me. When Jessica told me he worked for the FBI, I was expecting a bureaucrat, kind of short, receding hairline, soft from sitting behind a desk all day.

Aaron Hotchner was none of those things. He was a total cliché; he was tall, dark, and handsome. His eyes were such a deep brown they were almost black, his hair was black, and he towered over me. His hand was firm when he shook mine. I initially thought he didn’t like me because of the scowl he wore on his face; now I knew that was just his default expression. I’m pretty sure he invented Resting Bitch Face. I think it was my meeting with Jack that sealed the deal. We had clicked right away. The 7-year-old was impressed by my knowledge of both DC and Marvel comics. I could still remember our first meeting so clearly; when in a move that I now know is so much like his father, he had asked me an interview question of his own.

“What is Spiderman’s middle name?” the boy had asked with a suspicious squint of his eyes.

This kid is poser checking me, I had thought with amusement. “That would depend on which Spiderman you’re referring to. Assuming it’s Peter Parker, his middle name is Benjamin.”

We were best friends after that.

I loved Jack; I really did. And I was paid well enough that he was the only child I babysat for, the rest of my time spent working on my research and plotting my dissertation. It was clear that Aaron Hotchner loved his son, and he felt guilty for not being around more. He was fierce and intimidating any other time, but once he was with his son, his entire face would transform. His smiles came easier, his eyes twinkled, and he didn’t seem so scary anymore.

None of that is why he made me nervous, though. What made me so nervous is the fear that one day I was going to spend enough time with him for him to see the feelings I had so stupidly developed for him.

The very next night, I was hiding in the kitchen floor in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment.

“Ready or not, here I come!” the little voice called out before his feet started stomping loudly across the floor.

From my position behind the kitchen counter, I tried very hard to remain silent, despite my amusement. Jack Hotchner was many wonderful, wonderful things. Sneaky was not one of them. Which is why I wasn’t surprised when I heard his little feet hurry towards me, and I didn’t lose my balance when he turned the corner and launched himself at me. “Oomph!” was the only reasonable sound to make when a tiny human slammed into you.

Jack was delighted. “I FOUND YOU!”

My response was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Jack was off me in a flash, barreling towards the living room. “Daddy!”

Mr. Hotchner made a similar “oomph” noise when Jack jumped on him, confirming my theory. I rose to my feet quickly, smoothing down my clothes.

“We were playing hide and seek, Daddy!” Jack informed his father. “I found y/n every time! She never found me once!” His chest puffed out with pride, making my face break into a smile.

“You’re just an excellent hider, Jack-attack.”

Mr. Hotchner’s eyes settled on my face then, for just a moment I saw something so sad in those eyes that the breath seized in my lungs.

He cleared his throat, seeming to shake off whatever he was thinking before smiling at his son. “I’m glad you had a good time with, y/n, buddy.”

Jack nodded vigorously. “I helped make dinner!”

“You did?” He questioned in fake astonishment. “When did you make dinner?”

“Tonight!”

Mr. Hotchner looked at me quizzically. “Oh, um, I wasn’t actually supposed to watch Jack tonight…but Jessica called and asked if I could. It was really last minute, and she’d already bought some stuff to make dinner…” I trailed off. “I hope that’s okay. Jesus Christ, y/n. You’re a 26-year-old woman, get it together.

His attention moved from me to his son. "Jack, go get changed into your pj's. It's almost bedtime." When Jack's mouth opened to protest this great injustice, his father went on. "You can tell y/n bye when you're done."

So much for a speedy escape, I thought. Instead, I just smiled at him. "Yep, I'll be right here, little man." Satisfied with this, Jack jumped out of his father's arms and ran towards his room.

“Why did Jessica need you to come over? Did something happen with Roy?” He looked genuinely worried, walking into the kitchen to stand near me.

I reached out and put a hand on his arm without thinking. "Oh, oh god no, nothing like that." Realizing I was touching him, I snatched my hand back like he'd burned me. "Sorry. She…she-um had a date."

His eyebrows rose so high they almost hit his hairline. “A date?” he asked, disbelief dripping from his words.

I chuckled. “That’s what she told me.”

He walked back into the living room then, leaning back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he focused his dark gaze on me. “What about you?”

“…What about me what?”

“Does Jessica ever have to cover for you when you have dates?”

If Aaron Hotchner hadn’t made me so nervous, I might have picked up on how he phrased that question. As it happens, all I could do was fidget under his gaze. “Oh,” I chuckled nervously. “Ah, no. She doesn’t have to do that. I don’t really date.”

That had one of his eyebrows rising, his arms crossing across his chest. "Why?"

Because I want you to crack my back like a glowstick. “Um…you know, it’s hard to find the time.”

Thankfully Jack chose that moment to come barreling out of his room, charging full force at me. “You’re still here!” he exclaimed.

I smiled down at him when his arms wrapped around my hips. I put one hand on the back of his head, the other on his back, giving him a squeeze. “Of course I am! I couldn’t leave without telling you goodbye.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he mumbled.

My throat worked as a sudden wave of emotion hit me. "Oh, Jack," my voice was thicker than usual when I spoke. "I don't like leaving you either, but you'll see me before you know it. I promise."

Once we had finally pried Jack off me, Mr. Hotchner went to take him to bed. He turned to me when he scooped Jack up in his arms. “Thank you for today.”

“It’s no problem, Mr. Hotchner.”

“You know you don’t have to call me that,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Most people call me Hotch. Or you could call me Aaron.”

I didn't know what to say to that; all I could do was give him an awkward smile. I was gone before he came back into the living room. I didn't want to leave, I never did, but I couldn't risk being alone with…Aaron.

The following Thursday night, my phone started ringing just after 11:30. Glancing at it, I saw it was Jessica. “Hey,” I said in greeting.

“Hey, y/n,” she said, sounding frazzled. “I have a huge favor to ask. Dad’s home health nurse had to leave early tonight.” “Is something wrong with Melinda?” I hope not. She’s the sweetest.

“No, I don’t think so. But she needs to go home and there’s no one to sit with Jack. But Aaron isn’t home yet…”

“I’ll be there in 20.”

Which is why I was now in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment after midnight in a pair of shorts that were so short I only ever wore them at home and a t-shirt that I had had for forever. Jessica had sounded so upset when she called, I hadn't even thought to change. She had promised to be back as quick as she could; she said that Mr. Hotchner was flying back from a case, and she didn’t expect him until 5 a.m. at the earliest.

When I first arrived, I had tried to watch TV, my mind too wired to sleep, even though I had class at 9 am in the morning. Sighing, I glanced over at the clock to see it was just after 1:45 in the morning.

“Fuuuuuuck,” I whined out loud. I have to go to sleep; even if it’s just a little nap. I remembered Jessica had left some chamomile tea here for the nights she stayed over to watch Jack. Finding the kettle and the tea itself was no problem; the problem presented itself when I had to get a mug to put the tea in.

I had never considered myself a particularly short person; sure, I had to stretch to get things from time to time, but everybody did that. Looking up into the upper cabinets in the Hotchner house had me reconsidering that. The mugs were on the very top shelf and try as I might, I just couldn’t seem to reach them; my fingers kept grazing over the ceramic.

“Goddamnit,” I mumbled in a huff. What is the point to put mugs way the fuck up there? Some of us are a perfectly normal height…but noooo I have to work for giants. I braced my hands on the countertop as I heaved myself up on to said countertop. Once my knees were in place, I got the offending cup without further problems.

I blame how focused I was on my task for my not hearing the front door open, or the footsteps that followed. Which is why I had a mild heart attack when I heard a voice that sounded highly amused say from behind me, “What are you doing?”

Several things happened all at once, and very quickly. I let out the most embarrassing squeak in all of history, I lost my balance on the counter and the cup fell from my hand. The cup crashed to the floor and shattered. My fate might have been the same but two large hands caught me, gripping my hips from behind. I looked down to see his long fingers wrapping around my waist, gripping me tightly; my difficulty breathing then had nothing to do with how scared I was.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said softly, still not releasing me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, I get it,” I said lightly, attempting to act like I wasn’t going into cardiac arrest because he was touching me. “You’re a very stealthy FBI agent. It was bound to happen.”

He chuckled before his hands pushed my hips so I was twisting around, my legs shifting until I was sitting on the countertop, staring into the same dark eyes I thought about far too often. They weren’t as harsh as they usually were; tonight, they were soft and warm, and they made my pulse race a bit faster.

I moved to get off the counter when the hands that were still on my hips stopped me. “Hang on, let me clean this up first. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Fantastic, I thought, hiding my face in my hands. It seems I was incapable of not making a fool out of myself in front of this man.

He worked quickly while I debated changing my name and fleeing the country; in the next moment, he was standing in front of me again. "What's wrong?"

“Oh, nothing,” I said, not moving my hands. “Just dying of embarrassment.”

Aaron actually laughed at that, moving closer to stand between my thighs, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of my hips. “Why are you embarrassed?”

I dropped my hands then. “Because this is becoming a pattern! First, I fell asleep on your couch, then I almost fell off your counter and cracked my head like an egg.” I bit my lip, shifting under his gaze. “I’m sorry and thank you for catching me.”

“I didn’t mind,” he said softly.

He still had that soft look on his face, but he was smiling too like he was enjoying my embarrassment. He probably is. I had never been this close to him before. I didn’t know his eyes weren’t just one flat color of brown, but that lighter shades of brown whirled throughout. I had never felt the heat of his body before, but now I was so close I could smell him. Why does he have to smell good? I whined internally. If he just stunk, I could get over this.

This was exactly why I tried very hard to stay as far away from him as possible because I lost the ability to think clearly whenever I was with him. I couldn't stop my eyes from moving down to his lips. I was eye level with him from my position on the counter; all I had to do to brush my lips across his was lean forward, so that’s exactly what I did. His body stiffened slightly at the first touch of my lips to his. I pulled back, ready to apologize when his hand wrapped around the back of my head and pulled me back to him. There was nothing soft about this kiss. His free hand gripped my thigh, my hands held on to his shirt, trying to pull him closer. My tongue brushed against his mouth before he sucked on the tip of it, causing me to shudder. He took a step forward as his tongue twirled around mine. I could feel him when he settled against me; he was hard, and I found myself shifting my hips to rub against him.

The shrill ringing of his phone broke us apart suddenly. He was panting, his cheeks were slightly flushed. I thought I heard him let out a “fuck” under his breath as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone.

“Hey Jessica,” he answered.

Now that our moment was broken, I felt very self-conscious. What the fuck did I just do?! He is my boss. He is Jack’s dad. Aaron took a step back and I slid off the counter. This turned out to be a very bad idea on my part; my body brushed down the front of his, causing me to bite my lip to silence the moan that threatened to escape.

