#anyways having one of those night where im frustrated that i still care about his works

[definitelynotlazav]

god I have mixed feelings about one brandon sanderson

[khodorkovskaya]

Like, those things all meant something to you too! That's a v important thing to you and in a relationship. People are meant to be supportive of each other, like, why couldnt he chear you on or show enthusiasm and encouragement towards you

yeah! and he never did! about anything!

idk if it's bc my period is coming up or bc i spent the night at my parents' place yesterday and that brought back old memories, but i thought about him again last night and cried. more specifically i remembered how i caught him watching porn... and it really broke my heart and still does.

i don't remember if i told this story here before but i'll tell it again bc it's such a clear example of what kind of behaviour to avoid in men.

so in my second year of uni i got really depressed. there was covid, i didn't see the point of studying anymore, i hated everything and our relationship was also going nowhere. im not gonna get into the details of it, but the important thing to know is that i was depressed. i lost weight, would burst out crying out of nowhere, i was a mess.

and when you're depressed, well, you have no libido. it felt like everything was frozen down there. i couldn't get my coochie to cooperate. and, as my ex never made any particular effort to console me or provide me with the least amount of care and compassion a depressed person could need, i didn't feel particularly motivated to sleep with him either.

and just as a side note, i talked about my depression a lot. my parents really helped me thru it and i started going to therapy so that it wouldn't get worse, i really tried my best to let it be known that i was depressed and that i needed help. and when it came to the sex stuff, i would also explain it to my ex, so that he wouldn't feel undesired. i even made a list of things that turn me on for him in at attempt to make things easier for him. (he didn't care at all about the list btw. bc things that turn me on aren't sexual enough i guess. it was mostly things like cuddling, having deep conversations, looking into each others eyes, romantic gestures, etc. it was too boring for him i guess.)

so anyway, time goes by and our sex life gets more and more frustrating. bear in mind he had previously told me on several occasions that in his mind cheating and not telling your partner about can be justified. he'd sometimes bring up things like "when couples get older, they usually don't have sexual chemistry anymore and the dad goes after the young secretary, you know what i mean hahaha? that's probably gonna be us one day hahahahaha". and coming from a family where the dad did leave the family for a younger woman, that really stood out to me. so even if he meant it as a joke, it was not funny to me at the slightest.

and so here i am, feeling sexually useless, my boyfriend telling me that im not trying hard enough and that he feels offended that i don't find him desirable anymore (even though i had told him a million times that that wasn't the issue) and then it hits me like shit.... here we go... he's gonna cheat on me just like he said. i can't provide him with what he needs, so he's gonna go find someone else.....

so every time we had sex it felt like it was some kind of exam i had to pass to keep him. i became overly conscious about what i did and how i acted in bed, i started feeling fat and started hating my body, it was horrible. and naturally, the sex became even worse. and so he became more and more pushy. and it became this vicious cycle.

bear in mind that as i said, i had made that list of things that turn me on. and plus i would also tell him that i felt like going on a date could maybe make things a bit better. we could spend some quality time together, have deep conversations, eat something nice and the romance could turn me on, it would be a win-win. but he never took me out on a date, not once 🙃

so the whole thing started in like april 2020 and it was reaaaally bad in winter 2021. and now it was setember 2021 and still no date, constant reminders of how im not good enough from his end every time we have sex and frustration upon frustration upon frustration.

summer is coming to an end and he's like "ohh we haven't gone hiking this year, let's go hiking, that could be your date". and im like shit, i don't like hiking. but he pushes me to do it. (and to be fair it was quite fun, but the point is he organised the camping trip for himself and not to please me.) so we're in the car, on our way to the mountains. i open his phone to look up google maps and... there's porn. gangbang porn. my whole world starts to crumble.

of course i cant live upto his expectations in the bedroom! im up against porn actresses! women who do this for a living! it's like comparing a regular person to a supermodel, like you can't compete with that. here i am, a regular girl without any spicy sexual fantasies, low self esteem and depression. my boyfriend prefers watching violent porn to making love to me and the only way to get him back is... to be better than porn actresses...? it's a lost cause, isn't it?

so im there like fuckkkk and he starts nervously laughing like "oopsie, you caught me ahaha". and i have two options: either A, confront him about it or B, suck it up and postpone the conversation until the end of the hike. and we're already at the mountains at this point. confronting him would mean making a uturn and ruining the "date" i was begging him for months for. maybe this hike could be my chance to get him back? he loves hiking, so if i show interest in hiking, maybe he would love me and be more compassionate with me! so i choose option B.

after walking for two days straight, the hike is finally over and we get home. im exhausted, my legs hurt like hell. as we lie in bed, he wants to have sex with me. i say "not now, im sooo tired", hoping that he will understand. we just came back from a two day hike! he will undestand, right? but of course he doesn't and he gets angry at me again. "this is why i watch porn," he says. and i want to die.

so i tell myself, i will do anything for him. i will prove to him that i can do it, that im capable!

(ive always had a deep fear of making the first move and initiating sex. what if he thinks that im a slut? what if i do something wrong and he will think it's weird?)

and so, despite my fears, i decide to sacrifice it all for him. my legs are in pain, my heart is pounding in my ears because im terrified, i feel like this is my last chance to get him to like me. so i roll over and start kissing him. the adrenaline is crazy, i feel like it's life or death. im holding back tears, as im thinking about the women in the porn videos he watches.

and my worst fear comes true.

he just lies there.

he doesn't kiss me back, he doesn't put his arms around me. he just lies there.

and im like fuck. here we go. im weird. im ugly. im useless. he's already made up his mind. fuck, maybe i deserve to be cheated on, im so worthless. it literally feels like my whole existence is falling apart. im devastated.

so i pull back from the kiss and ask him if he's okay. and he says "you see now? this is how i feel". he basically decided to punish me for saying no to sex earlier.

so yeah... it really broke my heart... and i don't know when it will heal. because i still think about it sometimes and it makes me cry.

and it really sucks because this whole thing could've been avoided if back in 2020 when my depression had just began, he'd just said "hey babe, you're not in the mood? that's okay! we can just cuddle and watch a movie if you want. im always here for you no matter what. we'll figure things out together, don't worry about it, okay? i love you!". that alone would've made me want to have sex with him. maybe if he had said that, my depression wouldn't have lasted as long as it did. i wouldn't have had the body issues and the self esteem issues and a broken heart... but it turned out his penis was more important than all of that.

[moririki]

⤷ MORE THAN YOU'D BARGAIN FOR

DENJI X READER -> 1.7K
when it comes to a fool blinded by love, it sure hurts to have the short end of the stick

REQUEST -> ✰
CONTAINS -> angst, friends with benefits‼️, happy ending bc i'm weak like that, denji not knowing how to process emotions, very loose college!au cos i'm lazy, makima being slightly antagonised because fuck her, mentions of sex but nothing super explicit i don't think
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> thinking about denji's hands. i want to learn how to animate manga panels now so i can do a csm edit. also the writing style got kinda boring im SORRY

HEARTBREAK WAS ALWAYS BOUND TO HAPPEN IN THESE SORT OF RELATIONSHIPS. anyone with a pair of eyes and ears could give a clear answer to the question "who does denji like?" and no matter how much you wanted that answer to change, it would never be you.

even when the blonde boy had been so insistent on his heart belonging to another, he still had urges. so under the influence of one too many bottles of alcohol, it was a fairly easy decision for both of you to fall into bed together. more than once. more than you'd care to admit.

being with denji was nice. he was funny, sweet at times and vulgar during the others, and you found yourself repeating a mantra of don't catch feelings for your friend during your time together. and truth be told, it was hard not to, even when you and denji had finished your business and the topic of conversation always seemed to make its way back to makima.

it left a bitter taste in your mouth when denji acted like nothing had happened between the pair of you in other settings. the bitterness turned sour when you realised that there was no reason for him to have to either, and you cursed yourself when you realised you had done the worst thing possible and gone and fallen for your friend who so clearly wouldn't like you back.

but there were times where you thought that you just might have a chance.

even though your cursed your heart for fluttering and rearing its head each time so willingly at denji's mercy, you couldn't help but take every offhand action of his as a ray of hope. with the way his hands engulfed yours to anchor himself as he thrusted into you, the way his lips left urgent kisses on your lips as you panted beneath him, the way he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you cried out in ecstasy.

and even when you were lying next to each other in his bed, catching your breath. you would turn to look at his face sometimes, only to see him staring at you already with a look in his eyes that could only be described as wistful. but you were a fool to think that you could ever upseat makima in denji's eyes.

false hope could only get you so far.

with his breath tickling the back of your neck and his large hand rubbing patterns into your hip, this false hope really had gotten you somewhere. but all good things must come to an end. words that you dreaded to say weighed heavy on your tongue, but you dragged yourself along, lifting them just enough to feel them escape your lips before you could really stop them.

"denji, what are we?"

you felt the hand that rested on you go still, and the arm that was poised as a pillow for you went rigid. hell, the boy that was holding you so close to his chest had practically stopped breathing, and you felt your eyelids slide shut in a bitter defeat before you heard another word. it's not like you needed them to understand how he felt, anyway.

"we're friends, aren't we?" his tone was so controlled, so even and level and unlike the denji that you knew and, dare you say it, loved. it sent another shot tubneling straight through your heart, and you were glad that you were currently facing away from him. you wouldn't be able to handle seeing the look on his face as all of your tentative hopes were crushed under his heel. all you wanted to do was curl in on yourself and maybe try to cry away the numbness that was invading your body from the chest outward.

you raised a shaking hand to push denji's own off of you, and you felt the mattress underneath you creak as the boy shifted in confusion at your behaviour.

"y/n?"

your kept your back turned to him as you got out of his bed, pulling on your own clothed and scowling in frustration when you couldn't find your shirt anywhere. you were seconds away from letting the first droplets fall, and you did not want to let denji see.

you snagged some random material of a shirt off of the bedroom floor, yanking it over your head and turning to face denji with a face that you hoped wasn't too scrunched from holding back your tears.

"we're not just friends and you fucking know it."

you didn't have time to register his wounded facial expression or the pleading calls of your name that he cast towards your retreating figure, but you grabbed your shoes before leaving his dorm, shutting the door behind you a little too forcefully and storming off back to your own room.

you must look insane, padding along the halls with no shoes as angry tears streaked down your face and you tried your best not to audibly sob. by the time you had made it back to your room your eyes were streaming, and you flopped on your bed with little regard for anything else other than crying your eyes out.

truth be told, after that fateful night and the best cry of your life you felt much better. you knew where you stood, you had your feelings sorted out, and you knew that a little distance would really help you to finally move on from your friend.

now, if only denji would stop calling and texting you like nothing had happened.

you felt like you could scream when you saw a notification from him, asking if you wanted to study for the test that you had next week. you bit back the petty urge to ask him if he wanted to study with you as just friends, instead opting to turn your phone off and bury your face in your pillow once again.

matters of the heart take time, after all.

on denji's end, things weren't looking much better. he brushed off his confusion at your actions and words when you had left so abruptly the other day, only to find himself staring at his ceiling trying to decipher his feelings and what the hell you had meant.

he likes makima. and he has, for a while now. he could count on one hand the amount of times he had interacted with the girl who sat in front of him in the lecture hall, and every time had been met with this strange giddy feeling in his chest. though it was rare, he knew that feeling.

but the one he felt right now was so, so, different. when the door clicked shut behind you, it felt like a piece of him had up and left along with you. the very reason that he had accelerated things so far in your relationship was because of how right things felt with you. the slightest graze of your fingertips across his chest didn't light any fireworks in his mind, but it's like warmth perforated his skin and was injected straight into him from you.

truth be told, that feeling was the most addicting he had ever felt. and when he heard that air of finality right after the door shut behind you, it didn't take long for denji to realise just how cold everything felt without you.

but he still liked makima, right?

that giddy feeling in his chest he got from her was enough to fill the you-shaped hole, right?

you not talking to him wasn't what made his heart hurt, right?

he only realised just how wrong he had it when he talked to makima for the fourth time ever. she had turned in her seat, even smiling at him and asking for a pen, and all that came to mind was how much he missed your smile.

hell, he missed everything. the sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair. the way you fit against him and said his name. and that's when he realised this you-related feeling was.

longing.

there was a knock on your door. and another. you groaned, rolling over to check the time to see that it was three in the morning.

by the time you had cracked your door open you saw a flash of blond hair and a face all-too-familiar, you knew it was too late to slam your door shut. denji's face perked up, and you already knew that you were done for.

he lifted his hand, revealing a pretty albeit crumpled bouquet of flowers. you almost giggled to yourself, guessing that the mastermind of that romantic gesture was most likely denji's roommate aki. but it was appreciated, nonetheless.

"what do you want, denji?" you were painfully aware of just how much of a mess you looked right now- eyes still red around the rim from how many self-pitying tears you had shed over this entire situation.

denji's mouth and opened and closed, and you sighed against your barely open door which still had a chain on it.

"i'm not in the mood, denji."

"no, no, it's just that i wanted to say that i've finally figured out what we are." it appears tgat your friend finally found his voice. you looked him in the eye again, trying not to let the hope in your heart build itself too high. "we're way more than friends, y/n."

you felt any resistance crumble at those words, and the sheepish smile on your face grew.

"so, can i come in?" you smiled at denji, shutting your door to undo the latch before opening it again, wide enough to let him back in to your life. consider him a weakness of yours.

the first thing denji did when he crossed the threshold of your door was wrap his arms around you, dried tears and crumpled flowers and all, and bury his face in your hair. the only words he had to offer was a mumbled i miss you into your skin, and you felt your body melt against him like it had so many times before.

when you finally broke apart, you couldn't help but wonder.

"so, what are the flowers for denji?" the boy before you blushed, his eyes flitting off to the side. he raised a hand to the back of his neck, taking a breath to summon some courage.

"i was hoping... that i could take you out on a date. or be your boyfriend. something like that."

"what?" denji was still bright red, though his eyes were locked onto yours.

"you heard me." you smiled once again, taking a step forwards and effectively closing the distance between you two.

"i would love to."

take a look at the menu - ,, ⚖️ ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[judeswhore]

nothing on you - mason mount

part 2 of not yours ITS HERE IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG AND I HOPE ITS OKAY

for @mounthavertz bc i didn’t want to ruin ur life <3

Mason hated being in a fight with you, even small petty fights he’d feel bad and would grovel more than necessary and then the two of you would be talking again. But this wasn’t just a fight over who cheated at Monopoly, this was a full blown he’d royally fucked up fight and he didn’t know if he could ever fix it.

He knew from the very beginning that sleeping with you would be a mistake, not because he didn’t really want to, but because he knew that once you broke that barrier there was no going back. Mason knew from that very first night you spent together that he’d never be able to give his heart to anyone else. And he’s an idiot for not telling you that, he’s an idiot for keeping his feelings a secret for fear he’d ruin your friendship because he went and did that anyway.

He never meant for it to seem like he was thriving off the attention of the girls in the club, he really wasn’t, the entire time he’d been thinking about you and how those girls could never compare. He didn’t want to draw attention to the two of you, your relationship was kept incredibly quiet and he knew if he put his hands on you in that dress he wouldn’t be able to take them away. So he’d distracted himself by making small talk and sneaking glances at you at the bar.

Something had flipped inside of him when he’d saw you with Chilly. He should be the one allowed to touch you like that, he didn’t want anyone else to have that privilege when he already knew just which buttons to press to have your legs shaking. But then Elle had asked him to go with her and Mason knows that’s what really upset you. The thought that you could be easily replaced by a one night stand and then he’d come crawling straight back the second he had his trousers zipped up.

Mason had sent you over one hundred messages since the night before and had called probably just as much but every single one of his pleas to talk had gone unanswered. He felt like he’d lost something and didn’t know where to look to find it, his mind was a mess of thoughts that you’d never forgive him. He didn’t care about the sex, he just couldn’t lose you as a friend.

He let out a frustrated groan into his hands, after attempting to call you yet again. He wanted to see you in person, wanted to tell you everything but he still didn’t know where you’d ended up last night. He pulled his phone toward him again and pulled up Hannah’s contact, your best friend answering on the third ring.

“If it isn’t the man of the hour.”

“Where is she?”

“Hmm. I don’t think she’d want me to tell you.” Mason strained to hear if you were in the background but it sounded like Hannah was at work at the coffee house.

“Hannah, please.”

“You fucked up, y’know.”

“I’m more than aware of what I did. I need to talk to her.” Mason rubbed his knuckles into his eyes, chest tight with the fear of you really hating him.

“If she wanted to talk to you, Mason, she would have by now.”

“I need to fix this. Let me fix it.” He heard Hannah huff out a breath and his heart picked up a little.

“She’s at work till 1AM then she said she was going straight back to her flat.” Mason was nodding even though Hannah couldn’t see and he was flicking his gaze up to the clock on his wall. It was still only 6PM.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I called I just… She’s not replying and I need to see her.” He pushed himself up from the chair at the kitchen island.

“If you’re just going to hurt her again Mason, don’t even bother going. Don’t put her through more than you already have.”

“I never meant to hurt her.”

“Maybe not but you did. I have to go, if she comes crying to me just know I will rip your balls off.” Mason couldn’t help the little smile that pulled at his lips.

“I’m not going to hurt her. But thanks, Hannah.”

Mason parked his car outside of your block of flats a little before 12AM, unable to sit in his house and wait any longer. He switched turned the engine off and settled back in his seat, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down past his fingers to avoid the little chill still in his car. He’d texted you a few times since the phone call with Hannah but you still hadn’t read the messages and he hadn’t told you he was coming tonight.

He texted Declan while he waited, letting his best friend rail road him for being such a dickhead but he must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing he knew he was being jolted awake by someone whacking their fist against his window. At first he thought it was the police and someone had called them complaining about a weird man lurking out front but then his eyes had focused and it was you glaring at him through the window. Despite the look on your face Mason’s heart thumped. He scrambled to get out of the car, almost tripping in his haste to be face to face with you.

“Why are you stalking me?” You asked, completely ignoring his gaze so you could rifle through your bag for your keys.

“You were ignoring me.”

“Of course I was, I don’t want to talk to you but that doesn’t give you permission to linger like some weirdo.” You successfully found your keys, finally glancing up and meeting his eyes. Mason noticed the way you were shivering slightly in the cold air and wanted nothing more than to wrap you up against him.

“You walked home?”

“No, I got a taxi. Go home, Mason.” He shook his head and took a step forward but you flinched back and Mason’s stomach plummeted.

“(Y/N)..”

“I was ignoring you for a reason, I don’t want to see you so go away.” You turned and started up the walkway to your building but Mason quickly followed, clicking the lock on his car over his shoulder. He stepped in front of you, hands on your arms.

“We need to talk.” He tried not to flinch away from your harsh glare, he knew you were angry but he just wanted you to listen to him.

“I don’t want to talk. I want to go to bed because I’m exhausted and I don’t have the energy to have this out with you. I’m sure you can find someone else to fuck. There were plenty of girls passing out their numbers last night.” You started forward again and Mason trailed behind you like a lost puppy, willing his heart ache to go away for just five minutes. “You can’t follow me all the way inside, Mount.”

“Please just let me explain.” You spun around at the front entrance, traces of anger replaced with a look of bone deep tiredness.

“What’s there to explain? You like the attention you get from girls, myself included and I was stupid to think that I was the only girl who had your whole focus. You just wanted to fuck me and whenever you had better options you used them.” Mason opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “You were a prick to me. You fucked that girl and then got mad at me for dancing with a guy. We aren’t dating, Mason, we were just sleeping together, it’s fine, we can do whatever we want.”

Mason shook his head, arm reaching past you to grip the door handle so you couldn’t open it.

“I didn’t sleep with Elle.”

“That’s bullshit. The two of you disappeared and you can’t deny how smug you seemed when you first came back.” Your eyes had gone a little shiny and it made Mason’s heart clench painfully.

“I didn’t sleep with her, (Y/N). I haven’t slept with anyone else since you.” He watched as you shook your head this time, disbelief clouding your features. You shoved his arm away from the door and took off inside.

“You’re a liar.”

“Why won’t you believe me?” Mason followed after you, unable to keep the panic from his voice. He kept on your heels as you started up the stairs and he briefly noted that they still hadn’t fixed your lift.

“Because I see the way you are around girls, Mason. I see them throw themselves at you and you act like it’s nothing.” You were slamming your feet against the each step and Mason was worried someone was going to come out and start yelling.

“I act like it’s nothing because it is nothing. I don’t care what they do. Have you ever actually seen me go off with a girl?”

“You went off with one last night! Right in front of me.”

“No I didn’t. I went to the bar because I was sick of seeing you rub yourself all over my best mate.”

“Yeah well I was sick of you flirting with everything that had tits so.” Mason clasped his hand around your wrist when you made it to your floor, spinning you around to face him.

“So you did it to make me jealous?”

“So what if I did? It doesn’t matter anymore.” You tried to pull away but Mason was ridged, eyes burning into yours.

“Why would me flirting with girls piss you off, (Y/N)? I thought we were just sleeping together?” He mocked you slightly with your previous words and he watched you falter and fumble. You blinked at him a few times before answering.

“Because it was shitty of you to do it right in front of me and then just expect me to go home and have sex with you. Because it was wrong of you to always act like that but get mad at me for a bit of dancing. We were just sleeping together so why does it even matter anymore? I’m sure you can find someone else.”

“I don’t want to find anyone else.” You shook your head at this, finally pulling your arm away.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend like you care about me as more than just a shag. I’m not doing that with you.” Mason made an exasperated noise, pushing his hand through his hair.

“God, (Y/N), it was never just about the sex for me how can you not see that?” You were still shaking your head, moving down the hallway.

“Please go home, Mason. I don’t want to do this.”

“Will you just stop and listen to me?”

“I’m not being hurt by you again! You string me along like I mean nothing to you! I’m just here when you need someone to stroke your ego.” The two of you are nearing your front door and Mason feels sick with the thought that you’re going to go inside, lock the door and never speak to him again. He can’t lose you.

“You’re an idiot.” You spin around to face him, key ready to go into your lock.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m fucking in love with you.” Mason stopped dead in the hallway, eyes widening slightly as he watched you rear back.

“Stop.”

“(Y/N)-“

“No, no, stop it. Mason, please don’t.” Your voice was small and you turned to fumble with your lock, key slipping in your fingers. You felt Mason carefully come up behind you, hand covering yours to help steady it. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“I love you. I was never with you for the sex, (Y/N/N). If that was the only way I could have you then I’d take what I could get but it was never about that.” Your hand shook slightly under his. “It’s always only been you.”

You took in a shuddering breath and unlocked your door, pushing inside but leaving the door open. Mason figured you were letting him in so followed behind you, tracing your steps into the kitchen where you went straight to the fridge.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Why would you let me torture myself thinking I was just another stupid girl who you could keep hanging on?” You slowly turned to face him, lips turned down slightly.

“I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” You closed the fridge and leant against it, your eyes glued to his.

“That I’d tell you and it would ruin everything and I’d lose you completely. It was easier to just keep pretending it was just sex that way I could keep you in my life.” He took a small step towards you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jumper.

“You’re a dick.”

“I know. And I’m so fucking sorry, (Y/N). I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like your weren’t important to me.”

“Do you know how much that hurt? Even as your friend, Mason, thinking that in your eyes I was easily replaced and easily thrown away. I’d let you hurt me by being around all those girls and then I’d still end up back in your bed.” You ran your hands over your face.

“Tell me how to fix it. Tell me I haven’t lost you completely.” Mason knew his voice sounded desperate but he didn’t care. He just needed to know he had some sort of chance to make things right. “Forget about the sex and everything else, just as a friend. Please tell me I can fix that.”

You shook your head, stepping away from the fridge, your eyes darting from Mason to different points in your kitchen.

“I don’t want to be your friend, Mason.” His heart plummeted, eyelashes fluttering a few times but before he could say anything you continued. “I’ve been waiting three years for you to tell me that you liked me. I’ve hurt myself thinking that I could never have you how I wanted because I was just another girl who you could use out of convenience. I don’t want to be your friend.”

You’re only a few steps away from him, close enough so that if he wanted he could reach out and pull you closer. He clenched his fists, tilting his head as you took another couple of steps.

“Then what do you want?” You stopped directly in front of him, head tilted to meet his gaze.

“I want you to know that I love you too. That it hurt so much seeing you with other girls because I wanted to be the only girl in your life. I wanted to be the one that you showed off and flirted with and looked at like I hung the moon. That I danced with Ben because I knew it would hurt you and I wanted to get you back for being with that girl.” Your chests were practically touching and Mason could feel the heat from your body.

“I really haven’t been with anyone else since you. I always only wanted you.” He watched as your eyes fluttered closed and you took in a deep breath. Your cheeks were slightly pink and Mason finally reached out to touch you, smiling softly when you leant into his hand.

“I still hate you for making me think I was replaceable.”

“I deserve it.” He cups your jaw in his hands, tilting your head to him. “There will never be anyone like you. Tell me what you want.”

“I want to do it right. I want to forget about the sex and everything that we did and I want to go out with you. On a proper date.” You told him, reaching up to grip his wrists.

“I would be honoured to take you out. We’ll do it properly this time, like everyone else.” Mason dropped a soft kiss against your forehead, heart warming when you melt against him.

“Do you want to stay?” You whispered, eyes closed and you felt Mason nod.

“I’d like that.” He brushed your hair back off your face. “None of those other girls had anything on you. There’ll never be anyone who makes me feel the way you do.” He tilted your head again, eyes burning into yours. “I love you.”

[fandomlit]

neutral, chap. 4 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary after waking from a taunting nightmare, tommy expels some late night energy on some wandering mobs. you give him another lesson about taking care of himself, even when working hard, and tommy asks if you’ll teach him archery, which, of course, doesn’t go without entertainment.

warnings nightmares, mob killing

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gif cred belongs to @halcyoncraft

he was running again. he didn’t know where or from what, but his legs carried him far and strongly, weaving him through trees and grass and other obstacles along the way. he didn’t know how in danger he was, but he wasn’t going to stop and find out.

then he tripped.

when he flipped onto his back, it was that goddamn mask staring down at him, the lips just under it laughing, “you’re so weak, tommy! did you do anything while you were in neutral?” then his axe came down and tommy braced himself for the pain and release of death.

he woke up instead.

sweating under his covers, tommy sucked in a harsh breath as he sat up. he threw the soft cotton off of him, running a warm hand down his face. it was just a dream; he was safe in neutral.

looking out of the window next to him, he saw the moon still high in the sky, casting a cool light into his bedroom. dream’s words rang through his head like a bell, and he rubbed at his temples with a sigh. was he actually getting weak? was relaxing such a bad thing? at the very least, some part of him must have thought so to conjure a nightmare like that..

with another sigh, tommy lifted himself out of bed and flipped open the ender chest. he drew out his sword before heading to the main floor of the house.

when he reached the bottom of the stairs, a voice called out to him, “tommy?” his heart nearly stopped for a moment, before peeking into the kitchen and realizing it was just y/n. she sat in candlelight, writing in a small journal with a slice of half-eaten pumpkin pie next to her. “are you alright?”

“yeah,” he breathed, his voice still heavy with sleep. “just gonna go kill some mobs.”

she nodded. she looked tired, and a part of tommy felt bad knowing that she was most definitely going to wait for him to return. “okay. have at it, kid.”

he nodded, turning to leave the kitchen. before he did so, he pursed his lips and looked over his shoulder to y/n. “you should go to bed.”

she gave him a smile, scribbling something down in the small journal. “i will, tommy. just gotta finish this up..” his natural curiosity was drawn to the small book, and he almost asked y/n what she was writing. but then dream’s voice rang through his mind again, and tommy silently headed for the doors of the house.

the night air was refreshing on his warm skin, cool and still as the moon illuminated the frontal beauty of neutral territory. he took a deep, calming breath of that crisp air before focusing on the task at hand: proving to himself that dream was wrong. that dream is always wrong.

after about twenty zombies, ten spiders, countless creepers, and a few endermen, tommy finally felt the burn in his arms become nearly too much to bear. he panted as he struck down one last spider, turning and finally deciding to return back to the comfort of y/n’s home.

he sheathed his sword when he finally entered the house, going straight to the kitchen to see that y/n was still awake and writing in her small journal.

“ready to go to bed?” he asked gruffly.

she looked up slowly before nodding, placing her quill down and capping her ink. “any trouble out there?”

“no,” he spoke, shaking his head. “wrote everything you needed to?” y/n blew out her candle and went to join the boy in the doorway to the kitchen.

“as much as i could, anyway,” she shrugged, smiling lazily as they began to walk toward the stairs. “what was your nightmare about?”

tommy was slightly startled, but a little too tired to react drastically to y/n’s deduction. “how’d you know i had a nightmare?”

“i’ve had them before,” she said simply. “and it seemed natural that you’d expel some energy onto mobs after such a thing.”

“you’re smart,” tommy credited.

“thank you,” y/n yawned.

they continued to climb the stairs in silence as tommy considered his words. “i was being hunted by dream again, but this time you weren’t there to save me. he called me weak and killed me.”

“so you wanted to prove to yourself that despite allowing yourself peace, you didn’t have to sacrifice your strength to get there,” y/n summed.

the boy half-smiled. she was spot on, as always. “exactly,” tommy breathed. 

y/n was silent for a moment as she thought. they stopped at the hallway to tommy’s room and it then occurred to tommy’s tired mind that her room was downstairs; she was walking with him because she cared about him. 

“honestly, tommy, if this is a real concern for you, then there is no harm in taking time out of your day to work out and train,” y/n spoke. “but the most important thing is to recognize when enough is enough, and when enough becomes too much. you’ve allowed yourself peace and care for the last two weeks, and achieving such a state doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice fighting or training; it just means that you need to be more aware and in tune with yourself as you’re doing it.” tommy nodded.

“don’t overwork yourself, is the summary here,” she said, picking a cobweb off of his shirt. “let yourself do the things you want, but make sure it’s not wearing you down. that’s taking care of yourself.”

“alright,” tommy spoke quietly. “thank you, y/n.”

“of course, kid,” she smiled. “get some sleep, alright? if you have another nightmare you’re free to bother me.” tommy nodded again. “good night, tommy.”

“good night, y/n,” he yawned as she turned to head down to her room. he made sure he heard her door shut before finally heading to his own room.

...

“can you teach me archery?” tommy questioned the next morning at breakfast. it was a question that had bugged him since y/n had first revealed her skills just a few days prior, and since he was going to start training, he figured that might be a good place to start.

“sure,” she chuckled as she scooped some more fruit onto his nearly half-eaten plate of french toast.

“why the laugh?” he questioned through a mouthful of berries.

she shrugged to herself. “your curiosity is showing.”

“i’ve been wondering about it since you took out the mob,” tommy admitted. “if i want to get stronger.. i think this is a good way to.”

“perfecting a skill is the perfect way to get stronger,” y/n voiced. “of course i’ll teach you, kid.” she smiled and he turned back to his breakfast with his own grin. “finish up your food and meet me in the basement; we gotta get you a bow first.”

tommy hadn’t been in the basement of the house yet. he opened the heavy, dusty trapdoor and assumed y/n didn’t go down their often either. he slid down the ladder easily and was immediately hit with heat.

y/n had a welding station upstairs in her shop area, but the basement had a more broad and intense version of that area. several anvils, all cracked and rusted and adorned with different materials were scattered in a sort of pattern amongst the space, a fire burning high in a fireplace at the far side of the room. seeing no sign of y/n, tommy moved to the room to his left.

the next room held a large nether portal, as well as a small farm for netherwart. the dark room felt empty to him, and he had to remind himself that he was in fact in y/n’s house still. he remembered she had said that she didn’t like going to the nether.

“i’m in here, tommy!” she called out. he took another left into a small storage room, where y/n was rustling through a chest. “how tall are you, kid?”

“6’1”,” he answered.

y/n smiled. “you’re a lot taller than i’ll ever be.” she took out a pretty oak bow, slightly scratched and obviously old. “you’ll have to use this for now, until i can make you one that’s your size.” he took the bow from her hands, shrugging.

“it’s fine.”

“good,” she hummed, still shuffling through the chest as tommy took the time to look around the small room.

“what’re the dispensers for?” tommy asked, staring at the wall that held the three stone tools.

“im nothing if not prepared, tommy,” y/n spoke as she took out a quiver and began to fill it with arrows for him. “in case of emergency, those dispensers will set off flares to let others know that im in trouble or that neutral is in danger.”

tommy nodded, still looking at the obviously unused dispensers. “smart.”

“i hope so,” she sighed, handing him the quiver of arrows. he strapped it around himself as she continued, “let’s just hope i never have to use them, yeah?”

“yeah,” he chuckled. she gave him a smile, hoisting her bow higher in her grip.

“you ready to shoot some things?”

...

“relax your shoulders,” y/n reminded. tommy did so, his fingers still white with effort against the taut string of the bow. “don’t pull so hard, tommy. you’re shaking.” he sighed as he let the string and arrow go limp, lowering his bow as y/n approached him closer.

it was his second day of archery training, and he was still missing nearly every target. y/n was a calm and collected teacher, offering him advice that was pointed directly for him and reassured him that there was no rush in the learning process. but after missing fifteen or so shots in a row, tommy was getting frustrated.

and it didn’t help with sapnap and george staring at him through the kitchen windows.

“doin’ great, kid,” sapnap encouraged weakly, taking a drink of the lemonade y/n had lovingly prepared for the boys. just watching the older man sip made tommy’s mouth dry, but he was determined to make five shots in a row before taking a break.

tommy glared at the man before turning his gaze back to his mentor. “ignore him, tommy,” y/n spoke gently. “nick couldn’t hit a target if it was three paces away.”

“that’s a lie!”