“Yeah, I landed a little while ago,” he said as I left the kitchen.

WhatthefuckWhatthefuck. I heard him end the call with Jessica before he quickly walked into the living room. A look of relief washed over his face when he saw me. “I thought you’d try to slip away.”

“I thought about it,” I told him honestly.

“Listen, y/n, about that in the kitchen,” he began.

I held up my hands. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hotchner. I don’t know why I did that; I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I was giving him an out because I couldn’t handle hearing the rejection I knew was coming. “I just…I guess we got caught up in the moment? And you’re really tired, I’m sure. I’m so sorry.” I was rambling now. “If you don’t want me to watch Jack anymore-“

“Y/n, no,” he interrupted. “No, this…you’re right, it was just a heat of the moment thing. It happens. I’m sorry I lost myself for a moment.” He cleared his throat, his face still set in softness. “Jack loves you. He doesn’t need to suffer for any more of my mistakes.”

Mistakes. The word hollowed me out and left me cold. I just nodded. “Right,” I said in what I hoped was an even tone. “Just a mistake. I should get going. It’s really late.”

Which is how I found myself driving home at almost 3 in the morning with tears running down my cheeks. A mistake.

Things went back to normal after that night. I continued to avoid Aaron Hotchner at all costs and he…did whatever he did. I tried to hide the hurt whenever I did happen to see him, but it was so hard when I could still feel the tingle from his lips on mine.

A few days after the “mistake,” I was babysitting Jack again. He’d went to bed at his normal 8:30 and all was quiet. I decided to do some TA work while I waited for Mr. Hotchner to come home. I was halfway through grading an essay when I heard the first noise come from Jack’s room. Lifting my fingers from the keys of my computer, I waited to see if I heard another sound. I didn’t have to wait long; not even a minute passed before I heard a strained cry. Jumping up, I hurried down the hall to Jack’s bedroom.

Cracking the door open I called, “Jack-attack? Are you okay, little man?” I didn’t see him right away; he had hidden under his covers and curled up into a little ball. “Hey, Jack. It’s just y/n.” I sat down on the edge of his bed. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

I saw the lump under the blankets start to move hesitantly before I saw his brown hair peak out of the blanket near his pillow. His eyes were wide and with the light shining in from the hall, I could see tears gleam in them. “Oh, buddy,” I cooed. “Did you have a bad dream?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah…there was a bad man…and my daddy didn’t come save me.”

I felt my breath seize in my chest. Jessica had told me a brief version of what happened to Jack's mother a few years ago. "Jack, you know your dad would always do whatever he had to do to come to save you." I shifted my position on the bed until I was sitting beside him. "He'd never let anything bad happen to you." Jack started inching closer to me. I held out my arms and smiled when he lunged for me; I wrapped him in a tight hug, rubbing circles on his back.

“My dad just isn’t home a lot anymore. He has a lot of work to do,” he mumbled into my shirt.

“Your dad would be home if he could, Jack.” I couldn’t quite keep the sadness out of my voice. It wasn’t fair to either Jack or his dad that he had to be away so much.

“I know,” the little boy whispered. “I just miss him sometimes.”

“Do you want to call him?” I offered. “I don’t think he’d mind.”

Jack just shook his head. “No, it’s okay.” He turned his face up to look at me. “Will you stay with me?”

I moved so he lay beside me with my left arm still squeezed around him. “Of course, bud.” I scooted down the bed so I was reclining instead of sitting straight up, pulling the cover-up over him again. "Do you want me to read you another story?"

He just shuffled under his covers, looking at me with the bashful innocence of childhood. “Can you sing to me until I fall asleep?”

I wasn’t the biggest fan of singing in front of people, but how could I turn this little face down? I just nodded. “Do you have any requests?”

“Nope,” he answered with a little grin on his face.

Unfortunately, at that moment every single lullaby I had ever know left my head. I couldn’t think of a single traditional lullaby. So, I decided to improvise. I started singing slower songs I knew, some of them might not have been appropriate for a 7-year-old’s lullaby, but I don’t think Jack cared that much.

He was almost out, drifting on the edge between deep sleep and awake. My arm was still around his shoulder, he was still snuggled to my side. I decided one more song would be enough, which meant I pulled out my second Beatles song of the night.

“Who knows how long I’ve loved you?

You know I love you still.

Will I wait a lonely lifetime?

If you want me to, I will.

For if I ever saw-“

I glanced up, immediately sensing there was someone else in the room. To my horror, Jack’s father was standing in the doorway, staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I swallowed nervously, then I turned to press a kiss against Jack’s soft forehead before I gently detangled myself from him. I straightened my clothes that to my further embarrassment had shifted around because I was laying with a wiggly child, then, attempting to keep my face impassive, I walked to the door, moving around his father as I exited.

Mr. Hotchner walked into the room and checked on his son, while I moved into the living room to gather my things. I wonder if he just left the money by the door, I mused. If he did, I could just make a dash for the door. I mean, if he didn’t, he could always just pay me next time. Sadly, my plans were escape were foiled yet again by the man in question entering the room.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I know he was up past his bedtime. I put him down at 8, but he had a nightmare." I was babbling, not meeting his eyes, my gaze very intently focused on my bag. "He asked me to stay with him until he fell asleep…" I finally looked up, shrugged, and said, "He's very hard to say no to."

“You don’t have to apologize for being nice to my son, y/n,” he said softly. “That’s one of my favorite songs on the White Album, you know.”

I hadn’t known that. “Mr. Hotch-“

He took a step towards me before I finished speaking. “Y/n, please, I can barely handle this as it is. Please call me Aaron.”

I just blinked up at him. “So, ‘Hotch’ is off the table now?”

That had a soft smile curving his lips upward. "That was a limited-time deal. You should have been quicker." I saw his hand rise up slowly, so slowly that I would have had time to move away…but I just couldn’t. He brushed my hair back from my face, his eyes were two pools of black in the dim light, they were swirling with something that made my stomach flutter.

“Aaron,” I breathed, having no idea what I was going to say.

He let out a soft sigh, turning his eyes upwards. When he brought them back down to mine, his hand slid from its place near my ear to cradle the back of my head. His eyes searched mine for a moment before his shoulders dropped slightly. “Fuck it,” he muttered before he leaned down and sealed his lips over mine.

I might have thought this kiss would be questioning or unsure, but there was nothing unsure about it. Aaron kissed me like he was starving for me. His teeth caught my bottom lip and tugged as he pulled away. “It wasn’t a mistake,” he breathed before bringing his lips more firmly against mine.

My hands began to move over his body; one of my hands grabbed his tie and used it to pull him closer to me, the other reached up to brush against the short, soft hair on the back of his neck. “It wasn’t?” I questioned when we broke away for air.

Aaron’s lips moved across my cheek, leaving soft kisses until he reached my ear. “No, sweet girl, it wasn’t.” His mouth moved down to my neck; his kisses turning into bites that were sure to become brushes. I didn’t care, I needed him. My hands moved to his shirt, quickly trying to undo all the buttons.

His hands moved down to the waist of my jeans, deftly flicking the button open before sliding the zipper down. “Is this what you want?” he asked as his hand touched my lower stomach, his fingers brushing over the elastic band of my panties.

“Yes,” I said, still working to free him from his shirt. “I want this so much.”

The fingers of his free hand rose up to tap my chin, forcing my eyes up until I met his gaze. "I want to hear you say my name again." His other hand lifted from my stomach to slide over the flair of my hip until he was gripping my ass. "Whenever I laid in bed that night after I had you pressed against me in my kitchen when I stroked my cock, I thought about you moaning my name.” The hand that was on my chin pulled away, skimming down my body until he was grabbing the other side of my ass. “So, say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you, Aaron.” So, so much.

His hands moved to the backs of my thighs, then he lifted me up his body, startling me. Jesus Christ, how strong is this guy? I threw my arms around his neck as he started walking us down towards his bedroom. A giggle escaped my lips. “I could have walked, you know.”

We had already entered his room; he tossed me gently on the bed before he turned to close and lock the door. He walked to stand at the side of his bed, his eyes devouring me. “I couldn’t give you a chance to sneak away again, sweet girl.” Aaron pulled off his tie before he finished unbuttoning his shirt, shedding it on the floor.

Fuck. Fuck, he’s hot. I pulled my own shirt over my head, and his body was on top of me before it even left my hands. Aaron's mouth moved down to my collarbones, his hand slipped behind my back to unhook my bra. Once the straps were down my arms, Aaron lifted himself up on his arms to toss it away, his eyes running over my body. "You're so beautiful," he said softly like it wasn't the sweetest compliment I'd ever been paid. He leaned over again, his lips skimming down to my chest before he wrapped his lips around one of my nipples.

“Fuck, Aaron,” I moaned.

He gave my nipple a flick with his tongue before he lifted his head. “Ssh, sweet girl. You have to be quiet. Can you do that?” He kissed his way over to my other breast. “I can’t do this if you won’t be quiet.”

“I can be quiet,” I whispered right before I bit my lip to smother my moan at the feeling of his mouth on me. “Maybe.”

His breath puffed against my skin when he laughed at me. My hands threaded through his hair when he brought his face back up to mine. My mouth opened eagerly for him, my tongue slicking over his while I tried to grind my body against him. Aaron was smiling when he broke the kiss, shifting up onto his knees. “Well, I appreciate you trying to be quiet at any rate,” he teased.

My response died in my throat when his fingers yanked my jeans off my legs, bringing my panties with them. I was totally bare in front of him. His eyes raked down my body in a way that would make me self-conscious with anyone else. How could I ever be self-conscious with a man who looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world?

But when he started to kiss further down my body, I grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him back up to kiss me. “Aaron,” I whispered.

He pressed a soft kiss to my collarbone. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“You don’t…you don’t have to do…that,” I mumbled, feeling my face heat up.

Aaron braced himself on his arms and stared down at me. Enlightenment dawned on his face a second later. He leaned down to kiss me softly. “Do you not want me to?”

I bit my lip, feeling more flustered. “It’s just…I’ve never…and I know that guys don’t really like-.“ My words were cut off when he placed another kiss to my lips, still incredibly soft, but with more force than before.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't," he said quietly. "But I can assure you, I can't think of anything more I'd rather do than lick your pussy until you cum all over my face." He skimmed his lips over my cheek to my ear. "And once you've come down, I want to slide my cock inside you and feel how soft and wet you are." His kisses moved down to my neck, his mouth sucking on my pulse point. "Then I want to fuck you until you're whimpering against my lips to make you cum again.”

I felt my core throb at his words. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. He lifted his gaze when he got back to my breast, flicking my nipple with his tongue. “Is that what you want too, sweet girl?”