“im kidding,” y/n laughed, placing a hand on tommy’s shoulder and turning him away from the distraction that was sapnap. “but seriously, there’s almost always going to be someone watching when you shoot. the more you can tune them out, the better. just focus on your aim--and make sure your grip is looser. you’re gonna snap that string in no time otherwise.”

“loose grip, focus on aim,” tommy breathed and she patted his shoulder as he turned back to the target ahead of him. he hoisted the bow up slowly and pulled the string back just enough that it wasn’t fully taut. he made sure his aim was a little higher than his target, and released the whizzing arrow. the arrow pierced just outside of the center ring.

“perfect,” y/n smiled. “now, do it again.” and he did, taking another deep breath and allowing himself to focus in on the feel of the rough wood on his fingertips, and the tight string he was pulling. the arrow hit just beside his last. she nodded encouragingly. “keep going.”

tommy could feel his heart start to thump in his chest from the excitement of his accurate aim. he took another calming breath and watched as the arrow lodged closer to the center.

“great aim,” she complimented and he grinned as he pulled another one back, trying to contain his shaking as he aimed. the arrow shot lower than his previous, but on the target nonetheless. “still a good shot. one more?”

“yeah,” tommy nodded, licking his dry lips as he retrieved another arrow from his quiver. heart still thumping with utter excitement and pride at y/n complimentary words, he quickly released the arrow and his smile dropped as the arrow lodged into the ground before the target.

“hey, that’s fine!” y/n assured as tommy groaned and dropped his head. “four in a row is an amazing improvement, tommy. you should take a break and reward yourself.”

tommy sighed, looking to the shameful arrow. “yeah. alright.” he dropped the bow to the ground along with his quiver. he looked to his slightly splintered fingers. “im gonna go.. wash up.”

“alright,” y/n smiled as tommy scampered away. she entered into the open kitchen, smiling at her guests. “you boys doing alright?”

they nodded. “when did you take up parenting, y/n?” george giggled. she rolled her eyes as she went to pour her and tommy their own glasses of lemonade. “no, seriously! you care for that kid a lot, it-it’s not a bad thing!”

she sighed, leaning against her counter as she sipped at her lemonade. “i know you two haven’t always agreed with him in the past, but i think tommy’s a good kid. i like his ethic, and i think he has a lot of potential. but that being said..” she shook her head. “he’s so young.” the boys nodded. “he’s been thrown into such a life of chaos and destruction, and im not saying he’s at all innocent, but.. i think it’s good for him to learn that there’s more to this world than just war and enemies. there’s...”

“neutral,” sapnap finished for her. she let out a laugh.

“yeah, neutral,” she agreed, tapping her fingers against her cold glass. “but, yeah, if teaching him peace and self care is motherly of me..” she shrugged. “then i guess im alright with being a parent.”

“that’s sweet,” sapnap nodded. “i hate it.” the three of them laughed, y/n laying a light slap on the man’s arm before tommy’s voice called out to her.

“y/n! can i have some help?”

“im coming!” she called back, setting down her glass of lemonade.

“go help your poor son,” george teased, resting his head in his hand as he gazed at y/n amusedly. she rolled her eyes.

“behave, you two,” she laughed before leaving the kitchen.

there was a moment of silence before george spoke, “i do think it’s quite sweet how y/n’s taken tommy in. i think it’s good for both of them.”

“you say that now,” sapnap sighed, leaning back in his chair. “but just wait until tommy’s back to feeling 100% and y/n’s going around saying “pog” all the time.”

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[technowoah]

if you're taking asks for the prompts, can you do 11 and 17 from the angst list with george but have a fluffy ending? she/her pronouns pls

I Can Make It Right

SHSJS I HAVE SO MUCH ANGST IN MY INBOX YALL!

Thanks for the request babe! The way it came out was gender neutral i dont think I user she/her, but it still works trust me!

George x reader imagine (established)

11) "It's not important apparently"

17) "You already made me feel like shit so might as well finish me off"

⚠︎ angst with happy ending, unresolved issue but they're gonna fix it dont worry 😌, angry George, swearing

*** = flashback

Masterlist

You had stood infront of your bathroom mirror finishing up your makeup for the night. Your hair was already done and you had a nice outfit on, not to fancy and not too comfortable. While listening to a playlist George had made for you, you had put down the brushes you were using. It didnt really matter if you cleaned up your makeup that was littered all over the sink right now, but right now you were feeling good.

Today was your and George's 3rd year anniversary and you couldn't be happier about it. Today you two were going to dinner and doing something else which was supposed to be a surprise for you. It was a night on the town.

George and you met 4 years ago actually. You two started out as acquaintances, the slowly grew into friends and then one day he asked you to join him to dinner. At first you were oblivious to his actions, thinking he was just being a good friend, but turns out the more dates you two went on the more you caught on. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend 3 years ago today.

His friends keep on pressuring George to propose already, they think it's been long enough. The only thing close to marriage is a promise ring. He put the ring on your finger as a promise that one day he would marry you, everytime you doubt that he will propose you turn your attention to the cute ring on your finger.

You had turned off the bedroom lights and sat on your bed finally relaxing after struggling to find a decent enough outfit for tonight. George said that he was going to pick you up around 6:00 and now it is 5:47 so you had some time to spare.

You had found yourself scrolling through tiktok because you had nothing else better to do at this moment. It was a guilty pleasure of yours even though you and george both joked around about hating tiktok.

Time began to tick away so you had checked the clock on your phone which said 5:57 pm. You had grabbed shoes that you set up against your bed, slipped them on and grabbed all of your belongings for the night. You stationed yourself in the living room waiting till George came to the door.

Nervousness always came up before a date, it was the anticipation actually. You were excited and nervous about the date as you always were, but today for you was special. It was three years worth of beautiful love. You remembered the time he first said I love you too, it was just like it was yesterday.

***

"Hey y/n." George looked towards you. You both were sitting on a plaid, plush blanket with a brown woven basket ontop in between you two. It was just like the movies and that why you cringed because of how cheesy it was when George led you to it.

It was sweet, it was extremely sweet and you loved these dates that George always brung you too. You always felt special when you are sitting next to him.

You responded to George. "Yeah Gogy?" You laughed at the use of his nickname.

"Im trying to be serious right now and you call me Gogy." George smiled and shook his head. "Anyways, you know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do-"

"No I love you. I mean. I'm in love with you." George reached to rest his hand ontop of yours and repeated himself. "I'm in live with you y/n."

You wasted no time answering. "Im in love with you too."

***

6:03

George didnt show up yet, but there was no sweat. He was only 3 minutes late, maybe he ran into traffick. Your stomach was rumbling, but you didnt want to eat yet since you two we're planning to go to dinner. Patience is key, and it wasnt like he wasn't late before.

6:10

You started to get worried, it's been 10 minutes and still no sign of your boyfriend. You had gotton up several times to check outside of your door only to be met with no one. Your mind was jumping to conclusions about if he forgot your anniversary, but you shut those thoughts out for the time being.

6:19

Okay this is getting out of hand. You brung out our phone and began to text George, you couldn't believe that you had waited this long before texting the man.

Where are you? Ive been waiting for 29 minutes?!

[Sent: 6:20pm]

George what are you doing?

[Sent: 6:20pm]

You awaited his text message with your phone faced up on the coffee table infront of you. You didn't want to believe that George woukd forget, or overslept, but that was becoming truth the more minutes passed by with no call or text.

6:30

Calling him was useless, because he didn't answer. He didn't hang up on you he just wasn't picking up the phone, like he turned it off. You started to get worried if something happened to him, if he was in a situation where he couldn't call or text you. You wondered if he was safe at home and not out in the middle of the street.

In a flash all your worries subsided when your phone lit up with a notification.

ThisIsNotGeorgeNotFound is live:

Im Playing golf with my friends

That son of a bitch. Pissed off was an understatement, you were fuming. How could he end up streaming at home when you had constantly reminded him about this day, he knew damn well about this day too. How could he?

You ended up grabbing a jacket and your purse and ended up driving to George's place. It seemed like he was mocking you in a way, he knew you had notifications on for Twitch. You loved to support him and his career, but this was making a fool out of yourself.

Your hand tightly gripped the steering wheel as you tried not to run every red light you cane across. You finally came across George's home, you found a place to park and quickly got out of your car and sped walked your way to George's residence. Finally making up to George's door you knocked harshly on the door probably making more noise than what you intended too. You continuously banged on his door until you got fed up.

Remembering that George had given you a key to his house you dig through your purse to get your set of keys out anr unlock his door. You stomped inside his house and closed the door behind you.

"GEORGE! GEORGE!" You yelled through the house. You were being reckless and annoying, but you didnt care at this point you were fuming and needed to tell George how you feel.

You had made your way to George's recording room where he was talking to his friends on discord. George looked towards you in shock clearly not hearing the sounds you were making throughout his house.

"Y/N?!" George yelled and muted his microphone.

"What the hell are you doing?" You exclaimed back.

"Im streaming thats what Im doing!" George sassed back at you, not paying attention to his screen and the chat.

"Dont get smart with me. End the stream."

"What?! No!"

"You heard me, we need to talk." You crossed your arms across your chest. Your heart was beating too fast for your liking and you tried to calm yourself down, but George's comments were getting to you.

George was about to unmute himself and get back to the game. "No we dont-"

"GEORGE END THE FUCKING STREAM! This is embarrassing! Talk to me cause you have some explaining to do." You snapped at him.

A silence tell upon you two and he glared at you before turning to his stream and closing it out.

"Okay guys! Go watch the other boys streams I need to go now! Bye!" George quickly ended and turned off everything.

He turned around to you still sitting in his chair. "What? What do you want?"

"Do you know what today is?" You asked.

"April 30th." George answered bluntly.

"Thats all you have to say?" You asked in shock. "It's our anniversary dickhead!"

"I fucking know that." George said.

"You do? So why did you start streaming and we had dinner plans?!"

"I told you we were streaming! You weren't listening to me!" George stood up from his chair when he said that.

"When the fuck did you tell me this?!"

"A couple days ago! You didn't listen!"

"But you knew that was our anniversary! And we made dinnerr plans-"

George yelled over you. "A month ago! We made those plans a month ago so excuse me for forgetting!"

"So all these other years you remembered our anniversary and went out of your fucking way to cancel other plans around that date, but today you didnt because why?!" Tears were threatening to fall down you cheeks, but you wouldnt let him see you like that.

"Because I planned this already with the boys! And AGAIN you werent listening to me when I said that-"

"There were several other times that you could've told me too! But you didn't!" You sniffed trying to keep the frustrated tears inside.

"I already planned this and I cant go back on my promise-"

"But you can with me?!" You yelled and George stopped talking. He's just studying your face at this point and you hated this silence.

"Its not important apparently." You said while walking out of the recording room.

"You're being a bitch." He mumbled.

"Excuse me?! That is so disrespectful!" You spun around yelled at him.

"You already made me feel like shit so might as well finish me off." George said in a annoying tone.

"Yeah you should feel like shit! I feel like shit too so-!" You threw your hands up in exasperation and stormed out the room. You had made it to the door before George called out to you again.

"Y/n! Y/n! Please!"

"No! Just..." You paused before opening the door and ushering your way out. "Call me when you get your shit together.

You were currently curled up on your couch eating leftovers that you had in the refrigerator. That had satisfied your hunger for the night because the dinner was canceled that night. Your anger and sadness had subsided and you were only left with an unusual feeling in your heart. Your relationship felt incomplete, this fight felt incomplete. You didnt break up with him, but you were waiting for closure.

The TV was the only light in the room. It illuminated what it wanted to, you didnt care if it was too dark. Usually you would be cuddled up with George at this ungoldy hour, but you weren't and that made you tear up.

Your sadness was still there, your anger towards George turned into pity. You were sad about the actions he took, but somewhere in your heart you could forgive him. You could forgive and move on if he would come to you.

Speaking of, you had a knock on your door. You didn't have the strength to get up, but you did. Shuffling your way to the door you sluggishly opened it to find George standing there with his hands in his hoodie. The person you wanted to see, but at the same time you wanted to slam that door in his face.

"Hey." George spoke and you gave him a small smile, nothing more.

You turned around to find your seat back on the couch where you were comfortable, but also giving him a silent invitation to come inside. You had sat down on the couch not paying attention to George, but you knew he closed the door, took off his shoes by yours, and put his keys on the table by the door like he always did. It was like a routine to him.

George ended up awkwardly standing beside the couch as you ignored him.

"You know, if you didnt open the door I would've used my keys like you did." George tried to spark up a conversation, but you only hummed in response. You were scared that if you spoke, you would cry.

George ended up making his way to the couch sitting beside you and pulling you into his embrace. Your head was on his chest and you began to sob. You missed this it's only been a few hours, but you had felt that in those few hours you had lost everything. You continued to sob into his hoodie as he rubbed your back and shushed you, whispering sweet nothings into the air only for you to hear.

"Im here, and Im sorry. Im so fucking sorry that I did this to you and I only hope that you can forgive me." George said, his voice cracking a little when he said that. You kept crying.

That's what you wanted to hear all along, that's what you needed. You could forgive him in due time, you always will because you love him, you will always love him. You both can always make it right.

[red-doll-face]

Hey I love reading your Thomas Hewitt stories and I was wondering if you can write one with Thomas Hewitt being a dom and a little with his female s/o if your comfortable writing it or you can do a Thomas Hewitt and female s/o where they grew up with each other and she had to leave for because of her parents and a couple years later she comes back and surprises him and the family ☺️😅

It’s not that im not up for it I just wasn’t sure if u wanted nsfw or fluff but the second prompt was a bit more clear, if you’re still interested in the first maybe send me a few more details and I’ll see what I can do ! Sorry this took forever to write 🥲

WC: 1285

Warnings; nothing much this is sort of fluffy , mentions of bullying and blood

Thomas B. Hewitt x gn Reader

One and Only

“C’mon, come play with us!” Blonde summer hair bounced around with all of the other girls on the school ground, the other girls with their dresses and bobby socks. Your mother, a dutiful teacher at the school made you wear clothes that seemed to fit right in with them but no matter what she dressed you in, you never were enthusiastic about playing with them.

“Yeah, leave the dumb ugly boy crying in the ditch.” They laughed, cruelly. Your brows furrowed.

“But he’s bleeding.” You mutter and they boo you and blow raspberries at you.

“Who cares, he’s so ugly,” They chitter and some become uninterested enough to wander away. Your heart bleeds like he does as you begin to climb into the ditch he was tossed in. This was the worst anyone had ever done to poor Tommy B. Hewitt. His face was scarred and flaky, thus the target of every person with a mean bone in their body. Girls and boys would poke at him. Prod him like a circus attraction.

“Tommy? Where’s your mama?” He sobs in the ditch, blood from tumbling over sharp things dripping down the tan skin of his arm. Your pressed white shirt has a brown smudge on it already. He never answers that question. You don't say anything either for a moment, watching him heave. You try to help him up but he’s too heavy for you to carry up the steep slope. He must have dirt all over his face. Dirt all over your shoes. You frown and look at the ridge of the hole you're in. His mama’ll never see him from up there. He might never go home. You couldn't imagine him laying in the ditch behind the schoolyard all night, his poor mama crying out for him and he none the wiser. Sleeping in the dirt. You know what his mama looks like. So, you wait on top of the ridge. Eventually, Tommy’s mama comes around.

“You seen my son, child?”

“Yes, Ms.Hewitt. He’s in there. The older boys beat him and pushed him in. Can’t get him out anyhow. I tried.” You point towards the boy. Small for someone so big for his age. His papa must be the size of Mt. Rushmore. The woman gasps and stumbles down the incline.

“You rotten things! My baby down here bleedin’!” She helps her son to stand and you finally see his face. It is indeed covered in dirt and tears. The red scarring raises over the lower half of his face. Tommy sees you looking and he chokes back a sob, letting his head bow to face the ground. His mama can’t quite get him out either so you help her tug him up. His ankle might have gotten hurt. The woman, though judging you as one of the children who tormented her son, thanks you.

“You do this to my son?” She glares down at you and you shake your head.

“Good.”

Tommy’s family has a plantation a few miles away from the town and many a mile away from the slaughterhouse. You and your mama live in the area. Mama sometimes goes down to give Luda Mae, Tommy’s mama, some books for Tommy. She won’t let him go to school no more seeing as how they nearly broke her son's leg. You go down with her, no one to look after you at the house. You hide behind her skirt but she shoos you away to go play with Tommy. She and Ms. Luda Mae talk about tea and rancher’s gossip. Tommy’s in the parlor. Bits of fabric and a tin full of needles sit on the floor with him. You tilt your head.

“What’re you doing?” You speak and he startles. He looks like he might cry again and you're not sure what to do. You watch as he shrinks in on himself. You kneel down next to him, picking up a thread he had cut and a needle.

“Need help threading it?” He fumbles and snatches the items. He tries to show you he can do it, quickly becoming frustrated. He hadn’t the tact for it but it could be learned.

“Here,” you show him your trick, placing the bristled thread between your lips for a second, then slipping it easily in the eye. You pull it out and tell him to try. He slowly copies your actions and you smile.

You remember the Hewitt boy fondly. You remember him when he was his happiest. Unfortunately, your mother couldn't afford to live in the town anymore after her work dried up and the water followed behind. She had found a job in Dallas, as her child you went where she did. You were sad that you had to leave poor Tommy B. Hewitt behind, you knew you were the only friend he ever had.

Now, you live in Dallas, looking after your mother. She teaches kids piano and you work in the city. Your mother one day mentions the quaint country house you used to live in and you decide to go see if it's still standing. Driving down the dusty roads brings back memories of simpler days. You remember, suddenly the sullen face of Tommy too. He had been so sad to see you drive away. You waved at him.

The plantation house is still there. A lot dingier and darker than you could recall. You fear for a moment that it's abandoned but there are signs of life. You carefully walk up to the porch, knowing Tommy’s uncle had set traps to catch varmint all of the time. You make it and knock. The weathered face of Ms. Luda Mae answers, looking surprised and then her face sours.

“If it ain't the city slicker.” She furrows her brow, glasses on beads pulled up to rest on the tip of her nose.

“Hi Ms. Luda Mae. How’ve you been?” You try to be friendly but she appears to be resistant to your smile and warm tone.

“Fine, just fine. You?” It’s southern politeness, she doesn't seem an ounce interested.

“Good, I haven't been down here since-”

“Since you left. Broke my only son’s heart, you did.” You frown. You hadn’t meant to but you won't fill your mouth with excuses. She knows why you left.

“Tommy’s still around?”

“Yup. I’m not sure he’ll want to see you. I’ll call him over anyway.” She closes the door a moment and shuffles off into her house. You stand patiently, waiting. Lumbering footsteps approach the door and stop. Nervous maybe. You don’t call out to him, soon the creak of the door assures you he does want to see you.

“Hi Tom-” He picks you up and hoists you in a hug. You gasp, his arms tightening around your middle. He’s grown up now, you can tell. He’s tall and built like a brick house. He places you down after a moment, hands on your shoulders as if to make sure you’re real. To make sure you’ll stay. He has a mask on to cover a face you’ve already seen.

“Tommy B. Hewitt, do you remember me?” He nods and looks down on you with those familiar brown eyes.

“Your mama said I broke your heart. That true?” He averts his eyes in embarrassment. Looking rather sheepish for a man the size of a bull. He doesn't indicate any form of yes. You comfort him anyway.

“I’m sorry Tommy. Wasn't a thing I could do. Do you forgive me?” He nods after a moment.

“Fill me in on what’s happening round here?” He nods again, eagerly gripping your hand in his own, tugging you inside of the old plantation house..

This one isn’t very exciting and is sort of long but I hope u like it ! Thanks for the req ! 😳🥰

[thegreatestofheck]

dark of the night [A. Hotchner]

word count – 25,555 (its so long im so sorry) warnings - a lot, blood, torture, mentions (but no descriptions) of sexual assault/rape, murder, canon violence stuff, this is essentially a hurt/comfort fic so expect a lot of hurt to come before the comfort, also a slow burn. synopsis - an agent gets taken in the middle of an investigation. in a race against time, the team at the bau must find her by diving into her deepest secrets. when a video tape arrives with horrible images of the state of their friends, aaron hotchner realizes just how terrified he is of losing her.  tagging: @magicalbluepanther (i hope you don’t mind the tag lol) a/n – did anyone order an extra long aaron hotchner slow burn? Because here you’ve got one. so my mental health is declining again and that means I have to write a criminal minds one shot that involves a lot of hurt/comfort. also I gave y/n a name because i don’t really like y/l/n or anything, but you’re more than welcome to replace it with your own! please dont be mad at me. anyway, stay happy, healthy, safe, and groovy!

The moment Agent Hotchner realized that she wasn’t coming back, his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. It had happened once before, this feeling, the day he was in his car and he got that call from Foyet and heard Hayley’s muffled sobbing over the phone. Panic settled into his bones, unable to shake it away even as the terrified eyes of the rest of the team looked his way. 

“Did we just lose her?” Emily Prentiss asked, her words wavering ever so slightly as she tried to keep herself calm. 

At the sound of her voice, Hotch finally found himself able to look around the room. 

Morgan had shifted his eyes back to the door that his friend was supposed to come through. Reid stared at Hotch, wide eyed, lips parted. JJ was chewing on her thumb nail, waiting for Hotch to do something, say something. Emily was looking between the door and Hotch. Rossi was standing behind him, so he couldn’t see the look on his face, but Hotch couldn’t imagine he looked any different than the rest of his team. 

Agent Evelyn Caro had walked into the meeting, undercover, in hopes of baiting a serial killer into a quick and easy arrest. After three years of horrific killings, the BAU team was so close to catching him and Agent Caro was more than willing to be the one to take him down. 

Hotch knew this particular case was a sore spot for Caro, as all torture/murder cases were. But during this entire case, she had been far more on edge and far more eager to tear their suspect to shreds. He shouldn’t have let her go to the meeting, he knew it was too personal for her, even if she had never told him why. 

She had refused to take in a ear piece, said that the stories that would be told at the meeting were personal and their privacy was to be respected. Hotch trusted her. He agreed. They all stood outside and waited. The meeting should have been only two hours, Caro promised that she would be back with the suspect in less than three hours. 

But it had now been three hours and almost thirty minutes. The door hadn’t opened a single time since the last of the members of the meeting left, all except Caro and the suspect. 

She fit his physical appearance preference and possessed the confidence he appeared to have deep hatred for. It should have been an easy job. 

“What went wrong?” Hotch murmured out loud, more to himself. 

His words seemed to trigger something in Morgan, who pushed open the van door and unholestered his weapon before anybody could stop him. 

“Morgan!” Rossi yelled after him, but there was no slowing down, and once Morgan was running toward the meeting building, Emily and Reid were on his tail. 

“Hotch, what do we do?” JJ asked, turning toward him as Rossi hopped out of the car to go after his peers. 

Hotch ran through every single protocol that he knew like the back of his hand. They flitted through his brain like smoke, a flurry of useless words and numbers that meant nothing to him. Not a single one told him how to deal with this. Tightness squeezed at his chest as the rules and regulations he clung so tightly to began to fail him once again. 

“We find her.” 

Gun drawn, Hotch entered the building with JJ on his tail. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his composure about him. The same couldn’t be said for some of the others. 

“Evie!” Morgan called out, kicking down a door. 

“Evelyn?” Rossi’s voice echoed through elementary school. 

Hotch was seconds away from calling out her name himself, but he kept his jaw clenched tight. JJ followed every move he made. If he lost himself now, so would JJ. He needed at least one person on his side whose head was still level. 

They scoured the entire grounds, but they could find nothing. The room where the meeting had taken place was empty. Not even the leader was there anymore. This dark room was where the team met up after searching every inch of the grounds. 

There was silence for an eternity as they passed glances between each other, wordlessly asking if anyone had found anything. 

“There’s not even a footprint,” Morgan said helplessly, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. 

“I didn’t hear her scream.” JJ’s voice was weak and her eyes downcast. 

“None of us did,” Rossi replied. 

“We have to find her quickly,” Hotch said, finally trusting himself enough to speak. “He only keeps his victims for five days and if he knows she’s FBI, it’s probably less than that.” 

“I’ll call Garcia, track Evie’s phone,” Morgan said, pulling out his phone and turning away from the group. 

“We start from the ground up,” Hotch instructed. “Right now, Agent Caro isn’t our coworker but a victim and we have to treat her as such if we want to find her. Dig into her life, figure out what connects her to the other victims. Did he take her because she’s FBI or because she’s connected to the others. Morgan?”

“Her phone’s off,” Morgan said, pulling the phone away from his ear. 

“Tell Garcia to look for a connection between all of the victims. Dig and dig deep. Hold nothing back.”

Morgan paused for a moment. They all remembered when they had to do this very thing to him, when he was a suspect all those years ago. He knew what it was like to have his friends digging into a personal life he long wanted buried, how they looked at him differently after they knew, even if they didn’t mean to. He didn’t understand then, that they were trying to help, but he did now. There was no time to hesitate. This was Evelyn they were talking about. 

“Garcia, give me everything on Evelyn Caro that you can find. Dig deep. She needs us,” Morgan said. 

“Got it.” 

“Call me when you get anything.” 

“Yup.” 

She ended the call and Morgan turned back to the team. 

“Garcia’s on it.” 

“Okay, then we need to get back to the station and look at everything again. We have a name. We know it’s him. We just need to find them.” Hotch turned away from the team and started for the exit. “No one goes home until we find her.” 

___

Hotch meant what he said, but no one needed to be told twice. Red rimmed eyes scanned the same files over and over and over again as they waited for any amount of information from Garcia. 

“There has to be something here,” Morgan said with a frustrated sigh. “Something we’re missing.” 

“Why did he take her?” JJ asked as she set down her file. The woman rubbed her eyes before crossing her arms and looking up at the rest of the room. “I mean, what changed in that room that made him want her?”

“He found out she was FBI?” Reid suggested, leaning back in his chair. 

“How though?” Rossi piped in from his position leaning up against the wall. “Caro isn’t dumb enough to reveal herself, we were careful.” 

“She must have said something in that meeting that convinced him that she was a good target,” Hotch said. He could feel all eyes on him as he watched the ground, unable to meet any of their gazes. “Maybe this is how he finds his victims. At these group meetings.” 

“So we sent Evie into a death trap.” Morgan shoved his chair away from the table and stood, hands on his hips as he breathed heavily. 

“We have to figure out what connects her to the other victims,” Emily said. “Just like any other case.” 

“But this isn’t any other case is it?” 

“Morgan-” 

“This is Evelyn we’re talking about!” 

“Morgan, I need you to calm down,” Hotch said, standing from his place. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Hotch.” Morgan trembled with rage, his eyes glazed over with water. “You can’t expect me to sit here and-” 

“I expect you to do your job, Agent Morgan, seeing as that is the only thing that will get Caro back home.” Hotch struggled to keep his voice low. He curled his fists so the others couldn’t see how badly his hands were shaking. 

“You think we’ll get her back?” 

“If you do your job.” 

Morgan breathed in deeply and nodded his head. Before he sat back down, Morgan put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. The kid had his hand covering his mouth, his eyes glazed over like Morgan’s had been. 

Hotch knew how close Morgan and Caro were. Ever since she signed on to the team, the two had been nearly inseparable. Hotch wondered if it was something he needed to discuss with them. Every time that he seriously considered it, he had to question his motivations. Was it to keep complications out of their team or was it something else, something he wasn’t ready to admit? 

Turning his eyes away from Reid and Morgan, Hotch opened his mouth to address the team when Garcia stepped into the open doorway. They all turned to look at her only to see that her cheeks were streaked with tears as she clutched a file in her hands. 

“Garcia, what is it?” Emily stood and walked toward her, a hand out open for her. 

“You...you told me to dig deep so I did,” she stammered. “I...I did and I found...oh, God.” 

“Come in,” Hotch said, trying to smooth the furrow in his brows. 

Garcia took Emily’s hand and shuffled into the briefing room, sniffling through her tears. 

“Our poor baby girl,” Garcia said, setting the file gently onto the round table as if it was fragile. “She never told us-” 

“Garcia.” 

Garcia cleared her throat and nodded her head, flipping the file open. The team crowded around the table. Staring up at them was a picture of a young girl, her face purpled and bloody. Morgan clenched his jaw, Reid turned his face away from the picture. 

“Is that Caro?” JJ asked, her hand hovering over her mouth. 

Hotch had seen this picture before, attached to the file so covered in black redacted lines that he barely gleaned anything from it. But there were no more black lines. Everything about Agent Caro was there for him to read. Her life was an open book for him. This was his job, the only way to get her back, so why did he feel so dirty doing it? 

“When Evie-”

“Evelyn,” Hotch corrected. “She can’t be our friend right now.”

Garcia nodded, her eyes still glassy. 

“When Evelyn Caro was 12 years old, she was kidnapped from her front lawn. She was held captive by her...by her uncle for four years. He did...he did horrible things to her...I’m sorry-” 

Garcia choked, turning away from the file. Morgan put his hand on Garcia’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“She was held by her uncle,” Hotch continued, eyes scanning the page, when it was clear that Garcia wouldn’t be able to. “There were clear signs of r-pe and physical violence, even though she never spoke about it afterward.” 

“She was held captive by her uncle?” Morgan asked. “How did no one know it was him?”

“Police talked to everyone in the family,” Garcia said, turning back into the conversation. “He was never on their serious list of suspects.” 

“How did she get out?” Rossi asked from his place near the back of the crowd.

“She broke out,” Garcia said, her voice like iron even as her lower lip trembled. “She stabbed that son of a bitch the moment she got the chance and she ran until someone found her.” 

“She killed him?” JJ asked. 

Hotch let out a heavy sigh. Something like pride blossomed in his chest. Maybe it was vindication. He would have killed the bastard himself. 

“Why wouldn’t she tell us?” Reid asked, looking up at Hotch like a lost dog. 

“We all have secrets we’ve kept from each other,” Hotch told him, even though he was wondering the same thing. “Now we need to figure out if this is somehow related to why he took her.” 

There was a moment of silence hanging over the room. 

“Garcia, look into the lives of the other women again,” he continued. “See if there is any kind of connection.” 

“I’m on it.”

There was a new kind of determination in her voice, like a fire was lit underneath her.

“Videos of the other victims were sent to the families of the victims,” Hotch said, looking back at the rest of the team. “JJ, contact her brother, see if he’s received anything and tell him to contact us as soon as he is.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about the rest of us?” 

Once again, all eyes were on Hotch, expecting him to have all of the answers. But he didn’t. He didn’t know anything. 

“Do your jobs.”

___

When the video was sent to her family, it wasn’t her estranged brother who received it. 

“Hotch.” Morgan’s voice was shaking as he picked up the yellow envelope on his desk. “Hotch!” 

As soon as Hotch saw the package he knew what had to be in it. He had seen four of them before all from the previous victims’ families. His heart constricted in his chest. He knew what they were about to watch. Their team member, their friend. 

Grinding his teeth together to keep his face straight, Hotch took the package from Morgan and started back for the briefing room. 

“Do you want me to round up the team?” Morgan asked. 

“You guys shouldn’t have to watch this,” Hotch told him. 

“You’re not watching it alone.” 

Without another word, Morgan went to collect the others. 

Once they were all in the briefing room, Garcia put the recording onto the big screen. 

“You don’t-” 

“We’re staying,” JJ said, her fingers laced with Emily’s. 

Hotch nodded once before looking over at Garcia and signaling her to start the video. 

As soon as Garcia hit the play button, Morgan put an arm around her shoulder and she put a hand up to her mouth. Hotch leaned against a chair, his knuckles going white. 

The screen was black for a few moments. When it turned on, Agent Evelyn Caro was sitting half naked on a cot. Bruises littered her body, her ribs on the left side blackened. A cut ran across a purple cheek with dried blood running down her face. One of her eyes was black. But Caro stared straight ahead of her, eyes made of steal. 

“Oh, baby,” Garcia breathed. 

The room was small, bland. It looked cold. 

A man stepped into the frame. Caro didn’t even look at him, she just kept staring straight ahead. Before he even said anything, he raised a hand and slapped her across the face. Reid flinched, but none of them turned away. Their attention needed to be on this video, gleaning as much information as they could to get her home. Hotch refused to let her suffering go to waste. He would watch every second of it, no matter how much his stomach burned with hatred. 

Caro barely reacted to the backhand, her head snapping to the side, but the rest of her body stayed in the same place, her hands clasped together in her lap. When she straightened her head, blood trickled down from her lip. She lifted a hand to wipe the blood away before looking up at the man. Her eyes carried the heat of a thousand suns as she looked at her assailant, almost as if daring him to touch her again. That was the Caro that Hotch knew. She would never back down, never give in. 

“What do you want?” She asked. 

Hearing her voice so raw sent a chill down Hotch’s spine. Everything about this was wrong. 

“I know what happened to you when you were young,” the man said, walking in front of her. 

Caro clenched her jaw and turned her face forward once again, seeming to pretend that he wasn’t there. 

“Does this feel familiar to you?” the man asked, spinning in a circle. “The room, the bed, the chain.” 

Hotch’s eyes shifted away from Caro and he looked more at the bed. There was indeed a chain attached to the metal of the bed frame. Caro’s jaw tightened again and Hotch watched as she ran a finger over a scar he had seen on her wrist a million times before but never asked her about. He could only imagine a young Agent Caro, chained to a bed. She carried that scar around with her and he had never even cared enough to ask her about it. 

“It’s exactly the same,” Caro said.

The man sat next to her and still Caro didn’t flinch. Not even her breathing changed. Amidst his anger and his fear, Hotch felt pride. Damn right she would not even acknowledge him. Hotch expected nothing less from her. Though he wouldn’t fault her if she did. 

The Unsub put his hand on her knee and Hotch’s eyes went red. His ears rang, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He watched Caro look down at the Unsub’s hand and Hotch noticed a slight tremble in her body. Her shaking was rage, not fear. He knew her well enough to know that. 