I have never wanted anything more, I thought; but I was so far gone that all I could do was nod.

He gave me a soft smile, moving down the bed further to settle between my thighs, pulling them further apart. I felt a kiss pressed to one thigh, then the other. His hot breath washed over the part of me that was already so wet for him. “You’re beautiful here too,” he murmured before he pressed a kiss to my clit. I lifted my hips at the sensation, causing him to chuckle and move his hands to wrap around my thighs, his arms anchoring me in place. A second later I understood why he braced my hips. The second he flattened his tongue and licked the length of my pussy, my hips started moving involuntarily and my fingers tangled in his hair.

I felt a puff of air against me when he laughed again, and it made me smile. I didn’t expect Aaron Hotchner to be fun…or dirty in bed. All thought immediately left my head when he parted me with his tongue, dipping into my entrance before spearing his tongue into me. I felt the vibration when he moaned against me. "You taste so fucking good, y/n," he said, his voice still hushed. Giving my entrance one last lick, he moved up to my clit.

He spent time moving his tongue around me, learning what made me squirm. When he started fluttering his tongue quickly over my clit my hands started tugging on his hair and my thighs tried to snap together.

“Aaron,” I whined, attempting to rock my hips against his mouth.

I think he understood what I needed better than I did. His left hand released my thigh and moved down to my heat, just below his mouth. I felt his fingers brush over me before he pushed on inside me, causing my back to arch off the bed. “Aaron, Aaron, fuck.” He added a second finger, pumping them in a rhythm that complimented the movements of his mouth.

I wasn't prepared for when his lips closed around my clit, sucking lightly, while his fingers started to curl inside of me. “Oh my God," I moaned out, louder than I should have. "Aaron, I'm going to cum." I started pulling on his hair so hard it must have hurt, but he just moaned against me, never slowing his pace. "Aaron, fuck, please. I think…I-I-“

My words broke off as the band inside of me snapped, my pussy clamping down on his fingers and my back arching off of the bed, my mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

Aaron slowed his motions, slowly bringing me through the orgasm and back down to Earth. With one final kiss to my thigh, he rose and moved up my body until his face was hovering over mine. His lips were shiny with my arousal, they also looked a little swollen, but more importantly, they were smirking at me.

I’ll give him that one. Reaching up I cradled his jaw in my hands, bringing his mouth down to mine. I tasted myself on his lips and tongue when he licked into my mouth. Despite the powerful orgasm he had just given me, I was still desperate for him. I broke away from his mouth. “Aaron, I need you.”

He pressed another kiss to my lips before he lifted up and stood at the side of the bed, undoing the buckle of his belt. My eyes were fixed on his movements, watching as he unbuttoned his slacks and slid them down his legs. His cock was a thick pipe outlined in his underwear. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband before he spoke again. "I'll give you everything you need, greedy girl." Aaron pushed his underwear down, his cock springing free before he climbed back on the bed.

He was so much thicker than I expected he would be. I moved my hand down to wrap my fingers around him, pumping his length. He let out a groan and lowered his forehead to mine. “Baby,” he muttered. “I…fuck. I have to get a condom.”

“Aaron,” I whined. “I want to feel you inside me. I’m on birth control. Please?” The thought of anything separating me from this man was abhorrent to me in that moment.

I saw his willpower crumble. “Are you sure?”

So sure. “Please,” I begged lifting my head to kiss him. “I want you to fuck me.”

With a groan that I will remember for the rest of my life, he shifted his hips forwarded, allowing my hands to guide him to my entrance. Aaron kissed me then, slowly and deeply has he started to push inside me. My hand flew away from his cock, both my arms wrapping around his body to pull him closer to me. I felt my nails digging into his back.

Aaron broke our kiss with another soft moan that sounded like my name. “I knew you’d feel like this,” he whispered, pressing deeper inside me. “I knew your pussy would be this fucking tight, this fucking hot, and so fucking soft." He started moving in and out of my pussy, going in a little further each time. “You still have to be quiet, sweet girl.”

“I’m trying,” I moaned, my pussy already starting to flutter around him when he finally pushed all the way inside of me. “Aaron, fucking Christ.” I felt him everywhere, and I somehow still craved more.

He grabbed my thigh, pulling if further up his side, allowing himself to sink deeper inside of me. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” He started a slow pace, pulling almost all the way out of me before slamming back inside me.

My head was thrashing against the pillows, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. “Aaron, I need you to fuck me harder. Please.”

He groaned at my words, placing a sloppy kiss to my mouth before pulling back. He pulled one of my legs up until it was over his shoulder, the other still wrapped around his waist, and then he started to move faster inside of me.

I braced one hand against the headboard as he pounded into me. “Oh my god, Aaron,” my voice was a low whimper as I looked down to see his cock sliding in and out of me. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Baby, I want you to reach down and rub your clit for me while I fuck your tight little pussy.” His pace started to speed up as he spoke. “Can you do that for me?” He groaned when I complied, the stimulation to my clit causing my pussy to flutter around him. “Good girl.”

My fingers began to work frantically. “Don’t stop, Aaron. Don’t stop,” I begged. “I’m so close.”

“I know, sweet girl, I can feel you. Your pussy feels so good squeezing around my cock. You’re going to make me cum.” His thrusts were starting to get choppier, one of his hands braced on the top of the headboard while the other held my leg on his shoulder. “Do you want me to cum inside your pretty pussy, sweet girl?” He groaned loudly when my walls clenched around him. “It feels like you like the idea of that, don’t you baby?”

My fingers continued their pace, my head thrashing, my body trembling. “Yes. Fuck, Aaron. Please cum inside of me. Please.”

Aaron felt it first and acted quickly; his hand moved from my leg to cover my mouth. “That’s it, cum for me, baby.”

I thought my orgasm earlier tonight was powerful. It was nothing compared to how I felt when I came around his cock, only to feel him find his own release a moment after.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, y/n,” he breathed, giving a last few jerks inside of my body, pushing against the fluttering aftershocks of my orgasm. He rolled off me, careful not to drop all of his weight on top of me. To my relief, he quickly gathered me in his arm, pulling me against his body, pressing a soft kiss to my sweaty forehead.

My ear was pressed against his chest, allowing me to hear his heartbeat slowdown from its frantic pace and his breathing even out. I turned my head and pressed a kiss to his chest while his hand continued to stroke my back.

“That…that was amazing,” I said, looking up at him. “If I knew you had that in you, I wouldn’t have run out of the room every time I was alone with you.”

He laughed softly, his eyes sparkling. “Well, at least you’ll know for next time.”

My thoughts sobered at his words. Next time

“Hey,” he said, his hand cupping the side of my face. “No, don’t go away. I just got you.” He kissed my forehead again, then the tip of my nose, then both of my eyelids, before he tilted my face up further so he could press a kiss to my lips. “We’ll figure this out. We have to. I care too much about you to let you go.”

“I care about you too,” I replied, snuggling against his chest, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy.

I was almost asleep when I heard his voice rumble again. “Will you sing Beatles songs to me when I can’t sleep too?” His voice was sleepy and teasing.

I smiled into the darkness, not bothering to open my eyes. “If you want me to, I will.”

Permanent Taglist: @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool

#Aaron Hotchner #Aaron Hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner imagine #Aaron Hotchner x you #Aaron Hotchner x y/n #hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #Aaron Hotchner smut #SSA Aaron Hotchner

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 3

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,600ish

Summary: The beginning of your intern year continues.

Warnings: man parts (lol) and talk about rape

You really tried your best, but you couldn’t get the image of a naked Dr. Steve Rogers on the floor of your living room out of your head. You had decided one night that, to help get the image out of your head, you needed roommates. The house that you had inherited was big enough and the longer you lived there, the lonelier it became. So, you created a ‘roommates wanted’ sign and posted it in the locker room before your shift.

You had several interns come up to you explaining why they would be the perfect roommate for you within the first few hours of your shift. It was annoying and you turned every single one of them down, being very particular about who was going to live with you.

“Why do you put up posters for roommates if you don’t want roommates?” Val asked as you, her, and Scott walked down a corridor.

“I do want roommates,” you defended.

“And why can’t we be those roommates?” Scott wondered

“We’re just together a hundred hours a week, you want to live together too?”

“No,” Natasha responded, walking up to the group. “Ooh, you’re bringing bribes now?” She motioned to the cup of coffee in your hand.

“I need a place to live,” Scott rambled. “My mom irons my scrubs. I have to get out of there.”

“It’s not a bride,” you told Natasha before turning to Scott. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But I can’t put down last, first, and deposit,” Scott argued.

“It’s totally a bride,” Natasha scoffed.

“I can cook,” Val added. “And I can clean.”

“No,” you stated. “I just want two total strangers who I don't have to talk to, or be nice to, and it's not a bribe, it's a mocha latte.”

“Clint, you’re running the code team,” Gamora ordered as you all walked up to her. “Y/N, take the trauma patients, Natasha, deliver the weekend labs to patients, Val, you’re on sutures, and Scott, you’re on scut.”

“Dr. Gamora,” you called. “I was hoping to assist you in the OR today, maybe do a minor procedure? I think I'm ready. Mocha latte?” You held the cup out for her.

“If she gets to cut, I want to cut too,” Natasha added.

“Yeah, me too,” Val joined in.

“I wouldn’t mind another shot,” Scott shrugged.

“And if everybody else gets one, then I do too!” Clint said.

“Stop talking,” Gamora demanded. You all fell silent. “Every intern wants to perform their first surgery, that's not your job. Do you know what your job is? To make your resident happy. Do I look happy? No. Why? Because my interns are whining. You know what will make me look happy? Having the code team staffed, having the trauma patients taken care of, having the weekend labs delivered, and having someone down in the Pit, doing the sutures.” She swiped the mocha latte from your hand. “No one holds a scalpel until I'm so happy I'm Mary freakin' Poppins.”

“Mocha latte my ass,” Natasha grumbled.

“Why’re y’all still standing there? Move!”

Everyone moved, you heading to the elevator with a few files. You paused in your steps when you noticed who was waiting at the elevator. Dr. Steve Rogers. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, before making your way to stand and wait next to him. When he noticed you, he tried to hide the pleasant smile that wanted to take over his face.

“New York has ferry boats,” he stated.

“Yes,” you replied, a bit confused.

“I didn’t remember that. I grew up here then left, now I’ve been living here for six weeks, and I didn’t remember there were ferry boats.”

“Well, Manhattan is an island.”

“Hence the ferry boats.” The elevator arrived and the two of you stepped onto it. “Now I have to like it here. I wasn’t planning on liking it here. I just moved here from the country. I’m supposed to not like big cities like Manhattan. But I have a thing for ferry boats.”

The elevators doors closed, leaving them alone in the elevator. He was leaning against the wall behind you as you stood in the middle, holding the files to your body. You hoped that he couldn’t hear your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m not going out with you,” you blurted. You don’t know if you were trying to tell him that or if you were trying to convince yourself that you weren’t interested.

“Did I ask you to go out with me?” He questioned. He paused before asking the next, “Do you want to go out with me?”

“I'm not dating you. And I'm definitely not sleeping with you again. You're my boss.”

“I'm your boss's boss.”

“You're my teacher. And my teacher's teacher. And you're my teacher.”

“I'm your sister, I'm your daughter,” he joked.

“You're sexually harassing me.”

“I'm riding an elevator.” He stepped towards you, you could practically feel him breathing down your neck. You spun around to face him.

“Look, I'm drawing a line. The line is drawn. There's a big line.”

“So, this line. Is it imaginary, or do I need to get you a marker?”

You stared at him for a second, basking in all his attractiveness. It didn’t take you very long to go ‘screw it’ and drop the files you were holding and kiss him. Steve was a tad surprised but caught on quickly. When the elevator dinged, you quickly crouched down to pick up the files and rushed out of the elevator. Steve stood there, looking amused.

“We’ll talk later?” He called after you. You ignored him and he chuckled to himself. “Definitely, later.”

~~~

In between taking care of patients, you had interns begging you to let them be your roommate. You were slowly regretting the idea of roommates the longer the day went on. Thankfully, your pager rang and requested you down in the ER.

“You the surgeon?” A nurse asked as you entered the room.

“Yes,” you replied.

“We’ve got a rape victim. 21-year-old female found down at the park, status: post-trauma, she came in with a GCS of 6, BP 80 over 60, head trauma, unequal breath sounds, right pupil is dilated, and she's ready for x-ray. You ready to roll?” You were listening but also focused on the girl’s shoes. They were the same ones you had worn to work. “Hey!”

“Uh, sorry,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Call it in to clear CT, let them know I'm coming, load up the portable monitor, call respiratory for a ventilator, I'll get x-rays while I'm down there.”

You quickly learned that the girls name was Mallory and, just by you reading the scans alone, she would be needing surgery. Dr. Banner and Dr. Rogers were both called in while you were allowed to watch and hopefully assist.

“She’s going to spend a hell of a lot of time in recovery and rehab,” Dr. Rogers stated.

“If she survives,” Dr. Banner added.

“What is she, like, 5'2", a hundred pounds, she's still breathing after what this guy did to her? If they catch the guy, they should castrate him.”

“See how shredded her hands are? She tried to fight back.”

“Tried to?” Dr. Stark repeated, walking into the room. “Rape kit came back negative. She kicked his ass.”

“So, we have a warrior amount us, huh?” Rogers questioned.

“Hell yeah we do! I just came in to tell you about the rape kit and to see if you needed me anytime soon. Can’t have the poor girl be reminded of the incident with so many scars.”

“Mallory,” you interrupted. “Her—her name is Mallory.”

“Mallory,” Rogers and Stark repeated.

“I think I may have found the cause of our rupture,” Banner said, pulling out a piece of flesh. “What is this?” He held it up. “Does anyone know what this is?”

“Oh my gosh,” you gasped, with Dr. Stark snickering from the sidelines.

“What? Spit it out, L/N.”

“She bit it off.”

“Bit off what?”

“That’s his…” You swallowed. “His penis.” Shocked groans filled the OR. “She bit off his penis.”

“Told you she kicked his ass!” Stark exclaimed as Banner couldn’t toss the piece of flesh into the try fast enough.

~~~

After the surgery, the penis was placed in a small cooler. You were tasked to bring it to Fury for the police. You knocked at the door of his office, where an older woman is in there.

“Hi, is the chief in?” You asked.

“He’s on his way,” she responded. “Is that it?”

“Can I see it?” You looked down at the box and then up again. “No, forget I asked.”

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Fury greeted as he entered, going to his desk.

“You too, sir,” you responded with a nod. “Listen, so they said to bring this to you,” you lifted up the cooler. “So…?”

“Yes, for the police,” Fury responded.

“Right.”

“When did the police say they'll come?” Fury asked his assistant.

“You know how slow they are,” she answered. “So, she’d better take it with her.”

“What?” You questioned.

“You have to take it with you.”

“Chain of custody rules,” Fury explained. “All medical matter in a rape must stay with the person who collected it, until it's placed in police custody.”

“You collected the specimen, so you have custody.”

“Custody of a penis…” You said.

“Yes,” Fury answered. “Until the cops come for it.”

“Okay. Well, what am I supposed to do with the penis?”

Fury simply shrugged before excusing you. You huffed, leaving the office with the cooler. You wandered the halls until you saw Clint working at a desk. You walked over, setting the cooler down and causing Clint to look up at you.

“What’s that?” He pointed to the cooler as he asked.

“Don’t ask, you don’t want to know,” you responded.

“I do want to know. Really.”

“You really want to know?” Clint nodded. “It’s a severed penis.”

“Okay… I didn’t really want to know.”

“Told you.”

“I didn’t know why I have to be the one who gets hugged,” Natasha complained to Peter as they walked up.

“Because, I don’t do that,” Peter replied. “Besides, you're the ovarian sister here.”

“Did you just call me an ovarian sis— an ovarian— since when has the possession of ovaries become an insult?”

“Y/N’s carrying a penis around in a jar,” Clint interrupted.

“Oh, from the rape surgery?” Natasha looked around.

“Yeah,” you answered. “And it’s not a jar, it’s a cooler.”

“Talk about taking a bite out of crime.” Natasha chuckled as she left.

You were suddenly lost in your head, unable to stop thinking about Mallory’s shoes. They were the same as yours. You had worn them to work today, which was weird. You never really wear them.

“You okay?” Clint asked.

“Yeah… it’s just… Mallory's shoes. The rape victim, Mallory, her shoes. I have the same ones. In my locker. And I normally never wear them, because they're not comfortable, but today I did, and she was wearing the same shoes, and it's just… stupid, and I'm tired, and forget it.”

“You know what you need?” Clint stared at you.

“No. It’s stick and twisted. We said last time was the last time.” Clint looked away. “You’ve been doing it without me?”

“Nancy Reagan lied. You can't just say no. Come on.”

“Do you know what would happen if anyone knew?”

“I'm doing it. You can come with me… or you can stay here, and be miserable.”

“Fine,” you tried to hold back a smile as you followed Clint.

He led you to the nursery, where you two stood at the window and watched the babies. You laughed as Clint did some baby talk.

“You are such a woman,” you laughed.

Clint’s pager beeped before he could retorted. “It’s a code,” he sighed. “I gotta go.”

He left, leaving you to sigh as you watched the babies.

“You are really cute,” you whispered as you looked at them.

As you watched them, you noticed at one of the babies was struggling. His face was slowly turning blue. You quickly entered the nursery, setting the cooler to the side before checking the babies chart. Then you sided your stethoscope to check on the babies heart.

“What are you doing in here?” A Peds Intern asked, walking into the room.

“There were no tests ordered,” you answered. “And the baby has a murmur.”

“I know.”

“He turned blue.”

“You're surgery, you're not authorized to be in here. Do you know how much trouble you can get into for this?”

“Are you going to do any tests?”

“It's a benign systolic ejection murmur. It goes away with age.”

“So you're not going to do any tests.”

“He's not your patient, he's not even on your service.”

“Are you sure it’s benign?”

“I'm a doctor too, you know. You should get out of here.”

Deciding you’d rather not get in trouble, you grabbed the cooler and left. You were stopped along your wandering by more interns who wanted to room with you. After having listened to three of them, you walked away, still unimpressed, and went to Mallory’s room. You were looking at her through the window when Dr. Rogers came up.

“Y/N,” he greeted. “I've called every hospital in the county. Sooner or later, the guy that did this is going to seek medical attention, and when he does, that penis you're carrying around is going to nail him.”

“Where is her family?” You asked.

“Doesn’t have any.”

“No siblings?”

“No. Both parents are dead. She just moved to New York three weeks ago. Welcome to the city.” When you didn’t give a response he turned to look at you. You were lost in your thoughts. “Y/N, you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just… I just have to do something. I have to go.”

“Right. I’m going to sit with her.”

You nodded before rushing away to find Dr. Banner.

“Dr. Banner?” You called when you saw him.

“Mmm?” He hummed, turning to face you.

“There's a baby up in peds, I saw him have a tet spell, and I think I hear a murmur.”

“Mmm. Did peds call us for a consult?”

“Actually, no. They’re not doing anything about it—“

“So you want me to what?”

“If you could just go up and look at him—“

“Mm-hmm, not without a Peds consult.”

“Yeah, but—“

“I’m a busy man, L/N, and there are rules. Look, it’s not like I’m the Chief or something.”

Then he stocked off, leaving you frustrated.

“Stupid rules.”

~~~

Eventually, you found a spot in the lobby to sit. Just waiting for the cops to show up.

“What’re you doing down here?” Natasha asked when she came across you.

“Just sitting here with my penis,” you responded. “What about you?”

“Hiding from Peter.” She sat beside you.

“I kissed Steve.”

“You kissed Steve.”

“In the elevator.”

“Oh, you kissed him in the elevator.”

“I was having a bad day. I am having a bad day.”

“Oh, so this is what you do on your bad days. Make out with Captain McDreamy.” You both stood up.

“Well, that, and you know, carrying around a penis just makes everything seem so shiny and happy.”

“Mmm. Clint said Mallory was wearing your shoes.”

“Yeah. It’s weird, right?”

“I think it’s weird that you care.”

“I think it’s weird.”

From outside, a car swerves. You and Natasha could hear it from inside, causing you to rush out. A man staggered out of the car, clothes soaked in blood, mainly around his crotch. He collapses. Other doctors and nurses followed you out and immediately began checking on him. You immediately knew that the guy was the owner of the penis you had been carrying around all day. The other doctors brought him into a trauma room. You followed, quickly calling security.

“So, what’ve we got?” Gamora asked as she entered.

“Take a look,” you responded.

“What?” She leaned closer. “Alright, let’s get him to OR 1. Y/N, you call the Chief and let him know we got the rapist.”

~~~

You and Natasha were in the OR with Gamora and Stark. They were working on the rapist.

“I saw Mallory,” you said, eyes on the operating table. “You can’t believe the beating that she took. And then to see this…”

“It's like that old saying, you should see the other guy,” Natasha said.

“Okay, kiddos, why are we not attempting to reattach the severed penis?” Dr. Stark asked.

“Teeth don’t slice, they tear. You can only reattach with a clean cut. If she wanted to slice him off with a knife…”

“Besides,” you continued for Natasha, “the digestive juices didn't leave much of the flesh to work with.”