“What do you want?” The tremor reached her voice. Hotch could see her holding back from killing the unsub then and there. Her restraint told him that her captor was the only way out of her room. If she killed him now, she would be trapped. 

The unsub sighed and tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on the ground. 

“I want to break you,” he said.

Hotch clenched his jaw, but still Caro’s face stayed straight. She didn’t even blink. The words ‘I dare you to try’ never even passed her lips, but it was a clear challenge in her eyes. 

The image cut and Hotch almost thought that was going to be the end. But then it suddenly clicked on. Caro was slowly sitting up from laying on the bed. The unsub was halfway in the frame, buckling his belt. Hotch heard a quiet ‘oh’ come from Garcia and when he glanced over at her, he noticed tears in Morgan’s eyes. 

Caro seemed stiff as she sat up. The chain that had before been only attached to the bed was now shackled to her wrist. Hotch watched her grimace as she moved her feet to the ground. Her toes curled, telling Hotch that the ground was cold. The entire room must have been freezing. 

A silence hung over the team as they waited for something to happen. 

“You’re tough, I’ll give you that,” the unsub said. Caro refused to look at him. “The other girls gave in at this point.” 

“And then you killed them.” Caro looked over at him, moving slowly and clearly despite the pain that was obvious settling into her bones. 

The unsub shrugged his shoulders, a proud smile on his face. 

“Some girls seem to think that death is better than what I did to them,” he said. “But maybe you kind of like it.” 

Caro pulled harshly against her chain, shutting her eyes and turning her face away from him. 

“Son of a bitch,” Rossi breathed. Hotch refrained from looking back at him. 

“How does she not strangle him?” JJ asked. Her words were tight from the swelling in her throat. 

“He’s her only way out of that room,” Hotch told her. “She kills him and she starves in there.” 

“Not if we find her.” 

They fell quiet again, just soon enough to hear a low rumble of a laugh from the man. 

“I see I struck a nerve.” The unsub said. 

Caro steadied her breathing and straightened her shoulders. 

“I’m not surprised you’ve lasted longer than the other girls, being an FBI agent and all. I wonder how your friends are doing.” 

Caro pulled against the chain again, her eyes squeezing tighter. 

“Ah, another nerve. Should we poke at that one a bit more?” 

The unsub stepped out of the frame. For the briefest moment, with his back turned on her, Caro’s eyes flicked toward the camera. 

“She knows it’s there,” Reid said. “She knows about the camera.” 

Caro sucked in a deep breath and gave a short nod of her head. She knew her taker’s MO. She knew about the videos and the envelope. She knew they were watching her, and she was telling them that she was okay. 

When the unsub walked back into frame, he was holding something in his hands. With his back to the camera, they couldn’t get a good look at what he was holding.

“I am aware that your brother is the only remaining relative of yours who will speak to you, is that correct?” The unsub said.

Caro breathed deeply in once, her eyes staring straight through the unsub.

“This is him and his wife, their two daughters. Beautiful family. When was the last time you spoke to them?”

Agent Caro’s eyes moved from the unsub to the object in his hand and her eyes immediately welled up with tears. The unsub clicked his tongue.

“It’s the shame, isn’t it? It eats you up inside. You can’t bear the thought of tainting your brother and his perfect family with your past.”

She closed her eyes and turned her face away.

“This is Penelope Garcia, yes?”

Garcia straightened her back, surprised at hearing her name.

Caro opened her eyes and Hotch noticed a drastic shift in her breathing. Once steady and calm, her chest now rose and fell at an uneven pace. Her eyes darted between whatever the unsub was holding and his face.

“Jennifer Jareau?”

The unsub tossed something onto the bed next to Caro. And then another.

“David Rossi?”

For the first time, Caro flinched as he flicked what Hotch was starting to realize was a picture in her direction.

“Emily Prentiss. Spencer Reid.”

Two more pictures were thrown at her and Caro flinched twice more.

“Derek Morgan.”

A fire lit in Caro’s eyes as she stared up at him again.

“Aaron Hotchner.”

Before he could even throw the picture her way, Caro jumped up from the bed and charged at him, pulling on the chair.

“If you touch them, I swear I’ll kill you,” she seethed.

The unsub shoved her backward onto the bed, but she scrambled up again. He hit her across the face, sending her back with a yelp. Breathing heavily, she turned to look at him, like a rabid dog.

“That’s a hard promise to make seeing as you are chained to a bed and I am not.”

“She has to know that he can’t hurt us,” Emily said, looking to Hotch for answers.

“She’s panicking,” Hotch replied. His knuckles tightened over the chairs.

“You think I won’t go after them?” the unsub said as he dropped a hand onto her shoulder.

Caro turned her face away from him and shook her head.

“You can’t,” she said. Her voice was growing weak, shaking more. “They’re FBI, you can’t just-“

She didn’t get the chance to finish before the unsub threw a fist across her face.

“I won’t even have to hurt them though, will I?” The unsub sneered, bending down close to her face. “I bet by now they know every dark secret about your past. Every skeleton in your closet. They know about the blood on your hands.”

Hotch had read her file that Garcia dug up a thousand times over in the last few days since she found it. Something in him told him he had to, though another part of him wanted to wait until Caro was there to tell him herself. But she deserved better than for her story to go unknown. She deserved to have someone know.

“No,” Caro whimpered.

“You really think they’ll accept you after that?” The unsub let out a laugh.

“Evie, we love you,” Garcia said as she took a step forward. “Evie-“

“Garcia, quiet,” Hotch said, putting out a hand.

“Sir, she has to know, she has to know.”

Morgan put his arm back around Garcia and pulled her in for a hug.

“She knows,” he whispered to her.

“You lost your family once because of what you did to your uncle,” the unsub said. “Now you’ll lose another.”

“No!”

Caro threw herself at the unsub once again, her fists flying. Hotch had seen her fight before. She was well trained, and she was calculated, confident. But this was animalistic. This was pure instinct. Her punches were weak and light, hitting the places of the unsub where very little damage would be done. The chain prevented any real effort from her, though the bed shook and rattled as she yanked against the metal. It didn’t take him long to wrestle her onto the bed, pinning her down by her arms.

Her face was clearly displayed to the camera. She breathed sporadically, panting and gasping for air. Sweat beaded down her battered face. Her eyes were wide and flitting back and forth, terrified.

“How would you feel if I paid one of them a visit, huh?” The unsub asked, his nose brushing against her cheek.

Caro struggled, a growl of frustration strangled in her sore throat.

“That Spencer Reid lives alone, doesn’t he?”

Rossi put a hand on Reid’s shoulder, who had suddenly gone pale.

“Don’t touch him!” She thrashed again, trying to throw the unsub off of her. She tried to kick her feet, but they were effectively pinned under her by the weight of the unsub. She grunted and groaned in the effort it took to try and get him off of her.

“I doubt it would take much to strangle that skinny neck of his.”

Caro suddenly stopped struggled. The sweat that pooled down her cheeks suddenly started to look more like tears as her body went still.

“Please don’t hurt them,” she said, her voice quiet.

“What, you don’t want me creeping into Emily’s apartment tonight, pay her a little visit?”

Caro let out a quiet sound, something that was almost like a sob.

“Please.”

“What will you do for me in return?” He asked, pressing still closer to her face.

Caro rolled her head back and forth on the bed and Hotch could see the tears that pooled in her eyes.

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

She just nodded her head, lower lip quavering.

“Don’t give up, baby girl,” Morgan whispered. Garcia clung tighter to his hand.

“Well, well,” the unsub said with a sigh as he sat up, releasing Caro from his hold. Her body sagged even further into the cot. He stepped away from the cot and bent down to pick up some of the pictures that fell to the floor. “There isn’t really anything I want from you just now, so I might go and visit one of your friends just to keep you on your toes.”

“No!” Caro leapt from the bed and attached herself to the unsub’s back.

He threw her against back against the cot. Hotch could see him lift his hand to deliver hit after hit to his agent, but he was grateful that the unsub’s back blocked the view of the camera. He didn’t think he could stand to watch her get beaten.

Caro was surprisingly silent as the unsub hit her.

It was over relatively quickly. The unsub straightened himself out, squaring his shoulders. Without a word, he turned to the camera and walked toward it. Caro let out a quiet groan just before the unsub picked up the camera and shut it off.

There was a heavy silence that fell over the team.

“What the hell did we just watch?” Emily asked, setting her eyes on Hotch.

They were once again expecting him to have all the answers, but he had nothing to say. His hands were cramping from how hard he was clenching onto the chair. It took all the strength in him not to throw it across the room. Caro should be here with them, not in that room, not with that man.

“Garcia, can you play the end again and turn up the volume?” Rossi asked.

“No offense, sir,” Garcia said, teary eyed. “But I can’t watch that again.”

“Just the very end, as he’s walking toward the camera. Agent Caro said something.”

“Did she?” JJ asked, crossing her arms.

Garcia pressed a few buttons on her laptop and the video returned. Hotch was almost tempted to look away. The audio was louder as the unsub heaved out an exhausted sigh and started walking toward the camera. And then they heard it, the quiet groan. But it wasn’t a groan at all. She had said something, just a quiet name.

His name.

Aaron.

___

Sitting at his desk, Hotch couldn’t seem to lift his heavy head from his hands. The window, which was almost always closed, was wide open. His office was too stuffy, too hot. He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t get the sound of his name from her lips out of his head.

A knock came to his door and he finally lifted his head. Rossi was standing there with his usual “something is wrong and I’m going to fix it” face. Hotch wasn’t sure if he was in the mood for this conversation.

“What can I do for you, David?”

“We have to talk about what just happened,” Rossi said.

“I don’t really think-“

“Aaron, listen to me,” Rossi said, walking into the room. “Evelyn needs you right now.”

“There’s nothing I can do that the team isn’t already doing.”

“She said your name.”

“I know that. You think I don’t know that?” Hotch’s tone was a little sharper than he meant it to be. He let out a sigh and stretched out his fingers.

Rossi sat down across from him.

“Why? We all know that she’s closest with Morgan, so why say your name?” Rossi asked. Hotch squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. The exhaustion headache that was plaguing him wasn’t helping the fact that thinking about who Caro was and wasn’t closest with lit a fire in his gut. “And why your first name? She only ever called you Hotch, like the rest of us.”

“That’s not true,” Hotch said, memorizing the lines on his hands so he wouldn’t have to look at Rossi.

“What isn’t?”

“She’s called me Aaron.”

“When?”

“When she was angry with me,” Hotch said. The thought of it pained him. He could hear her sharp tone, the way she hissed his name like venom. When she thought he was too cold, too apathetic.

“Or….”

“Or what?”

There was another time when she called him Aaron. Three other times.

On the worst day of his life, when he held Hayley’s body in his arms, Caro had sat next to him on the floor. People were calling his name. “Hotch, Hotch, Hotchner.”

She sat there on the ground and whispered his name just once, “Aaron.” It was quiet, like a pin dropping during a storm. But still he heard her.

“Aaron, your son,” she said.

That decision, to stay with Hayley or go find Jack, tore his soul into pieces until she spoke again.

“I’ll stay with her.”

The second time was a few weeks after Hayley’s death. Hotch wasn’t handling it well, or at all. She saw right through the façade that he had put forward. He was at the office late one night and so was she. Even when he tried to send her home, she politely refused, saying there was a lot of work she needed to get done.

He spent hours in his office, the grief and the sorrow and the shame building and building and building until he was suddenly standing over his desk. Everything here reminded him of Hayley. The baseball, the picture of Jack, even the piles of papers that were stacked high, shaming him for not being there for her more.

The only way to keep himself from crying was to let the anger take over. Anger at Foyet, anger at the job, anger at the world, anger at himself. Forgetting where he was, Hotch had dumped everything off of his desk with one sweep of his arm.

Collapsing to the ground, Hotch didn’t remember how long he sat there, leaning against his desk, hyperventilating, until Caro walked in. She didn’t say anything to him. She just lowered herself to the ground next to him, letting out a long sigh. She just sat there, breathing louder than Hotch was used to her breathing, but he found after a few minutes that his breathing began to match hers. A calmness returned to his body, at least enough to breathe normally.

“Aaron?”

He turned to look at her, the edges of his eyes lined with red.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Hotch nodded his head. He pushed himself to his feet before helping Caro to hers.

“I’ll drive,” she said, stepping around all of the things on the ground.

“What about-“

“We’ll deal with it tomorrow,” Caro had said. “Come on.”

She talked to him all the way back to the car. She asked if he wanted to talk about what made him dump all of his stuff on the ground. When he said no, she asked him about Jack instead. It felt comfortable to talk to her about his son, even though he tried to keep personal life and business separated. He had never really talked to her about anything other than work, except for the times when the team would go out to eat, back when Hayley would come with them. She would talk about her brother, his family, but very vaguely.

Now he supposed he knew why she was always so vague.

The third time she called him Aaron, they were on a case. Young girls being kidnapped, assaulted, and dumped. This was one of many cases just like it. Hotch couldn’t even remember what town they were in now. All he remembered was walking by Caro’s hotel room and feeling like he needed to go inside. Something pulled him to a stop outside her door that night and he couldn’t ignore it.

He knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a respond before he opened in.

Caro was still up, even though they had left hours ago. She had skipped the meal they all shared together, which was unlike her. She sat at her desk, the lamp on but not the overhead light. The case that they were working was laid out in front of her. When she looked up at him, startled that he had come in, her eyes were red and he couldn’t tell if it was all of the reading or if it was something else.

“What can I do for you, Hotch?” Caro asked, one of her legs propped up on the swivel chair.

“I….” He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. “….wanted to check on you, see how you were doing.”

Caro’s lips pulled into an amused smile.

“You never check on me.”

“Maybe now’s the time to start.”

They were quiet for a few moments until Caro let out a sigh. She patted the bed, signaling for him to sit.

“These cases, the ones with the young girls, they’re hard,” Caro told him after he sat down.

Hotch felt like a foreigner sitting there and talking to her, awkward as he sat on her bed, like it shouldn’t be him here doing this. But she seemed so eager to talk, like she was just waiting for someone to ask.

“I understand,” Hotch said finally, looking at the carpet. “They’re hard on all of us.”

“Aaron.”

At the sound of his name, he looked back at her and he could see the tears in her eyes. He didn’t realize it then, but she had been begging him to understand so she didn’t have to say. She didn’t want to have to say it.

He couldn’t sleep that night and he didn’t know why.

“She called you Aaron when she was mad at you or….” Rossi’s voice pulled him back to the present.

“Or she needs me to listen.”

“So, what does she need you to hear?”

___

“He knows her,” Hotch said suddenly, startling the life out of the half sleeping agents.

“What?” Morgan asked, sitting up.

“The unsub knows her. There is no way that he learned all of this about her at the meeting they went to. No way he could have replicated the room that she was kept in when she was a child unless he had personal information.”

“He knew everything about her…and us…before he even took her,” Rossi said, his voice laced with awe. “Which means….”

“All those other murders were about getting her here.” Hotch felt his heart restrict in his chest. “This has all been about her. She was the piece we were missing.”

“Sir?” Garcia hurried into the room, meaning she had found something. “The link between all the victims, I think I found it.”

The team turned toward her.

“Evie is the link.” Garcia swiped up on her laptop, a couple different screens popping up on the big screen. “Sarah Jordans went to kindergarten with Evie. Paulette Bobin was the daughter of the police officer who found Evie after she escaped her uncle. Robin Everard was her high school drama teacher’s niece. Celia Hough was the sister of a woman she walked dogs for in middle school. They weren’t close enough to Evie for her to recognize them, but they were all a part of her life in some way.”

Hotch looked over at Rossi and shook his head.

“It’s been about Caro all along. All of it.”

“That means that the place she’s being held is about her too,” Morgan said. “More than just making the room look the same. He’s holding her somewhere that means something to her.”

“Garcia,” Hotch said, turning his attention back to the tech analyst. “Who owns the uncle’s house now?”

“You think he took her back there?”

“She said the room looked exactly the same. Maybe because it was the same.”

“The house passed onto his wife’s son when he died,” Garcia said.

“Where is the son now?”

“He is….” They all watched her carefully, waiting for the last piece of information. “…. He changed his name just after his father’s funeral to….”

Hotch turned back to the screen, where the picture of the unsub was plastered so none of them would forget it.

“Ralph Bennet,” Morgan said, venom in his words. “The unsub.”

“How did she not recognize her own cousin?”

“His father and mother got divorced when he was young. He didn’t even know he had a step-dad who was still alive until he was dead,” Garcia said.

“So, Ralph Bennet was the step-son of Caro’s uncle. He feels like he has to punish her for taking another father figure away from him,” added Reid.

“He wants her to pay. He wants to hurt her in any way possible.”

“He’s got her at her old house.”

___

Evelyn could barely see. Her eyes were weak and tired, partially from the crying and partially from the lack of sleep. She was terrified of letting her eyes shut, of letting her guard down. She needed to stay awake, to keep her guard up. But she couldn’t take her eyes away from the red stain on the floor.

The cot mattress was itching her skin. If she could ignore the itching, she would begin to feel the sting of the metal chain against her skin. She preferred the itching.

A thud from downstairs echoed to her room. The attic. Pretending like this wasn’t that room she had been kept in for all those years was the only thing that was keeping her from breaking down, but that wall between what she pretended was real and reality was growing thin.

Breathing in through her nose, Evelyn shut her eyes and imagined herself back in her apartment, safe and warm. In her hands was a cup of tea, chamomile with only one sprinkling of sugar. It was raining outside. Not too hard, but hard enough that she could hear it pattering against the window. Her dog slept at her feet, breathing softly. In her lap was-

Another thud from downstairs, tearing Evelyn from her fantasy. She opened her eyes and looked toward the door.

“Ralph?” She called out, voice hoarse. There was no response.

When the door burst open suddenly, Evelyn yelped and jumped backward, curling her legs in on herself.

Ralph stood there, his face red and sweat beading down his forehead.

“What’s going on?” Evelyn asked, curling up tighter.

Ralph let out a growl of frustration and started toward her.

“Ralph- no!” Evelyn kicked out at him, but he grabbed hold of her ankles and dragged her to the edge of the bed. “What are you-“

“Shut up,” Ralph snapped, unlacing the chains around her wrist. “We’re leaving.”

“What-“

“I said shut up!”

He tugged down hard on the chain, making it dig deeper into the wound around her wrist. Evelyn hissed in pain, but she quieted as he told her. There was another thud from downstairs and Evelyn snapped her head in the direction of the sound. Things were slowly starting to come together; Ralph’s shaking hands, his red face, the thudding downstairs.

Evelyn looked between Ralph and the door. She sat a still as she could while his trembling hands, waiting for the just right moment. As soon as the chains were loose, Evelyn slipped her wrist out of the chain, kicked Ralph over with as little strength as she had, and ran for the door.

“Aaron!”

Her cry echoed through the house just before Ralph grabbed her from behind, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He hissed, dragging her back into the room.

“Caro?”

Evelyn gasped through Ralph’s hand at the sound of Hotch’s voice, trying to shout back. She struggled against Ralph as he pulled her back to the bed, thrashing her shoulders to try and break free.

“Agent Caro?”

I’m here, Hotch, I’m here.

Ralph threw the weak Evelyn onto the bed and backhanded her across the face so hard that her head started to spin. She stretched her jaw, blinking away the blackness in her vision.

“Evie!” From somewhere far away, she thought she could hear her best friend, Derek Morgan, calling for her. She opened her mouth to call back, but all she felt was numbness.

By the time she finally felt like she could see again, there was someone else in the doorway. At first glance, she thought it was Ralph, but he was still there in the room with her. The man in the doorway had a gun, the man in the doorway was Aaron Hotchner.

“Ralph Bennet, step away,” Hotch said.

Evelyn watched, head blurry as Ralph did as he was told, backing away from her. But he was going the wrong way. There was something wrong that way. Something she needed to tell Hotch about.

“You came for me,” she said, trying to smile.

“Are you okay, Caro?”

Evelyn could feel the headache behind her eyes begin to fade. She nodded her head once, letting her eyes close. There was something she needed to tell him, something really important.

“There’s something,” she said, shaking her head to try and clear it. “Over there-“

Before Evelyn could even finish, Ralph stepped forward and swung a bat at Hotch, the bat that Evelyn knew was in the corner. The bat that broke her ribs. That was what she needed to tell Hotch about. But now it was too late.

The bat knocked Hotch’s gun out of his hands and onto the ground. Hotch wasted no time in jumping into action, springing at Ralph without a second thought. Evelyn tried to shake herself out of her stoper. She would be no help to anyone weary. Even if malnutrition and the beating she got that morning were the cause of her exhaustion, she wanted to be of more help.

Hotch knocked Ralph backward, but Ralph held tight to the bat in his hands, using it to push Hotch backward. It was hard for Evelyn to follow the fight, her eyes not able of following every hit and swing. When her eyes finally caught up with what was happening, the ringing in her ears starting to fade, Evelyn found that Hotch was on the ground, Ralph standing over him with the baseball bat, ready to bash his head in.

Evelyn pushed herself off of the bed, her legs weak and shaking, and ran toward Ralph.

“Don’t touch him!” She growled, reaching up to grab hold of the bat.

“Let go, bitch!”

It didn’t take much for Ralph to throw Evelyn’s grip off the bat, but only by throwing the bat out of his hands as well. She hit the ground with a thud, the force rattling through her bones. Ralph immediately turned his attention back to Hotch, who was still on the ground but in a less vulnerable state.

On the ground with Evelyn were the bat and the forgotten gun, but they were all the way on the other side of the room. She didn’t know if she could make it there and back before her legs gave out.

She was laying on the ground by the edge of the bed, hearing Hotch and Ralph go at it. There had to be something that she could do. She had to do something. As she pushed herself up, Evelyn’s had grazed over the chain, the chain that had been used to keep her tied to this bed for days. Looking up at Ralph, Evelyn dug into all that bitterness and all the rage that she had been brewing for the past twenty years of her life and found some ounce of strength.

Strength enough to wrap her hands around the chain. Strength enough to pick to chain off the ground. Strength enough to stand.

With Ralph paying attention to Hotch, his back was left exposed to her. He didn’t think she had the strength left. He thought he broke her.

But she was unbreakable.

Wrapping the chain around one of her hands, she walked up behind Ralph and swung the chain around his neck. He let out a startled gasp, lifting a hand, but not before Evelyn grabbed the chain with her open hand and pulled. Ralph stumbled backward into her. He slapped at her hands. He tried to hit her with the back of his head.

But the adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her strong. She pulled tighter, tensing her hands.

Ralph gagged and Evelyn scrunched her nose. He let out a gurgling sound and Evelyn groaned as the muscles in her arms began to cramp from the tightness. But still she did not let go.

Hotch stood, his lip bleeding and his eye beginning to bruise. Ralph and Evelyn stumbled over; he fell to the ground and she landed on the bed, never once letting the chain go slack.

“Agent Caro,” Hotch said. “You can let him go.”

Evelyn only pulled tighter. Ralph smacked at her hands lamely, choking sounds gurgling from his throat. His legs kicked out, struggling in the same way that she had been. His legs kicked and his body twitched and his arms flailed out and he maybe felt an ounce of the terror that Evelyn had.

“Caro.”

Evelyn’s face twisted she breathed heavily, pulling tighter against the chain until Ralph’s eyes were rolling.

“Evelyn.”

She froze, looking up at him. All the tension in her face faded as her eyes met Hotch’s. She always used his first name when she needed him to listen to her, but now it was her turn to listen to him. Ralph gasped for the air that was slowly entering his lungs.

“You can let him go.”

Evelyn remembered that scared little girl she was all those years ago. There had been no other option then. It was just her, her uncle, and the knife in her hand. It was kill him or live the rest of her life in a prison. She felt like that again. Alone, terrified, trapped, cornered. There was no other way out.

“You’re safe now, Evelyn,” Hotch said. “You can let him go.”

She wasn’t alone anymore. Hotch was here with her. She wasn’t that terrified little girl with no way out. She was an FBI agent. She had grown and she had learned and she was no longer alone. Her team had come from her. Her family had found her.

She let go of the chain, pulling her legs onto the bed. Ralph heaved in lung fulls of air, but Evelyn kept her eyes on Hotch. He took a step toward them, pulling out his handcuffs. Evelyn flinched away, pulling her legs in tighter.

“These aren’t for you,” Hotch told her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Relaxing her muscles as best as she could, Evelyn nodded her head.

“I know,” she said. “I know.”

She sat there on the bed while Hotch roughly rolled a still coughing Ralph onto his stomach to handcuff him. Once the handcuffs were on, Hotch turned back to Evelyn, who was still staring at him. Her eyes were full of tears.

It was hard for Hotch to say that he didn’t enjoy beating Ralph into the ground. He shouldn’t want to keep beating the shit out of the man now that he was in handcuffs, but seeing those tears in her eyes made Hotch want to. He had been tempted to let Evelyn kill Ralph. She deserved that bit of closure. But he knew the guilt that she already carried, the guilt she would carry on top of that. He knew because he carried that same guilt.

Still, he wanted to see that monster dead. He wanted to wipe those tears from her eyes before they even had a chance to fall.

“Caro-“

“Evie!”

Morgan burst into the room, his eyebrows pinched together in worry. Evelyn tore her gaze away from Hotch at the sound of Morgan’s voice.

“Derek.” The relief in her voice as she said his name made Hotch’s stomach drop.

Morgan rushed toward the bed and dropped to his knees in front of it. He reached forward and pulled the tattered blanket on the bed up and around Evelyn’s shoulders, covering her. Evelyn just stared at him, the tears threatening to fall from her lashes. Morgan brushed hair from out of her face as a smile began to pull at his lips. His smile made her almost able to break a grin too.

When Morgan first put his arms around Evelyn, het body immediately tensed. She expected to be surrounded by Ralph’s smell, feel his clammy skin on hers. But it was Morgan’s smell; that expensive cologne she had bought for his birthday mixed with the laundry detergent he always used. He held her tight. Even when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t able to look down enough to see Ralph, which was probably Morgan’s intention. She would have done the same thing.

The adrenaline had succeeded in keeping her heart rate steady, but now that Morgan was holding her, her heart started to pound.

Hotch grabbed Ralph off the ground and hoisted him to his feet. Evelyn listened as he shoved Ralph down the stairs, Ralph grunting and groaning all the way down.

It wasn’t until they could no longer hear him that Morgan pulled away. She didn’t want to let him go, afraid that she would begin to crumble without him there. Morgan put a hand on her cheek and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Let’s get you home.”

___

The first worst part about walking down those stairs was remembering the last time she had done this. That red stain on the floor had been there for twenty years. Evelyn had left her uncle bleeding out on the floor while she stumbled down the stairs, dazed, terrified. She knew the blood was the same because she had been covered in it too.

The second worst part was when everyone turned to look at her.

JJ, Emily, Reid, and Rossi were all in the downstairs of the house. They had holstered their guns, but Emily still had her hand on hers. The stairs were too narrow for Morgan to walk alongside her, so he held her hand as he walked in front of her. She was almost hesitant to take that final step, terrified of how the others would look at her.

When they heard the stair creak, they all turned their heads toward Evelyn. She froze, her blood running cold. She expected the concerned stares, the pitied eyes, it was all she got last time. Tightening the blanket around her shoulders, Evelyn couldn’t bring herself to look them in the eyes.

JJ walked toward her, stopping only a few feet away.

“Can I hug you?” JJ asked.

Evelyn looked up to see that there were tears in her friend’s eyes, but a smile on her face. There was no pity, only relief.

Slowly, Evelyn nodded her head. JJ didn’t need to be told twice. She closed the distance, wrapping her arms around Evelyn’s neck. Emily was next, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of her head. Reid’s hug was awkward, shaky.

“If you ever need to talk,” he said quietly.

Evelyn nodded her head. She knew that he understood what it was like, to be taken and held against your will. She gave him a gentle smile that he returned. Rossi was the last to approach her. He had teary smile on his face as well. He didn’t hug her entirely, but instead put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her toward him to press a kiss against her forehead.

“C’mon,” Morgan said. “Ambulance is out here.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Evelyn said, looking over at him and giving a shake of your head.

Morgan raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Same old Evelyn.” He put an arm around her shoulder, as he always did. The action was simple, but it was enough to make her smile, to make her feel normal. “But yes, we’re taking you to the hospital.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes but let him lead her outside to the ambulance. Hotch was already out there, talking quietly to the EMT. Ralph must have gone in a different police car. He was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital?” Morgan said once she had a quick once over by the EMT.

“You’re not going to ride with me?” She asked. Evelyn hoped that the fear of being alone again that she was feeling didn’t show through in her voice.

“Hotch’ll go with you.”

Morgan dropped a hand on Hotch’s shoulder, who wore his usual scowl, his arms crossed. He turned toward Morgan, who raised his eyebrows and walked away.

“I’ll be right back,” the EMT said before turning and walking away.

Evelyn sat on the bed, still wearing the blanket Morgan had wrapped around her. Her stomach twisted as Hotch walked toward her. She kept her eyes at the ground, chewing on the inside of her lip. She could feel only shame as he looked at her. Maybe it was because he could see the bruises and the cuts and the blood. Maybe it was because she was at her lowest and he was her boss who should only ever see her at her best. Maybe it was because he had to talk her down from choking the life out of a man. Maybe it was some combination of everything.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, leaning up against the ambulance.

Evelyn nodded her head slowly. She would have responded with a decisive yes, but her mouth had gone too dry to talk.

“That’s a stupid question, of course you’re not okay,” Hotch muttered and looked down at his feet.

“I’m okay,” Evelyn affirmed. “I’m okay.”

When he looked back up at her, Evelyn was surprised to see his eyes were watery.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get you sooner.”

Evelyn shook her head as aggressively as she could manage.

“I knew you would come, Hotch,” she told him. “I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault.”

Hotch let out an almost bitter laugh.

“I should be saying that to you.” Hotch looked at her in such a way that made Evelyn’s stomach squeeze. “All this time, and you’re still looking after me.”

Evelyn gave him a small smile in return.

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course.”

The EMT returned, telling Hotch that they were getting ready to go. He pulled himself into the ambulance and the EMT followed after him.

“Lie back,” the EMT said. Evelyn did as she was told, feeling a suffocating feeling settling on her chest as she stared up at the white ceiling. The sting of tears returned to her eyes and she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to hold them back.

Her hands tensed at her side, clenching around the blanket of the gurney. Hotch, now sitting in the chair beside her, reached out and took her hand in his. She turned her head to look at him, sniffing in deeply.

“It’s going to be okay,” Hotch told her before giving her a sharp nod.

Evelyn nodded back at him, breathing in deeply. She let go of the blanket and shifted her hand around until her fingers were laced through his. She didn’t know how comfortable he was with holding her hand, but at the moment she didn’t care. She needed someone’s hand to hold. She needed his hand to hold.

She wasn’t in the hospital for very long, which she was grateful for. Garcia got there as soon as Evelyn was released and put a pair of shaking arms around her, already dissolved into tears. Evelyn laughed, grateful for her friend’s antics.

“I love you so much,” Garcia said, her tears watering Evelyn’s neck.

She had ditched the gross blanket and was currently sporting a wonderful hospital gown and Hotch’s coat.

“Are you staying somewhere? Do you need somewhere to stay? I’ve got some clothes and a warm bed and I can make you some tea-“

“I really appreciate it, Pen,” Evelyn said, “But Hotch offered me a bed already.”

Garcia stopped her rambling to stare at her, glancing behind Evelyn to where Hotch was talking to the rest of the team.

“Hotch offered-? Right, okay. That’s good. I still brought you some clothes to wear. Come with me.”

“O-okay.”

Garcia led Evelyn to the bathroom to put her in some clothes.

“As soon as they went to get you, I went home to grab you some clothes.” Garcia dropped her bag on the ground. Evelyn covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from laughing. It was sweet of her friend, but Evelyn didn’t think she needed that many clothes for a few nights. “I hope it’s enough.”

“Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Evelyn stepped into one of the stalls and pulled a thin sweater on over her head and a pair of sweatpants. It wasn’t the cutest outfit, but it was comfortable, and it covered her ill looking body, so it would do.

Penelope was wiping tears away when Evelyn stepped out of the stall. Evelyn smiled at her and put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

“I’m okay, Pen.”

“Evie-“

“I’m really okay. I promise.”

Penelope let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

“Can I have a smile? It’ll make me feel better,” Evelyn said in a sing-songy, letting her hands fall back to her side.

A smile tugged at Penelope’s lips and she turned away, letting out a little laugh.

“There you go. Now the world’s right again.”

Evelyn and Penelope left the bathroom and rejoined the group just as Hotch was finishing his little speech.

“Go home, everybody. Get some sleep. We’ll come back to work on Monday,” Hotch was saying.

“Thank you,” Evelyn piped up before they turned to go their separate ways. “For everything.”

___

Hotch opened the front door of his apartment. It was dark inside, only one of the lamps were on. It was silent, still. Part of it was reassuring, the stillness. Part of it was unsettling, the quiet.

She looked back at Hotch and he nodded his head, so she stepped inside.

It felt better once she was inside. It was warm, warmer than the attic.

She had never even imagined stepping into Hotch’s home. She expected it to be stiff and cold like his office was, impersonal. But it was lively, with pictures hung on the walls and décor covering shelves full of books. Evelyn wondered absent-mindedly how much of it was Hayley’s sister or if Hotch had a secret interior designer in him somewhere. The thought made her smile.

“You’ll sleep through here,” Hotch said, his voice in a hushed tone. Jack was probably already in bed.

“Your room?” She asked, keeping her voice equally as low.

Hotch nodded.

“I’m not going to displace you,” Evelyn said. “I can sleep on the couch.”

On the couch, there was already a blanket and pillow set up.

“No, Caro. I can’t let you sleep on a couch your first day back,” Hotch said, giving his head a shake.