“Right,” Gamora agreed, “so what do we do?”

“Sew him up minus a large part of the family jewels,” Natasha answered.

“And his outlook?”

“He'll be urinating out of a bag for a very, very long time,” Natasha added.

“Oh, too bad.”

“Shame.”

“I can’t imagine not having sex,” Stark commented. “I think that I would just end my life if I couldn’t do a round every day.” Everyone looked at him. “What? It shouldn’t be that surprising.”

“No wonder, Dr. Potts keeps turning you down,” Gamora said.

“I’ll get her one day. Just you wait. I’m going to marry that woman if it’s the last thing I do.”

~~~

You met with the police after the surgery where they told you that they couldn’t send their crime scene guy down for hours. Annoyed, you searched for your intern friends. You found them in the empty corridor, sitting on the beds.

“So, the police say that they can’t send down the crack crime scene guy for hours,” you told them as you entered, sitting down beside Natasha. “So I have to spend the night with a penis. Peter, don’t say it.”

“Ahh, it was too easy anyway,” Peter responded.

“Who here feels like they have no idea what they’re doing?” Scott asked. Everyone of you, but Peter, raised a hand.

“I mean, are we supposed to be learning something?” Clint wondered. “Because I don’t feel like I’m learning anything.”

“Except how not to sleep,” Val added.

“It’s like there’s this wall,” Natasha said, “and the attending and the residents are over there, being surgeons, and we’re over here, being—“

“Suturing, code running, lab delivering penis-minders,” you grumbled.

“I hate being an intern,” Peter stated.

Gamora walked into the hallway, looking expectant. All of you interns quickly got up and took your leave. All the others had things to do, so you found yourself in front of the babies again. As you looked at the baby you’re so worried about, you noticed the parents. Taking a deep breath, you decided to go up to them.

“Hi,” you greeted with a soft smile.

“Hi,” the mother greeted back.

“Is he yours?” You nodded to the baby.

“Yeah,” the mother smiled.

“He’s adorable… Have you noticed anything that would concern you?”

“No,” the father responded. “Have you?”

“Earlier today I noticed him turning blue.”

“Blue?” The mother repeated.

“Yes. I checked him and I heard a murmur.”

“We were told that the murmur was benign,” the father stated.

“I don’t think it is. I think—“

“You are so out of line,” the Peds Intern interrupted.

“She says the murmur might not be benign,” the father said.

“I think we should do an echo, to check,” you suggested.

“This is your career,” the intern said, going to get her resident.

“There’s really no reason to get alarmed,” you told the parents.

“What’s the problem?” The resident asked, coming back with the intern.

“If our baby is sick, we want him treated,” the mother ordered. “Now.”

“Who said your baby was sick?”

“Her,” the Peds Intern answered, pointing to you. “The surgical intern who has no business on our service.”

“Who authorized you being here?”

“I was just,” you began, “actually—“

“I did,” Dr. Banner came up from behind you. “Could you excuse us for a second?” Dr. Banner took the resident to the side, but not far enough for you to not hear. “Are you messing with my intern, Dr. Keener?”

“No, sir,” the resident responded.

Dr. Banner turned back to you and the other intern. “Give me the chart.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” the intern said, giving up the chart, “I checked.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You can guarantee that he is fine, you are 100% sure.”

The intern looked hesitant.

“How sure are you?” The resident questioned.

“I don’t know,” the intern responded. “75%.”

“Not good enough,” Banner said. “He’s my patient now. That okay with you, Dr. K?”

“Absolutely,” the resident responded.

“He can take our patient?” The intern asked.

“He’s an attending.”

“Which means I can do whatever I want,” Banner replied before heading to the parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, I’m Dr. Banner, head of cardio. We’re going to run some tests and give you an answer within the hour. Excuse me.” He turned to you. “L/N.” He motioned for you to follow, which you quickly did. “I want an EKG, a chest x-ray, and an ECHO. I don’t have all day.”

“You’re a busy man.”

“I’m a busy man.”

You quickly ordered the tests then wandered the hospital more, since you weren’t allowed to do anything while you were watching the penis. After a little while, you found Dr. Banner again.

“Well?” You asked as you walked up to him.

“It’s a birth defect,” Dr. Banner replied. “Tetrology affirmed lower pulmonary artresia. You were right. I'm booking the OR for tomorrow.”

“Thank you for backing me up on this.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait, whoa. You were right. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again...going to the parents behind a doctor's back? Trying to steal a patient from another service? I will make your residency year hell on earth.”

He walked off and you smiled slightly to yourself. You made your way back to the babies, where you watched, from the other side of the window, Banner talk to the parents.

“His heart surgery is scheduled for the morning,” the Peds Intern told you. “I really did think I was right, you know.”

“I know. We almost never are. We're interns,” you responded. “We're not supposed to be right. And when we are, it's completely shocking.”

“Are you— I mean, being an intern, do you feel…”

“Terrified. 100% of the time.”

“Good, it’s not just me.”

“No.”

You decided, after finishing up with the babies, to go check on Mallory. When you arrived, you realized that Steve was still in there.

“How is she?” You asked, standing in the doorway.

“No change,” Steve answered with a sigh.

“Have you been here all night?”

“Mm-hmm. Yup… If I was in a comma, I’d want someone to be here. I know I would have people there. Having no one? Can’t imagine that.”

“I can.”

“Don’t you have any family?”

“I do. Just… I don’t think they’d come.”

Steve watched you carefully before speaking again. “So… we’re kissing but we’re not dating?”

“I knew that was going to come up.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the kissing. I’m all for the kissing. More kissing, I say.”

“I have no idea what that was about.”

“Is it going to happen again? Because if it is, I need to bring breath mints. Put a condom in my wallet.”

“Shut up now.” Steve laughed. “There was this baby up in the nursery. He's brand new. No one's neglected him or damaged him yet. How do we get from there to here? She's wearing my shoes and someone's beat the crap out of her, and she's got nobody.”

Suddenly, Mallory’s machine’s began beeping. You quickly hit an alarm on the wall.

“Her ICP’s double, get an OR!” Steve yelled. “Put her in for a craniotomy!”

~~~

You waited outside the OR, still watching over the stupid penis, while Steve operated on Mallory. You were nervous for her and felt bad that no one was there for her. Once the surgery was over, Steve exited the OR, walking past you. When he noticed you were there, he turned back.

“Hey,” he greeted. “I, uh, I had to leave her skull flap off, till the pressure in her brain goes down.”

“She’s not going to make it, is she?” You asked.

“She’s going to be fine.”

“If she ever wakes up.”

Steve nodded. “If she ever wakes up.” You nodded, biting your lip as you looked away. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Your pager went off. You looked down to see it was the Chief. “I’ve gotta go. That’s the Chief. Maybe I can finally get rid of this thing.” You lifted the cooler slightly.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled. “Good luck.”

~~~

“So here is where you put the signature, down here, the initials,” Fury’s assistant pointed out on a paper.

“Mmm,” you hummed with a nod, taking the paper and pen from her. “Okay.”

“It just says that the penis was never out of your sight.”

“Of course.” You sighed and handed over the paper. “There you go. One penis.” You glanced at the clock and realized that it was time for the baby’s surgery. “Am I all done here? I kinda want to go watch a surgery.”

“Sure.”

You tried to rush, but not rush, to the OR Dr. Banner was working in. When you arrived, you found a spot in the back.

“We'll be using a medium approach for a trans-ventricular repair with a right ventriculostomy,” Banner explained. “Let’s open him up. L/N!” He looked around for you.

“Yes, sir?” You replied.

“Go scrub in. When we've finished cracking the baby's chest, I'll let you hold the clamp.”

“Seriously?” You tried to contain your excitement.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

You rushed to scrubbed in. And, let’s just say, holding onto that clamp was a rush and just what you needed to help brighten your shift. After that, you went to watch the babies, Val, Clint, and Scott all joining you.

You let out a sigh. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “You guys can move into the house.”

“Yes! Yes!” The guys shouted.

“I can’t believe you caved!” Val laughed.

“I can’t believe it either,” you mumbled, trying to hide the smile.

~~~

You changed out of your scrubs and stared at the shoes in your locker. You couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it was that you had decided to wear those shoes today. With determination, you shut the locker on your shoes and went to the elevator. Steve was there waiting.

“So… it’s intense…” he started. “This thing I have for, ah, ferry boats… I mean.”

You smiled at him. “I’m so taking the stairs this time.” You walked off.

“No self-control,” he called after you. “It’s sad. Really.” He chuckled to himself as you continued to walk away. “Wow… this is so—“

“Weird. It’s weird,” Dr. Stark came up, ready to go too. “Like I said before, that look is bad news. And you—“

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut it Tony?”

“Fine.” Tony held his hands up. “But, seriously, don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #gamora x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #peter quill x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #scott lang x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #valkyrie x reader

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real-fanta-sea · 4 years ago

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Prompt for the kiss no. 71

Prompt: "Not to be cringe or anything, but I really like the idea of the kiss 71 (height difference kisses where one person has to bend down, and the other is on their tippy-toes)...where Trevor is his true height. i.e. Ogg's height and Michael has to stand on his tiptoes to snog him."

I'm sorry, anon, but I saved the post as a draft and it just vanished into thin connection. So, I have to answer this way.

This work is more of a spur of the moment thing, but I kinda like the way it turned out, being it just my emotions spilt onto paper. If you'd like, you can read it on AO3 here, or under read more. I hope you'll like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

tw: kissing, child abuse memories

It's been three weeks already.

An unhealthy greenish glow of flickering light tubes and the icy breath of an industrial refrigerator made him shiver as Michael, gliding on the orbit touching stars in his mind, put yet another box of ready-made microwave hamburgers into his shopping cart. If he were not a regular in this particular shop, he would have got lost. It resembled an anthill with seemingly infinite shelves and aisles, bursting with the merchandise, even though the depressed lights covered everything in the same shade of decay green. The same life outlook was shared with most of the shadows roaming around whose name tags qualified them as proud employees of Flormart.

It's been three weeks, and he still stuck around, hanging on his every word.

Michael pushed his cart further from frozen goods, and the pictures swirling and smearing all around transitioned from photoshopped vegetables to flashy fireworks of chips and other guilty pleasures he planned on indulging in later on. Some people would find the height of the shelves menacing, but to Michael, it was just a memory that pulled him from the orbit back to earth and placed him in the middle of a football pitch. The smell of sweat building up underneath his helmet. The crunch of the crisp lawn under his feet. The spotlight following him whenever he scored. Cheering faceless crowds in time with busty faceless girls' pompoms. But most of all, he felt happy again - needed, cherished, innocent, and with a bright future awaiting his embrace. But then, just as he crossed from the snacks aisle to the alcohol quarter, the football stadium lights flickered and turned bright red. All the faceless girls turned around, their mouths gaping as if someone dislocated their jaws, and the cheering turned into a hellish cry of pain. Where their eyes were supposed to be, he saw a flair, screwing itself deeper into their skull, and a stream of scarlet goo drip down on their immaculate white dresses.

It's been three weeks, and somehow, his puppy-like behaviour didn't irk him yet. Quite the opposite if he were honest with himself - he felt strangely peaceful in his company.

Michael gulped in a desperate attempt to wash down the horror that invited itself under cover of a happy memory. Shaking his head only did so much and dispersed the spectators and cheerleaders alike, in the same way shaking a snowy paperweight would. Michael's chest constricted as he felt unable to breathe in properly, people splatting and exploding upon impact all around him in his mind. Suddenly, he felt a pull under both of his shoulders and found himself flying towards the pitch-black sky, where instead of one moon, two shone down on him. As he flew closer, they shrunk into two amber irises - and Michael immediately knew who pulled him out of the memory. As he crashed into a mass of pink candy cotton clouds, his vision blurred just to clear up when he felt a solid surface under his feet and someones hot hands in his. Somehow, he found himself looking at the tips of abused old pair of sneakers he was wearing, the same pair Michael knew he wore that faithful day at the airstrip. A moment later, a couple of dark blue, equally run-down ones stepped into his field of vision. He slowly let his sight slide up on crumpled jeans, the hem of a military jacket, a pair of dog tags hanging around a slender neck, a sharp jaw, a pair of full dark lips and finally, to the pair of amber eyes, eyes that radiated worry, care and, at the same time, something he could only read as love and utmost devotion.

It's been three weeks since the incident, and anytime he woke up from a nightmare that played in his mind over and over again, he was there to soothe him; he was there waiting for Michael's tears to dampen his naked shoulder. He didn't bitch about it and didn't tell a soul in the morning.

Michael let out a shaky breath. Stopping his feet from casually continuing in their stroll proved harder than he thought, and he leaned on the shopping cart handle, running fingers through his hair. He couldn't decide what mortified him more - the creativity his brain proved to possess when playing out the horrible things he has witnessed in just a few years of his fresh adulthood, or the way it put his acquaintance on some fucking pedestal and presented him as the alpha and omega of his thoughts and desires.

"Hey Michael, are you ok?"

Speaking of the devil... "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just.." Michael breathed in again and turned towards the source of the voice, trying to display a small smile by twitching his tired lips "I need a smoke, that's all."

It's been three weeks, and he got that tingling feeling in his guts already. He could barely tolerate touch or prolonged eye contact without getting goosebumps and that ticklish feeling solidifying and slicing right into his groin. Michael wanted to believe it was just his weird head showing gratitude for saving his ass, but anytime he found himself in the company of that amber-eyed twink, the longing grew worse.

"Hey, how about a bottle of something to wash the cig down?" said the guy and his oversized jeans jacket hanging from his shoulders cringed into weird shapes as he took one of his hands out of his pocket and pointed his thumb towards the shelves. He looked so adorably dishevelled in all jeans, and with his silky hair framing his hopeful face, Michael couldn't have said no to anything he would suggest. Instead of mustering the strength to say no, Michael threw another smile towards his companion and turned his back to him to choose the dream crusher he wanted to numb them with before they went to bed.

To someone who grew up in a functional family, all the labels and bottle shapes would seem the same. To Michael, however, to choose the right brand and size meant the same as selecting the bananas or avocados of the proper ripeness would for them. It was a work of art; he learned so much in the ten years of living with his stepfather. While scrutinizing the shelves, index finger and thumb scrubbing on the sides of his chin absent-mindedly, he remembered how they would come to the similar shop together, he and his mother's second husband, and how he slipped behind the shelves. At the same time, Frank chatted with the clerk, and he stuffed his lunch box with a large flat bottle of Chief's Heritage Fire Water whiskey. He had to carefully close it to avoid disturbing the aluminium foil that served as a guard from the primitive electronic protection device they had to pass through on their way out. Michael would then tuck his stepfather's sleeve, babble some cute nonsense to get candy from the unsuspicious clerk, and after they paid for the two packs of cigarettes and a beer, they would leave. Frank would let him chug on whiskey then, and if he were in an exceptionally good mood, he would let him sleep through the night without beating the shit out of him.

Finally, spotting the whiskey he knew so well on one of the top shelves, Michael attempted to grasp it but only managed to graze his fingertips against the bottom of one of the bottles that rocked gently upon touch but otherwise didn't move an inch. "Fuck", he uttered under his breath, cracked his neck and stretched onto the tips of his toes, steadying himself by holding onto one of the lower shelves. But, again, he could only touch the bottle but not get a good hold of it. He even contemplated climbing the shelves to get it, as if the shame of his disappointing height haven't already painted his cheeks bright red and didn't make him want to leave the shop right away. Just as he braced himself for the climb, eyes fixed on that damn bottle, a gentle touch of someone's hand squeezing his shoulder made him turn around. It was Trevor's hand, and even though Michael still had to look up to meet his eyes, the small sympathetic smile put him in ease in a blink of an eye.

"Chief's, huh? Good choice, Mike!" the praise in his voice made Michael shiver, and he desperately tried to ignore the warmth he was receiving through the palm still steady on his shoulder and which upset his heart into beating twice as fast as ever before. "My old man used to drink this. It tastes like cat piss but knocks you out good for the buck." Trevor's grin felt like a warm touch sunrise after countless years of freezing darkness. Michael couldn't help but soak in the warmth, allowing himself to lose himself in the feeling completely. "Let me get it for you, eh?" he heard Trevor say from somewhere near, and before he could object, most of the light was obstructed by a jeans-clad chest.

It was then when Michael closed his eyes and tried to get hold of the situation. Trevor, the guy he only knew for three weeks, pushing Michael's back onto the shelves as he leaned for the bottle but also pushing his chest almost to Michael's. If it weren't for a couple of inches of hot air and fabric between them, their bodies would brush against each other. Michael could only gulp when he opened his eyes again, and his mind provided him with the maddening picture of Trevor's naked lean chest, peppered with dark brown hair as if puberty marked its way down towards his groin with it. Michael's head was spinning when he looked up to see Trevor still busy fetching the bottle. Michael's racing imagination saw him grabbing the guy's head, crashing lips with his and dissolving into what he thought would be the best kiss he would ever receive. Michael gulped again. He had to have him.

He was anxious about the way it was too easy to raise both his hands and grab fists full of other man's jacket as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Michael didn't fight it when he felt his muscles pull on the fabric and only turned his gaze up to where he expected Trevor's eyes to look once he would feel the movement of his clothes. Michael didn't have to wait for it at all, actually; the puzzled expression was already waiting for him to drink it up. However, he couldn't maintain the contact for too long as his eyes focused on something completely different; the dark lips, deliciously parted in the unspoken question. The distance between his own and them unnerved him, and in the sparking silence, Michael again propped himself onto the tips of his toes, pressed harder on the fabric to steady himself and, closing eyes, pressed his lips to Trevor's.

For a delicious moment, the world fell apart as if some invisible force made the dimensions crash down. The trembling soft firmness against his lips sent shivers down his spine with each cautious move. Whenever Michael recalled the moment years later, he could always sense the faint smell of cigarettes, petrol and sun mixing between their bodies and the way the ground shook and cried under his feet when he felt Trevor's palms slide down his sides and pull him closer, effectively sweeping him off his feet.

Trevor seemed to be relishing at the moment as much as Michael was, but when he felt solid ground under his feet again, and the pair of arms letting go of him, Michael reluctantly broke the kiss with a coquettish wet pop and tried to catch his lost breath. Then, leaning against the shelves again, he only dared to peek up when his cheeks stopped burning from what felt like a mixture of acid and a marathon run. Trevor's face might as well have been a mirror, for he looked down on Michael with eyes wide, face red and lips wet and trembling as if he didn't get a grasp of reality yet. Michael couldn't help but let the anxiety scream right to his face in the voice of his stepfather - and there were thousands of things he might have ruined then and there, just because he didn't fight his stupid queer side, because he let himself kiss another man, because by the twisted chain of mistakes he fell from what could have been a good life to longing after a rabid smuggler in the middle of a liquor aisle.

Just as he was about to duck under Trevor's arm and run away from the voice and feelings of shame it brought about, he was stopped by a gentle, almost shy touch of a hot palm on his cheek. The slender fingers brushed against his face in such a delicate way Michael's heart skipped a beat, and closing his eyes, he leaned into the touch, seeking the soothing silence it brought with the warmth. The hand fit his cheek like a glove, Michael mused as he relaxed into slow movements of fingertips on his temples. Right there, at that moment, everything felt so right, so natural. Why has he deprived himself of the delicious heat for three weeks when somewhere deep inside, where the beating of his heart always gave away the truth, he knew he needed it from the start - well, Michael didn't know. Instead, he slid his arms around Trevor's waist and buried his face into his chest.

"Michael?"

The vibrating echo of his name, spoken in such a husky yet caring way, made Michael squeeze his arms around Trevor even tighter. He sought the last bits and pieces of it before he dared to speak up himself, afraid of spoiling the delicious contentment of the moment.

"Let's get out of here."

A gentle kiss on top of his head and long arms lacing his shoulders later, Michael found himself too far from Trevor for comfort. But even with the newly gained distance between them, a quick glance sideways has provided him with a sight of a beaming smile and a fire deep inside Trevor's eyes that made his own lips twitch into a happy upwards bow. As they rolled into the checkout, Michael has noticed the world has changed as well. The depressing shade of green has somehow transitioned into a welcoming warm white; the shadows that they passed by on their way in suddenly bloomed into happy faces. The various packings of goods exploded in all the colours of the rainbow. As Michael and Trevor emerged into the darkness of the parking lot, ready to relive their revelation in thousands of ways, Michael has felt at peace with himself for the first time in forever. The days of the inner night were over.

#michael de santa #trevor philips #trikey #kissing prompts #gta v fic #real_fanta_sea.txt

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bangtae-sohotddaeng · 4 years ago

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we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 4

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 4.6 k

note: hey, y'all. i know i've been awol and i'm really sorry about it, but, well - first i went back to uni for a while and got busy with my classes and my boyfriend. but this lasted for, like, barely three weeks, and then i came back home and got covid. yep, i finally got unlucky. my parents got it, too, after me, and the three of us had been home quarantined and getting treated for the past month or so. we're in better health now, though, so i'm getting back into writing. here's hoping i pick up speed super quick! 💜

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Your first week of heading this project with all its roadblocks and exhaustion, as it turned out, had merely been a taste of what was to come.