“Hotch, seriously-“

“Agent Caro…”

Evelyn tilted her head down and raised an eyebrow.

“Now you’re using your boss voice on me.”

To her amazement, Hotch actually smiled. He was looser here, less uptight. Something about passing into his house must have been some kind of release. Domestic Hotch was very different than at work Hotch.

“Fine,” Evelyn said. “But only for tonight.”

“I’ll be out here if you need me.”

Evelyn nodded her head. She turned down the hall as Hotch walked toward the couch. Evelyn stopped, turning to say one last thing to him, but she decided against it. He sat with his back to her, taking off his shoes. She watched him let out a deep sigh and roll tension out of his shoulders. Evelyn couldn’t help but think that she was the cause of that tension and the sooner she was out of his hair the better.

It was strange, standing by Hotch’s bed. This would be the first warm, safe bed she would be falling in to and it wasn’t her own, it was Hotch’s. It felt wrong to touch. It wasn’t hers. Even if he had said she could, it wasn’t hers. This bed belonged to someone else. Hotch’s permission didn’t feel like the only permission she needed.

On the bedside table, there was a picture. Hotch, Jack, and Hayley, all huddled together and smiling. Evelyn felt herself smiling as she looked at it. Reaching out her hand, she ran a finger along the picture frame.

“I hope it’s okay with you,” Evelyn whispered, looking at the picture of Hotch’s late wife.

They’d met a few times in the past and she was just the gentlest woman. She loved Hotch and she loved her son. There she was, staring up at Evelyn and smiling. But the only image that Evelyn had of her in her mind was Hayley’s limp body, the blood that stained her shirt.

Turning away from the picture, Evelyn pulled the blankets back before she kept overthinking. She dropped the bag that Garcia had given her onto the ground, flicked off her shoes and socks, and crawled into bed.

The warmth of the blankets was strange to her. Even her own bed wasn’t as warm as this one was. Still trying not to over think it, Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut and rolled onto her side. She breathed in deeply and was overwhelmed by his scent. With a heavy sigh, she rolled back onto her back and opened her eyes.

“Get over yourself, Evelyn,” she whispered to herself.

Breathing in slowly and steadily, Evelyn let her brain relax. She went to that safe place in her mind, that place far away. She didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep, safe and warm in that room where no one could reach her.

It wasn’t until blood started to seep through the walls that she realized she was asleep.

She woke up to someone screaming. The sound echoed off the walls of the bedroom. Someone was crying.

“Caro. Caro.” Someone was calling her name. Someone close by. Someone far away.

“Evelyn!”

Her eyes snapped open, her heart pounding so hard she thought she might be having a heart attack. The room was still dark, but the bedside lamp was turned on. The blankets were half on the floor. She had been throwing them off when she kicked her legs. Hotch was sitting in front of her. Not just sitting in front of her, but holding onto her shoulders. He had been shaking her. There was worry on his face, his eyes wide. Behind him was Jack, tears rolling down his face.

He was the one who was crying. That must have meant she was the one who was screaming.

“You’re okay,” Hotch said. “You were just dreaming.”

Evelyn lifted her hands to her face to find that there were tears on her cheeks.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said, a scowl in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Hotch shook his head. He looked tired. She must have woken him up.

“Is she okay?” Jack asked and sniffled.

“She’s fine, Jack, go back to bed,” Hotch said. When Jack hesitated, Hotch gave him a smile. “It’s okay. Go back to bed.”

Jack nodded and shuffled out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn whispered again, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hotch said again and dropped a hand onto her knee. “You’re safe here, no one can hurt you here.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….”

Her hands were shaking too badly for her to say anything else. She already couldn’t remember the dream, but there was blood, so much blood. And she remembered she couldn’t breathe, like there was a chain wrapped around her neck.

Evelyn shut her eyes and put her shaking hands up to her head.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

Hotch let out a sigh. He was frustrated with her. The thought made tears sting her eyes.

“It’s not your fault.”

Even with her eyes closed, the tears still managed to slide down her cheeks. Hotch reached out his hand and rested it on the back of her neck. The contact only made her tears fall faster. She moved her hands to cover her face, ashamed of her reaction. Hotch pulled her in toward him and the closer she got to him, the harder she started to cry.

He put his other arm around her and she lowered her forehead to his shoulder, the sobs shaking her shoulders. But Hotch held her tight, one hand on the back of the neck, the other on her back.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what she was really sorry for. Sorry for waking him up. Sorry for sleeping in his bed. Sorry for invading his space. Sorry for getting kidnapped. For getting in the way. For making his life harder. For setting them back from work for days.

“It’s okay, Evelyn. It’s okay.”

At the sound of her name, she stopped her apologies. She heard her first name come from his mouth so rarely, she didn’t want to talk over him. She just wanted to hear him say it again. Finally letting her hands fall away from her eyes, she let her hands fall into her lap.  

“It’s not your fault, Evelyn,” he whispered, hesitantly letting his fingers lace through her hair.

She sniffed.

“It wasn’t your fault and none of us are upset with you,” Hotch told her.

Slowly, her breathing started to return to normal, sucking in short, gasping breaths of air, but they were steadier.

He pulled away from her, brushing her damp hair out of her face and resting a hand on her cheek. She wouldn’t look at him, still taking shallow breaths, tears still rolling down her cheeks, body still shaking.

“None of us blame you for any of it,” he told her, leaning down to try and catch her eye. “And there’s nothing that could have ever happened to you or that you could have possibly done that wouldn’t make us come for you.”

He brushed a tear off of her cheek as it slid from her eye.

“Evelyn, look at me.”

It took her a moment, but she finally managed to lift her eyes to meet his. They were wide and terrified, trembling like the rest of her body. Hotch tightened his jaw.

“We’re not going anywhere. I know your last family left you after what happened, but I promise you, we are not going anywhere.” Evelyn let out another shuddered breath and nodded her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It took a few more moments to calm her down and by the time she had stopped crying, her eyes were getting heavy.

“Sleep now,” Hotch said, slowly standing up from the bed. She was still sitting up, her head hanging and her hands in her lap.

“Aaron?” He paused at the door and half turned toward her. “Will you….”

She scowled and cleared her throat, shaking her head.

“What can I do for you?”

She breathed out heavily and looked up at him again.

“Would you stay, here, with me?” She felt stupid, asking.

But he wasn’t looking at her in pity or loathing. He nodded his head before walking to the other side of the bed.

Evelyn laid back onto the pillow, pulling the blankets up to her chin. She closed her eyes, embarrassed to see him, as if her request was ridiculous and gross. But she didn’t think that she could have fallen asleep if she was on her own.

She felt the other side of the bed dip in and the blankets rustle.

“Do you want the light on?” He asked.

“You can turn it off if you’d like.”

The light flickered off and they were shrouded in darkness.

“Goodnight, Evelyn.”

“Night, Aaron.”

___

When Hotch woke up the next morning, the other side of the bed was empty. He got used to the empty bed a long time ago, but there was a pit in his stomach this time. Evelyn should be there. She should be-

There was a smell coming from the kitchen. A pleasant smell.

Sitting up and stretching, Hotch made his way to the bedroom door. He heard laughing coming from the kitchen. When he opened the door, he had a direct line of sight to the kitchen. Jack was already awake, sitting happily at the table. There were usually only two chairs at that table, but Jack had pulled up a third.

Standing in the kitchen with a smile on her face was Evelyn. Jack was saying something to her, barely incoherent through all his laughter. Evelyn was just laughing along with him. Hotch shuffled through the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the corner of the and crossing his arms.

“What is going on here?” He asked with a smile on his face.

Evelyn and Jack both turned to him, both smiling.

“Eggs, bacon, French toast,” Evelyn said. “Want some?”

Hotch couldn’t help the smile on his face. He nodded, walking toward Jack and sitting down at the chair next to him.

It was strange, seeing Evelyn this way. She was generally serious at work, like he was. She would laugh and tease with Morgan and the girls and Reid, but Hotch was so used to her being solid, so stoic, so ready. But here she was, smiling and laughing and making jokes with him.

Evelyn walked over to the table carrying three plates of food and set them onto the table. She sat down, the biggest grin on her face.

“Dig in,” she said.

Hotch and Evelyn both knew that this happiness on her face went only so deep. Her suffering and her pain were just starting to bubble to the surface. But for now, she could eat this breakfast, laugh with Jack, pretend everything was okay.

“Would you like to watch my soccer game today, Evie?” Jack asked as they took the empty plates back to the kitchen.

Evelyn looked over at Hotch, hesitant.

“That would be great, buddy,” she said before looking back at Hotch. “Would you mind?”

“No, of course not.”

Jack’s grin was the brightest Hotch had seen in a long time.

Hotch knew of course about Evelyn’s competitive nature. They had been working together for years. He had seen enough games between her and Morgan to know that she liked to win. He still somehow didn’t expect that much competition to come out of her during his son’s soccer match.

She yelled from the sidelines, cheering for Jack and shouting at the ref and even exchanging glares with other parents. It was hard not to be distracted by her as Hotch tried to coach his team, trying to keep his laughing to a minimum. When the game ended, after Hotch had a word with the players, Jack ran straight for Evelyn. He stopped just in front of her, remembering what his dad had told him about not getting too close, and grinned up at her.

Evelyn put her hand on his head and ruffled his sandy blond hair.

“You were great out there, kid,” she said. “You got the most goals on your team.”

“We, uh, don’t usually keep score,” Hotch said as he walked over.

Evelyn looked up at him with the brightest smile.

“Well, I did and your team did a great job.”

One of the other moms walked over, her daughter and Jack immediately engaging in teasing and chatting about the game as they tried to kick each other in their still guarded shins.

“My name is Mary,” the mother said, reaching a hand out for Evelyn to shake. Evelyn startled, her heart rate spiking at Mary’s sudden movement. She recovered quickly, shaking Mary’s hand.

“Evelyn Caro.”

“Are you and Aaron-“

“We work together,” Hotch said.

Mary nodded her head.

“That explains the….”

She gestured toward Evelyn’s face before pausing and forced a smile.

“Right.”

Evelyn had forgotten how horrible her face must look. She had been absently rolling the scab on her lip between her teeth all day. Her bruised and cut cheek was sore, her other eye throbbing every now and again. The battered shape of her face hadn’t even crossed her mind while she offered to go to Jack’s game.

Evelyn looked over Hotch for assistance. His smile was still there, but thinner.

“Mary, how is your husband?” Hotch asked, clearly trying to direct the attention away from Evelyn. She was grateful for it.

She listened to their conversation with a smile until Jack walked back over to them and grabbed her by the hand. She turned to look at him with a smile. He beckoned for her to bend down and she did. Jack even stood on his toes so he could whisper in her ear.

“Can you ask Daddy if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” He asked, his voice so quiet that Evelyn barely heard him.

Still, she let out a laugh and straightened her back.

“I can do that.”

Jack grinned and ran back toward his friends. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him run away. She had met Jack only handful of times in the past, but he was such a light. He meant so much to Aaron that it was impossible for Evelyn not to love him, too. The poor boy had been through so much already.

“What did he want?” Hotch asked.

Evelyn turned back around to find that not only was Mary talking to Hotch, but three other unaccompanied women were hanging around as well. She resisted the urge to tease him about it right there. Teasing Hotch was also something new. She never would have done it before. Their relationship was strictly professional.

“Jack wants to go to McDonald’s on the way home,” Evelyn told Hotch.

“Ah,” Hotch said, his hands on his hips.

“The kids always do,” a blonde mother said, no ounce of amusement in her tone as she glanced at Evelyn.

“I suppose he thought you asking would make the likelihood of me saying yes higher?”

Evelyn shrugged. The other moms stood there, laughing joylessly, but Evelyn didn’t even see them.

They did stop at McDonald’s on the way home. Jack happily sang a song to himself in the backseat, munching on his apple slices and French fries. Evelyn was sitting in the passenger seat with one of her feet propped up on the dash.

“This feels like cheating,” Evelyn sighed, staring at the fries in her hands.

“How?” Hotch asked with a short laugh.

Evelyn shrugged, shoving the fries in her mouth.

“Something about it. They’re too good, I guess. There’s gotta be a downside.”

Hotch opened his mouth to say something but she held up her hand to stop him.

“You don’t have to profile my eating habits, Hotchner,” she said.

Hotch simply laughed.

When they got back from the game, Jack went to take a nap, leaving Evelyn and Hotch alone in the apartment.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited the team over to watch the game this afternoon,” Hotch said.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Evelyn said. “This is still your home.”

“Right.” Hotch nodded his head.

She dropped herself onto the couch, her eyes tired, but she had no desire to sleep, especially if the team was coming over.

But her eyes were beginning to droop against her better judgement. The apartment was quiet, she could barely hear Hotch moving around until there was the soft sound of music flitting through the room.

Hotch sat down at the table, trying to be far enough away from the sleeping woman on his couch to help her feel comfortable. Light music floated through the room as he sat, flipping through a book that he wasn’t really reading. It seemed like every three seconds, his eyes would move from his book to where Evelyn was sleeping. He justified it to himself, trying to tell himself it was just to make sure she wasn’t having another nightmare. Last night had been hard on all of them and he didn’t want a repeat. But there was something else that kept drawing his gaze to her.

She just looked so at peace. Like none of the thousands of terrible things in the world could touch her. Her breathing was short, but steady and there was almost a bit of a smile on her face. His hands were tense around the book, just waiting for her breathing to change to signal to him that she was going to a place in her mind where she didn’t want to be.

He was almost tempted to ask the others to not come to allow Evelyn the chance to sleep. But Hotch thought it was best to allow her the time to socialize with the people she loved. She needed to be surrounded by support at this time and Hotch knew he couldn’t possibly provide enough of it to be any help.

An hour and a half later, fifteen minutes before the others were due to arrive, Hotch walked over to where she slept on the couch. Again, he was tempted to just let her sleep. But he put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a light shake in hopes of rousing her.

“Caro,” he whispered.

She woke with a startled gasp, her eyes snapping open. Hotch was prepared for some kind of emotional response. He was ready in case she needed his help, but after the initial shock of being woken up, she sat up normally. Rubbing her eyes, Evelyn let out a yawn.

“Are they here?” She asked.

“Not yet,” Hotch said. “Soon. I’m going to wake up Jack. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” There was a little bit of a scowl on her face as she continued to try and wake herself up. “Anything I can do to help get ready?”

Hotch was already halfway to Jack’s room, but he shook his head.

“Everyone else is bringing food. We’re off the hook for this one,” he told her before slipping into Jack’s room.

Evelyn forced herself off the couch, even though her bones were still stiff and tired. She straightened the cushions she slept on before rubbing her eyes again. She didn’t think she had dreamed, which was the first time she hadn’t in a very long time.

She was rubbing tension out of her neck when there was the first knock at the door.

Evelyn started and reached for the gun that should have been there but wasn’t. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hand still on her hip where her gun should have been. She wanted to move, but her muscles felt frozen. Eyes wide and body tense, Evelyn struggled to breathe. There was a tightness in her chest she couldn’t shake.

There was a knock at the door again, but she still couldn’t move.

“Caro, you okay?” Hotch asked as he came back from Jack’s room. “Evelyn?”

He stopped on his way to the door. She saw him standing there, staring at her, but all she could do was watch the door. Her body began to shake ever so slightly from the tension in her muscles.

“It’s just the team, Caro,” Hotch said, slowly putting his hands out toward her. “They’re not going to hurt you.”

Evelyn heard what he was saying, but something in her bones told her that it was a bad guy, someone who wanted to come in and hurt her, hurt Hotch, hurt Jack. She wouldn’t let that happen.

“Caro, I need you to look at me and just breathe,” Hotch was saying, taking a step toward her. There was another knock at the door and she flinched. “Look at me. Breathe.”

Evelyn sucked in one deep breath in through her nose before flickering her watery eyes away from the door and toward Hotch. He titled his head to the side, taking on a non-offensive stance. Her eyes strained to look at him.

“I’m going to open the door, okay?” Evelyn gave a sharp shake of her head, her body jerking forward but her feet not going anywhere. “I’m going to open the door. It’s going to be okay.”

He took a step toward the door and Evelyn shook her head again. Hotch turned away from her and kept walking toward the door.

“Hotch,” Evelyn said, her words just barely above a whisper.

When his hand touched the handle, Evelyn shook her head again, staring at the door unblinking. The door unlocked and the handle turned.

“Hotch-“

The door opened. Evelyn’s eyes widened even further, waiting for Ralph to be standing there on the other side.

But it was just Penelope and JJ and Emily, all grinning wildly.

Evelyn blinked her eyes hard and shook her head, dropping her hands back to her sides and relaxing her defensive stance.

“Come in,” Hotch was saying.

Evelyn forced a smile onto her face and went to greet her friends as they came in. She helped them set up the table with the food and drinks they brought.

“How are you doing?” JJ asked as she tore into the chips.

Evelyn sighed, still trying to smile.

“I’m doing okay,” she said.

“I might not be as good a profiler as any of you guys,” JJ said. “But I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

Evelyn turned to face her, leaning her hip against the table and crossing her arms.