Your Wednesday at work began on a positive note, though.

Towards the middle of the day, your phone rang, making both you and Jungkook jump.

Cursing, you pursed your lips at Jungkook apologetically, and fished the device out. He nodded at you with a chuckle.

Looking at your phone screen, you realised this was a call you'd been waiting for.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling to inform you that we’re done.”

Your eyebrows immediately hiked up your forehead. “Wow, really? That’s great news!”

“Yeah, the cleaners will be in tomorrow morning. You can move in by tomorrow evening.”

You actually grinned. “That’s such fantastic news! Thank you so much, Mister Lin. I’ll initiate your payment later, today.”

“Anytime, ma’am. Thank you.”

You disconnected the call with a happy sigh. Jungkook squinted at you. “That sounded like a fun conversation.”

You nodded, smiling. “Our team is moving into an apartment, tomorrow.”

“Wow! You’ve been in the hotel for what, ten days now? Must feel nice!” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You nodded with a sigh, shutting your eyes in relief. “Oh, yes. We’d made reservations at the hotel for fifteen days. We had to move into the apartments within this week. This feels so amazing. I’ll finally be able to prepare my own food.”

Jungkook giggled at that, scrunching his nose up. “Where’s the apartment? Hope it isn't too far.”

“Oh, no, it’s a few blocks away from here. Which is why we had to book a hotel in the first place. We needed two four-bedroom apartments on the same floor, in this specific radius, in three days.” You paused to laugh when Jungkook’s jaw dropped with a gasp. “It was a very hard find. But our agent was sharp, he did a great job.” You clapped your hands together. “I cannot wait to check out of the damn hotel.”

Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Hotels are hard. It could be a seven star luxurious penthouse, but you’d still wanna run away from it after a while.”

He seemed to be speaking from his personal experience, but running away from a seven star luxurious penthouse? You couldn’t relate. You hated your hotel because the curtains weren’t dark enough and the mattress was stiff and you couldn’t afford getting any of them changed. You also hated having to order Chinese every single day, but you also knew you’d be emptying your bank account if you got anything else.

None of this would trouble someone living in a seven star’s penthouse. But you didn’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable by stating any of this when he was just trying to be a bit compassionate and empathetic.

“Food doesn’t bother me that much, though,” Jungkook continued after a thoughtful pause. “We’re usually either on diets or order takeout. I personally hate the mattresses.”

“Oh yes,” you sighed deeply, the kink in your upper back in absolute agreement. “I’m not really a fan of sleeping anywhere other than my mattress back at home, but hotel beds are the worst of it.”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “I completely understand. You remember that story I told you about lugging my beddings over to our dorm when we first moved into one?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Oh, yes. The rest of the boys were getting new mattresses, and you were busy dragging your mattress from your parents’ house. It may sound hilarious, but it’s actually very relatable.”

Jungkook looked a bit bashful as he nodded. “You know, when we first started preparing for our first tour, I had a half a mind to take it with me.”

You barked out a loud laugh at that, the mental image of Jungkook dragging a seven by four piece of bedding around and stuffing it into trailers. He laughed, too.

“Yeah, it was funny and really stupid. Half the time we didn’t even get to sleep in the bed we had taken with us, but whenever we did, I was nodding off the second my head hit the pillow.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled as he went down the memory lane. “That one was nothing in comparison to the tours we go on now, but it was our first ever experience so it was still pretty difficult adjusting, Tour schedule is a different level of hectic, you know? You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep. Just rehearsals and fittings and sound checks. I would fall asleep in makeup chairs,” he confessed with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly, “and when noona would wake me up, I would recall how I wanted to bring my mattress here. Such naivete.”

You smiled, nodding along. You hadn’t yet gotten to the tour discussion yet, as it was planned out for the third month of your blueprint, so all of this was brand new to you. But, at this moment you didn’t want to bring up plans and blueprints. Jungkook was compassionately being candid with you. You were becoming friends, beyond your professional boundaries.

Sighing, you decided to impart something personal, too. “When I moved to the States and got into this company, I rented the apartment with an old friend who was already living there. And it wasn’t my first time living in a house away from my parents. I’d been a university student, lived in dorms then rented apartments, both solo and shared.” Jungkook looked at you pensively, nodding with a little furrow in his eyebrows. “But when I got to this apartment, got all this brilliant furniture set up, all new and fresh, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my home.” Jungkook’s eyes softened, lips pressing down into an understanding smile. “Not the dorm, not the studio I’d been renting—I missed my childhood bed.” You exhaled, recalling all your sleepless nights. “There's this connection you build with the place you call home. I’m sure you must have started to feel this way about your dorms as time went on.”

Jungkook softly smiled, nodding as he looked into space. “Very correct. Tour life made me realise this exact fact.”

You both sat in a few minutes’ quiet, basking in the nostalgic atmosphere you’d built around you.

Then Jungkook grinned at you. “Now you’ll get to experience real Seoul life.”

You laughed. “Oh, yes. And I honestly can’t wait for it. The local markets, the grocery stores, everything. Everything here is very unlike home.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it!” Jungkook exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

You went back to work soon after, with Jungkook tossing in questions about your move and suggestions about what all you should do in the city, every now and then.

It was a good, productive, joyous day. You were hardly even tired when you got back to your hotel to spend your last night on that stiff ass mattress.

Thursday had started off pretty much the same, except for you guys taking a slightly early departure to spare some extra time to set your new place up after your belongings were moved.

By late night, you were all settled in two, pleasant, well-furnished, well ventilated four-bedroom apartments, next to each other. Your housemates consisted of Sana and Simon. Needless to say, you weren’t a fan. But you needed a room to build the office in and you preferred it to be under the same roof as your bedroom because you tended to work odd hours when you couldn’t sleep. Simon and Sana volunteered to share the apartment with the office and you, so you didn't exactly have room for complaint.

From getting the apartment cleaned one last time to accept you all, to ensuring none of you had left anything significant behind in your hotel rooms—you didn’t trust the hotel staff enough to not misuse it if they found anything related to BTS in one of your rooms—you had been the one that took care of it all. It was kinda on you, because you didn’t trust anyone from your team to do the latter responsibly. So, quite naturally, you were dead on your feet by the time you got into your soft as a cloud beddings at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Sleep pulled you in the seconds you rugged your covers up.

You were very dead on your feet when you got to the BTS dorm, five hours after you’d gotten into bed. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in your system for more than a few weeks, now, but man did you have a hangover.

So it goes without saying that when you bumped into someone on your way to Jungkook’s studio, your eyes were half shut. You wouldn’t have thought much of it and might have slinked away with a mumbled apology, if not for the familiar voice than greeted you.

“Good morning. Looks like you had a rough night?”

You blinked, miles away from sleep within a second when your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. Taehyung was dressed in the routine BTS loungewear that consisted of a pastel t-shirt that was one too many sizes bigger on him and dark sweatpants that covered his feet. His hair was the usual black and curly, mostly pulled away from his forehead with a few tendrils dangling over his brows.

Your interaction with him had been meagre throughout this week, only consisting of respectful nods of greetings and waves of goodbyes. You’d meant to ask him how Simon was doing and how he felt about his ideas being taken now, after you’d had a talk with Simon about it. But you didn’t know what you would do if he said he was hating how things were and wanted you to do something about it. So you had kept your mouth shut and watched from the sidelines as you tried to gauge Taehyung’s inner feelings by his facial expressions.

He was an extremely closed off guy, never really letting his face show what he was truly feeling. But sometimes you would catch him looking into space as if he was zoning out of his conversation with Simon. Now, he could very well be thinking deeply about something Simon said—you really couldn’t be sure with the guy. But it had you worried, nevertheless.

God. Why did Simon have to pick out Taehyung’s name?

By the time you realised you’d been staring at him for too long, he had realized it too. “Anything wrong with my… hair?” he innocently questioned, threading his fingers through the front of it.

“No!” you yelped, making him flinch. “I mean, no, it’s not that. I, um. We were moving into our apartments last night and it got kinda late. My brain’s processing things a bit slow, today.”

Taehyung chuckled at that, nodding with his teeth on display. “It’s okay. Congratulations on the move. Hotels suck.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Awkward silence hung over the two of you as you looked at the floor, at your feet, at his feet, tried to discern if his pants were very dark gray or blue, cleared your throat, scratched your ear, met his shifty eyes again—

“How…how is working with Jungkook?”

His question caught you off-guard. You looked at him in surprise. “Uh…it’s, um. It’s good. Very comfortable, very productive. It’s great, actually.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down again. “Simon has been a better listener this week. Did you talk to him?”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders on hearing that. You grinned at him with all your teeth. “Really? That is really good to know. Comforting, even. I did talk to him, yes.”

Taehyung looked into your eyes as his lips spread into a slow, soft smile. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I thought you would think I was stupid for demanding so much, but…” He shrugged his shoulder, one corner of his lips ticking farther up his cheek. “You made it work. I feel so much better now.”

You exhaled, willing your heart to not beat so fast. It was your job to ensure they were all comfortable, this was part of what you were getting paid for. But somehow, the way Taehyung seemed to have taken it so personally made you not wanna mention the fact in the moment.

Also, he didn’t know how this wouldn’t last. You’d been giving Simon tips to handle himself professionally around Taehyung, literally every single day. It kept the wheel running, but it was tiring both of you out, immensely. Simon was out of his element and you were getting slowly overwhelmed and under-rest due to the amount of responsibilities piling on for you. You were determined to talk this out with your boss, this Sunday, and find a way out before you broke.

Right now, though, you gave Taehyung a bashful smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable and feel good about working on this project, Tae. I am constantly working out plans to better it.”

Taehyung looked at you with so many emotions swimming in his eyes, that the intensity of it almost made you wanna look away. But you didn’t. Instead, you tried to decode what any of it could mean.

This time the silence between you two was not awkward in the least. It was charged—heavy with this unknown tautness between your mind and heart and this indecipherable look in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae?”

The trance was broken by Jin, startling both of you.

He walked into the halfway from behind Taehyung, peering around him with a frown. His eyes widened when he saw you. You immediately bowed, always extremely cautious about being respectful around BTS’ oldest member. “Good morning, Jin-ssi.”

He chuckled at your address, insisting that you didn’t have to bow every single time. “Just the respectful good morning is fine. Did you just get here?”

You nodded, subtly glancing at Taehyung whose eyes were slightly rounded and still stuck on you. Why was he acting like you two were caught by Jin? You’d just been greeting each other and catching up!

Right?

Right.

“Ah! There comes Riya!” Jin suddenly announced the arrival of his partner on your team, cutely waving at someone behind you.

Your teammate Riya walked into the hallway after you, having walked here on her own insistence. “Good morning, Jin-ssi. Taehyung-ssi. Boss.”

You smiled at her, nodding in acknowledgement of the respect she paid. “Where’s Simon?” you questioned.

“Just here!” the man himself responded, rushing in after Riya.

You met Taehyung’s eyes, and he nodded with a meaningful look and a small smile on his lips. Your heart felt light.

The unexpectedly happy and positive start you’d gotten in the morning lasted with you the whole day, making your time with Jungkook a lot fun, and fulfilling in terms of work, too.

When Sunday came in and you received your boss’ call, her first question was about how well you were settled in the apartments, followed by how you’d handled things with Simon. You had done a decent job on the former, but the latter was gradually turning out to be a pain in your ass. You told your boss as much.

“Drag it out for another week, and then design a change of gameplan. If he really isn’t doing a good enough job by himself, it’s better if he works with someone else. This whole charade will tire both of you out. And V would be facing issues, too, if Simon’s heart isn’t into it.” Your boss had looked at you solemnly through the computer screen.

“Simon’s heart’s a bit too much into it, boss, that’s the whole issue.” You had derisively chuckled at your joke, but her words had left you thinking into the late hours of the night.

Taehyung had definitely been facing issues, you’d heard it from the man himself. And the respite he thought he’d gotten this week was momentary, because neither you nor Simon could honestly keep up with it for too long. And it was very unfair to Taehyung. This book was supposed to showcase a part of all the boys. A biography was the culmination of one’s whole life—something very personal, precious and endearing. The process of its creation should have been a similar experience for the boys, too.

You really would have to assign someone else to Taehyung.

On Monday morning, you knocked at Simon’s door at seven.

“Just this week, and then you switch,” you told him.

“Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!” Simon cried out.

“Please accommodate him the best you can.” You sighed. “I’m too tired to give you notes everyday. Will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll accommodate him the best I can, just as you said.”

You hadn’t taken his word for it, but it seemed like the knowledge of his misery ending soon had done Simon well. He did a fair job of maintaining his professional composure, and on Tuesday, when you went in to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you saw the two of them laughing about something, too. Taehyung had politely greeted you, exchanging more than a nod for the first time in more than ten days—minus that one altercation in the hallway, of course—and then immediately went back into the discussion.

He seemed to be really into it.

It made you feel a lot better.

On Friday, you and Jungkook went for a walk by the pool in the late afternoon with a cup of ice cream in your hands. He brought up Taehyung, asking how the elder was doing.

“You told me he was having some trouble with his partner?” Jungook asked, biting into a huge glob of chocolate ice-cream like a maniac and braving the brainfreeze with a straight face.

You grimaced at the sight. Then exhaled, plopping a spoonful from your own ice cream into your mouth. “He’s doing a lot better, now. It might not last, though”

Jungkook, instead of quizzing your ominous statement, nodded in understanding. “Does it have something to do with what I told you about hyung’s personality?”

You sighed. “Pretty much. We might have to change his partner.”

Jungkook paused at that. “Is there a possibility that…” He trailed off, confused, doe eyes looking at you.

You couldn’t lie to him. You shrugged. “Everything’s on the plate.”

On Sunday evening, you decided to gather the team for the call with your boss. Sending them a quick message once you all got home, you hopped into the bathroom for a long, relaxing showe.

When you came back, you stepped into your office to the welcome sight of your team occupying bean bags and chairs and spread across the entire surface area of the place.

Collectively, you all brought up Taehyung’s partner with the Editor-in-Chief.

“Why don’t you do it, Y/N?” your boss questioned you after the rest of them had briefed her with their progress so far and detailed out their future plans with their assigned boys.

You sighed. “I have been doing just as great as the rest of them, boss. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to stop working with Jungkook after we’ve been making such great progress.”

Your boss took her glasses off, the highlight on her nose glistening as her movement caught light. She shook her and then sighed. “One of you is going to have to make a sacrifice.”

Simon, rightfully, flinched with a guilty face.

“So either you talk one of your team members into doing it, or you do it yourself. You’ve got one whole week to discuss it. Tell me what you decide, next Sunday.”

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. You’d either have to force one of your team members. Or you’d have to disappoint Jungkook. Your prospects really weren't looking good.

You would like to believe you and Jungkook had become friends in these three weeks. It is impossible to remain a stone-faced stranger with someone literally relaying the story of his entire life to you. And besides that, too, Jungkook was a very likeable guy. He was a curious soul with a myriad of interests. Taking notes on literally every topic would always branch out into an enthusiastic conversation between the two of you.

Sighing as you recalled how the two of you had shared your roller-skating experience with each other just today, you shut your eyes and decided to finally go to sleep.

On Monday morning, your team members were gathered in your new office to begin with the scripting process of the biography. As you got down to comparing notes and checking off boxes, each one of you resolutely ignored the gigantic elephant in the room—that fact that one of you would not be working with the same person when this week was up.

Strangely, this forcible change of partners was weighing down on all of you not just because of how much more labour it would cost, but on an emotional level, too. Which was a very unfamiliar concept, at least to you. You never got attached to clients, knowing it would only cause hindrances when you had to criticize their work—which was why they were talking to you in the first place. You had been somewhat lucky too, in a way, because it wasn't easy for you to get attached to people.

But Jungkook turned out to be just a really easy person to get along with. You really had become friends.

This, you suddenly realised, would also mean that Jungkook would make friends with another partner just as easily.

“Guys, remember—it’s not just their story that we’re writing, it’s ours too!” you announced to your team, clapping your hands to raise their spirits as the six of them worked on their computers. “They’re the narrators, sure, but we are the writers. Use your words wherever you find fit, do not hesitate to trim, omit or add. This is what we were hired to do.”

At noon, you all ordered takeout and took a break.

“We’re all really on schedule, boss,” Riya, Jin’s partner, spoke up from her spot across the room from you. Her rounded eyes narrowed suddenly, and she winced. “Well… except Simon, but we kinda already expected that.”

Simon, seated on a bean bag to your immediate right, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been really shitty at your job, Si,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, commented, looking at Simon through her round framed glasses, her face displaying disappointment.

“He really has,” you added. “But it cannot go on like this. You’ll have to be really professional with your partner, this time round, Simon. You’ve really done a lot of damage with Taehyung. Boss won’t just pull you off the project if something like this happens again, she’ll fire you.”

Simon visibly gulped, nodding with his wide eyes fixated on you.

“So, who’s gonna take his place?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, butted in, prompting Sana to stop stretching. “Have you decided yet?” he asked you.

You exhaled. “Why not ask dear Simon who he wants to work with? The last time he kept protesting about the assigned choice, and I didn't listen. Maybe he’d have done better if the selection of his partner was voluntarily done by him.”

All eyes turned to Simon. He cleared his throat, looking beyond nervous. “Please don’t put me in this spot. One of you will have to let go of a month’s worth of hard work for me, as it is.”

You looked around the room. “Any one of you willing to switch?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at you incredulously. “No one’s gonna willingly give their research up for you, Simon,” Charlotte, the only redhead on your team and Hoseok’s partner, spoke with a roll of her eyes. “None of us.”

“Simon,” You sighed. “Choose.”

And then Simon squeezed his eyes shut and fisted both his hands to whisper, “Jungkook…maybe?”

Of fucking course.

Later that night, you had calmed yourself down enough to tell yourself that everything was gonna be okay. You could be a darn hardass professional when you needed to be. In fact, being humble and empathetic was usually what posed a challenge to you. You would very smoothly transition into working with Taehyung, you were sure of it.

You belatedly thought about how much change these past three weeks had already brought about in your nature. You were starting to show a lot more compassion than you’d thought yourself capable of. That kind of came in this job’s description, because biographies made people vulnerable, and vulnerable interviews required compassion.

You had to unlearn some of the things you’d picked up over the span of your adult life to save yourself from hurt, and also the guilt that came with hurting others. Jungkook also helped, in a way. His openness and just the overall cheerful vibe that his nature eluded made you want to be more of a friend to him than a writing guide or an interviewer.

You wondered how Taehyung would be.

There was something undeniably intense and mysterious about him. Now, you weren’t naive enough to want to “unravel” the guy’s mysteries, but you sure were irked and curious. Maybe he was one of those kinds of artists that literally lived in their art.

Back when you didn’t work in this company with this hectic schedule and had enough spare time on your hands to write, you used to pride yourself to be one of these kinds of artists, too. You lived in your stories, kept building characters up wherever you went, whatever you did. You wondered if it was something similar with Taehyung for music.

You would find out, eventually. There was no point pondering it so much.

Sighing, you turned off your side lamp and decided to retire for the night.

Your writing week was gliding past smoothly. It was just Wednesday, and you all, ahead of the schedule, were at the verge of finishing up your writing parts.

“Are we super efficient or did we sign up for a longer duration of time than needed for this whole project?” Sana questioned, typing away on her laptop.

You snorted. “Or maybe, we didn’t design the blueprint with as much uniformity as we’re required to.”

“You don’t always have to critique everything, boss,” Charlotte, Hoseok’s partner chimed in, flipping her long mane of auburn hair off her shoulder as she shot you a look.

You glared right back at her. “Uh, actually, I do. That’s kind of my job here.”

You’d been harsher than was needed, making the whole room go quiet. Only the clicking of keyboards echoed around you all for a while.

“Where’s Simon?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, asked after some time.

You sighed. “In his room, finishing up his writing work there. He doesn’t feel comfortable sitting between all of us because, and I quote, y’all give off really judgy vibes that fuck with my concentration.”

“That might actually be true,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, mumbled in Korean under her breath.

“Did you mail Manager Woo about the switch yet, boss?” Nathan asked you as you got up to get a refill of your coffee.

You exhaled. “Nope, I'm stalling,” you confidently confessed, leaving the office to make a trip to the kitchen. On your way back, you knocked at Simon’s door before peeking in. “You doing okay?” you asked him flatly.

Simon gave you a nod, not moving his gaze from the laptop screen. You rolled your eyes and came back to the office.

“Should one of us do it? If it won’t look too unprofessional?” Sana asked.

You wrinkled your nose. “It would look grossly unprofessional, Sana.” You pursed your lips as you sat behind your laptop again. “Fine, I’ll do it right now.”

You took a sip from your coffee, and opened your email. This was final, now — no coming back.

You were officially gonna start working with Kim Taehyung.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

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Tags: @tangledsparkles @hoefortaeshands @getmemyfries

#vantaenet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #thebtstown #taehyung angst #bts angst #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung imagine #bts imagine #v angst #v fluff #v imagine #jungkook imagine #bts v #bts jungkook #*mine #f: wbcs

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