“I am doing as well as you can imagine I’m doing,” Evelyn said. “But most of the time I’m doing okay.”

JJ put a hand on her friend’s arm and offered a small smile.

“If you ever need anything-“

“I know you’re always there for me, JJ,” Evelyn said. “I won’t ever forget it.”

JJ nodded and they turned back to the table. It was only a few more minutes before the boys arrived. After greeting Hotch and Emily, Morgan came straight for Evelyn, who was still at the table rearranging everything for the fifteenth time.

“I swear I’m going to lose it if you ask me if I’m okay, Derek Morgan,” Evelyn said, moving the napkins off the plates where she had just put them.

Morgan let out his signature laugh before throwing an arm over her shoulders.

“I know how you’re doing, so I don’t need to ask,” Morgan told her. “I just came over here to give you a hug.”

Evelyn let out a breath and turned toward him, eagerly putting her arms around his waist. There was safety in his arms. Her muscles were still tense from her moment before, and it felt impossible for her to relax and fall into normalcy with her friends. But with Morgan there, everything seemed to be at least a little bit okay.

“Keep fighting,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s how you win.”

Evelyn nodded her head. She pulled away and quickly swiped away a stray tear before wiping her hands on her jeans. She back at Morgan briefly with a strained smile, glad to see him smiling back.

“Let’s go sit,” Morgan said to her.

Evelyn sat herself on the very end of the couch, knowing how much her team loved to cram in together and not really feeling comfortable being stuck in between Morgan and JJ as they shouted back and forth at each other about their opposing sports opinions. She sat with her feet up on the couch and her knees pulled up to her chest.

Reid sat next to her, still and quiet.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hey, Reid.”

He didn’t say anything else. Evelyn didn’t really want him to. Still, she leaned toward him and put her head on his shoulder. Reid tensed for a moment, but then he relaxed.

“It’s good to have you back,” he whispered to her.

“It’s good to be back,” she whispered back.

A few minutes before the game had started, there was already yelling going on between Rossi and JJ about something Evelyn couldn’t really follow. Jack came out of his room, hair a mess and eyes looking tired.

“Hey, buddy!” Hotch said. “Come for some food?”

The newly awake Jack shook his head and hobbled over to Evelyn. She dropped her feet to the ground as he struggled to crawl into her lap. He dropped his head to her shoulder.

“You okay, kid?” she asked him, rubbing her hand up and down his back. He nodded and yawned.

A chip flew over her head that Morgan had definitely thrown at Rossi who sat in the chair next to Evelyn. Penelope was watching the commercials eagerly, shouting at everyone to quiet down. JJ had roped Emily into her argument with Rossi and Reid was telling Morgan something about some sports statistic that Morgan was desperately trying to refute.

Evelyn looked over at Hotch, who was watching them with a look in his eye that she couldn’t really read. She was usually good at reading Hotch, but every now and again, he’d get this look that she didn’t understand. When he noticed her looking, he gave her a smile and nodded his head.

Part way through the game, Jack left her lap to go and grab some food. She offered him her seat when he came back so that she could go over to the table for some food and a breather. Hotch met her there, scooping cheese dip onto his paper plate.

“Intense game,” Evelyn said, popping a grape into her mouth.

“Very.”

“Oh, come on!” Morgan yelled.

Evelyn laughed quietly to herself.

“If you need to step out-“

“I’m fine, Hotch, really,” she said, turning toward him. “Everything’s good. What happened earlier-“

“Was a completely normal reaction.” Evelyn was startled by his rebuttal interruption. “You’re allowed to have bad moments or even bad days.”

“I know that.”

“You’re also allowed to have fun.”

“I know that, too.”

Morgan stood up quickly from the couch, letting out half a expletive before remembering Jack was there and switching it up half way through.

“I really missed this, though,” Evelyn said through a laugh.

Hotch looked at her and then looked over at Morgan and let out a sigh.

“He was really worried about you,” Hotch told her, his hands tightening around the poor paper plate in his hand.

Evelyn nodded her head, looking down at the grapes in her hand.

“I thought I’d never see him again. I thought I’d never see any of you again,” she told him.

“You didn’t think we’d find you?”

“Oh, I knew you would,” she looked back over at him. “I just didn’t know if it would be soon enough.”

“Evelyn-“

“Evie, come look at this!” Penelope called, waving her over.

“Pardon me, Hotch.”

Hotch watched her walk away and kneel on the ground beside Garcia. They laughed about something. Smiling looked good on her, but he knew that it only ran so deep. He couldn’t wait for the day that smile would be real again. He just hoped he was there to see it.

By the time everyone left, the sun was almost down. They stayed long after the game, talking and laughing and throwing things at each other like a bunch of children. Penelope was the last to go, always asking for one last hug while Morgan waited for her just outside.

“I’ll see you soon, Pen,” Evelyn laughed, trying to push her friend toward the door.

“I hate leaving you,” Penelope said.

“I think I’m in the safest hands I can be.”

Penelope pulled away at that.

“You’re right.” She looked over at Hotch. “Hotch won’t let anything happen to you. You’re perfectly safe here.”

Evelyn gave her a smile.

“Exactly. Now, go. Morgan’s waiting for you.”

Penelope straightened her jacket and nodded her head.

“Right.” She turned and walked out the door. “Let’s go, Derek.”

Morgan offered one last wave, tossing an arm over Penelope’s shoulders. He sent a look Evelyn’s way that she read perfectly. If she needed anything….

Hotch shut the door and the apartment was silent. Evelyn let out a heavy breath.

“That was fun,” Jack said, laying on the couch.

“Time for bed for you, buddy,” Hotch said.

The team was generally good at cleaning up after themselves and taking the food that they had brought with them, but there was always a mess to clean up afterward. The few times Evelyn had one of these gatherings at her own place taught her this well enough. Hotch walked Jack toward his room while Evelyn turned to start cleaning.

“You don’t have to do that,” Hotch said, emerging from his son’s room as Evelyn pulled the full trash bag out of the trash can.

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing this place is a mess,” she told him.

It was these quiet moments when it was just the two of them that Evelyn felt the most exposed, the most terrified. Not that he would hurt her because she knew he never would, but just knowing that all of his attention was on her made her almost sick to her stomach.

“I’ll take the trash to the can outside,” Hotch said, walking toward her.

“Alright.”

She handed the bag off to him, his fingers just barely grazing over her hand. Evelyn elected not to look up at him as electricity crackled up her arm. She breathed in deeply and turned toward the couch.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. He took a few steps away from her and Evelyn just nodded her head.

She didn’t look at him as he left the room. With a pounding heart, Evelyn sat slowly onto the couch, shutting her eyes and breathing deeply until she dropped her head into her hands.

What was wrong with her? She had always been able to keep her emotions under control around Hotch. Always. Even when he was talking about Hayley, even when he cared so deeply about people it made him rage, even when he did that thing with his eyes that silenced even the haughtiest narcissist, even when he gave her a look that put all other looks to shame. She had always kept her cool because that was what she had trained herself to do.

But now her training was backfiring on her. Her training was making her think danger was there when it wasn’t. Her training was making her question the movements of everyone she loved. Her training was taking her sleep from her. Her training was crumbling and slowly revealing that terrified girl that lay underneath.

Evelyn opened her eyes, hoping to think of absolutely anything else than the heat in her cheeks and the pounding of her heart in her stomach.

Maybe keeping her eyes closed may have been better because as soon as her eyes were open, they landed on Hotch’s bag propped up against the coffee table. Someone must have moved it during the game. Sticking out of the top was a file. There was no name on the file, but Evelyn knew it was hers, or at least from the last job they’d done, which was hers.

Instinct took over and she bent down, snatching the yellow folding from his bag. It was thick, thicker than she’d have liked. Laying it on the table, her suspicions were confirmed as she flipped open the first page. It was this last case and the very first picture on it was the one they took in the hospital when she first arrived.

Evelyn didn’t realize how terrible she looked until just then. She was thin, trembling. Her hair was matted with blood. She looked dirty, covered in blood and bruises. Evelyn gagged, covering her mouth with her hand. That was how all of her friends had seen her that day. The thought made her shiver.

The picture just underneath it was the one they had taken when she was a kid. The similarities in the pictures made her even sicker.

She shuffled through the files, eyes scanning the pages just like Reid had taught her, until she found Hotch’s report.

She pulled it out, hands shaking as she held it in front of her. She had always wondered how Hotch managed to write these reports, summing up everything they went through during the case in just a few short pages.

Her throat swelled as she read through the beginning. She read about the women Ralph killed, how they were assaulted and murdered, how the team discovered it was Ralph. She read through them deciding to send Evelyn into the meeting to find Ralph and lure him in. She didn’t know then that he was the step kid of her uncle. If she had, she wouldn’t have gone in there empty handed.

Then she read how they had found out she was missing and what they did to find her. Her heart plummeted into her stomach, dropping from her chest like a ton of rocks. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth, hoping swallow the sob that was threatening to come from her mouth. Sitting in that attic, Evelyn had wondered what the point of killing those other women was. She had spent hours pouring over ideas. She thought him running into her was an accident, pure coincidence. This case already put her on edge, seeing as it took place in the very same town she grew up in.

But the team had solved it. They had figured it out. All those women that Ralph had killed….

Tears clouded her vision, but she refused to blink. A quiet moan of distress came from her. She didn’t even hear the door of the apartment open.

“Evelyn?”

She didn’t jump at the sound of Hotch’s voice. Instead, she turned toward him slowly, those same tears gathered in her eyes.

“It’s my fault,” she said, holding the report in her hands. The tears dropped from her lashes, hitting her cheeks with the strength of a butterfly.  

“It’s not.”

“It is!” Hotch let out a defeated breath. “It says right here that-“

“That report says Ralph Bennet made the decision to assault and murder those four women.”

“Because of me!”

Hotch walked over to her and sat on the couch beside her, but not too close.

“Did you kill those women, Caro?”

“No, but-“

“No, you didn’t.”

“Hotch, he killed them because I knew them. He killed them because he knew it would lure me in. If I hadn’t-“

“What? If you hadn’t what?” She was quiet. “If you hadn’t killed your uncle? You did what you had to do to survive, Evelyn. No one will fault you for that.”

“If I hadn’t….” she trailed off, staring at the paper with her teary eyes.

“If you hadn’t come with us to solve this case? More women would have died.”

“I fell right into his trap,” she whispered, her hands tightening around the paper. “I didn’t even know he existed, and he knew me well enough to set the trap and just wait for me to walk right into it. I can’t believe I was that stupid.”

“Do you want to know what that tells me?”

She looked up at him.

“You returned to a town where you had been traumatized to help bring justice to these women. You went into that meeting trying to catch a killer. You stayed alive long enough for us to find you using clues that you gave us.” Evelyn sniffed, wiping the underside of her nose with the back of her hand. “You’re not stupid, Evelyn. You’re the bravest person I have ever met.”

She looked over at Hotch again, her lower lip trembling.

“They died for me,” she said and took in a shaky breath. A tear slid down her nose. “How do I repay them for that?”

Hotch was quiet for a moment and heaved out a sigh, just allowing him time to think of a proper answer.

“You live,” he told her. “You survive this and carry on for them.”

Evelyn closed her eyes. She was hearing him and her brain was telling her that he was right, but her heart wasn’t believing him. She couldn’t believe him.

Without saying anything, Evelyn pushed herself off the couch and made for the door, hoping to escape before he could see the tears that were threatening to run from her eyes again.

“Caro, where are you going?” Hotch asked, standing after her.

“I need some air,” she replied as she struggled with the lock on the door.

“I’ll come with you.”

“I need to be alone right now,” she said, finally getting the door open.

Hotch put his hand on the door and pushed it shut. Evelyn froze, keeping her hand on the doorknob.

“You’re not going anywhere by yourself.”

Evelyn turned around slowly. Hotch was looming over her, his hand still on the door to keep her from opening it again.

“Let me out, Hotch.”

“You’re not a prisoner here, but you’re not going out there alone.”

She stared at Hotch unblinkingly. Evelyn’s breathing started to speed up, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but it wasn’t anger or fear that made her heart rate spike.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?”

Evelyn knew she was poking the bear, but she felt like she had to. Poke the bear yourself, make it roar on your terms before it decides to do it itself.

“Why can’t I go out there alone? You think I can’t handle myself?”

“No, I know you can-“

“Then why won’t you let me leave?”

“Because I want you to be safe.”

The calmness of his voice made her even angrier. It made her want to poke harder.

There was a gaping wound in her soul and it was still gushing blood. Hotch was trying to patch it up, help her to heal, but he was getting too close to the only thing that kept her breathing. He was getting too close to the wound and she was terrified of the idea of him seeing her, feeling her, so she recoiled. She would snap at him until he left her alone. Until he left her wound bleed in peace.

“Why did you come for me?”

“Why did we come for you?” Hotch repeated, astounded by her question. “You’re part of the team. Why wouldn’t we come for you?”

“I’m not asking about the team, Aaron. I’m asking about you.”

Hotch straightened at the sound of his first name. She knew why. She’d done it on purpose. She needed to convince him she was angry. That was the only way to keep him at bay.

“I couldn’t just let you rot there; the team needs you.”

“The team?” She let out a bitter laugh before pushing past him and stalking into the middle of the room. “It’s always about the team with you, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“I could have died in that house, Aaron, and all you can come up with is the team needed me and that’s why you came?”

She hated the taste her words left in her mouth. She hated saying them. But she had to. She had to push him away if she had any hope for surviving. She had tied her heart to his and if she didn’t severe it now….

There was real anger in his eyes at her words. Finally, an emotion. A chink in his armor.

“If you had died in that house, I would have killed that bastard myself!”

Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath. It was so rare to see an emotion on Aaron Hotchner. In the last few days alone, she had seen more from him than she had ever seen in all her years working with him; fear, joy, grief, anger, relief. And it was mostly because of her.

“Enough with the team needs me bullshit.” Evelyn dropped the tone of her voice. “I’m going for a walk.”

She turned her back on him and walked toward the front door. She made it all the way there, her hand on the doorknob before Hotch spoke again.

“I need you.”

Evelyn froze, her hand glued to the doorknob as if it was ice and her hand was burning hot. Her blood ran cold and her heart stopped in her chest.

“What?”

“You don’t accept that you’re a vital member of the team as a worthy reason for us to come and help you? Fine.” There it was again, anger in Hotch’s voice. His dark eyebrows were pulled together. “I need you.”

Evelyn had started this argument because she needed to keep his hands away from the wound she was nursing, the wound that every breath seemed to tear open a little bit more. His kindness and compassion were just insult to injury. But his sincerity in this moment punched through every wall around her wound that she had been attempting to build up in the last few minutes.

He said it like he would say any other truth. He said it like he would say anything during a case; without a hint of uncertainty.

She turned toward him. For the first time in a while, she felt no shame as tears glimmered in her eyes.

“You mean it?” She asked, pulling on the edges of her sleeve.

“Have I ever lied to you before?”

“I mean when, Emily-“ Evelyn stopped herself and cleared her throat. “No. You haven’t.”

Hotch stood there, clearly not wanting to say anything else that would set her off. Evelyn bowed her head, let her hand fall away from the doorknob, and she crossed the room, putting her arms around his waist before he even realized that she was coming toward him.

Hotch was frozen for a second, her change in mood so rapid that he almost couldn’t register it. Evelyn’s eyes were screwed shut as she prayed that he wouldn’t reject her embrace, though she could understand if he did. But, eventually, he put his arms around her, pulling her in closer and she could finally relax.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, letting the tears stream down her face, fast and hot. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he told her, his words just as quiet.

“Please don’t give up on me.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m trying.”

Hotch knew from the report what happened with her parents after she had escaped from her uncle. He knew how they turned their back on her in the following months. She had come back to them after four years, after killing her father’s brother, and she wasn’t the little girl they had lost anymore. They reported anger issues, lashing out, screaming and hitting and breaking things. They told authorities they couldn’t handle her anymore. They just didn’t know what to do.

But Hotch also knew that she was a child who was cut so deeply by someone she trusted and that she deserved to be loved and protected by her family no matter what. No matter how loudly she screamed, no matter the mess she made, they should have loved her. They should have fought for her just as hard as she was fighting to survive. He wouldn’t abandon her like they did.

“I promise not to give up on you if you promise me not to give up on yourself,” he told her.

Evelyn nodded her head.

“Promise,” she said.

___

The following months were hard. Moving back into her own apartment where it was quiet and the silence was deafening was the hardest part. When there was no one to wake her from her nightmares or hold her while she cried, when there was no Jack to make her laugh even when she wanted to cry, when there was just her and the mirror. She hated being back home. She wanted to back at the Hotchner’s, but she knew she couldn’t impose on them any longer.

There were days when her promise to Hotch was the only thing that kept her going. He had made her promise not to give up on herself and she would be damned before she disappointed Hotch again. So, she fought, tooth and nail, just to stay afloat. Some days, that looked like lying in bed and letting the tears fall. Some days, that looked like calling Morgan or Penelope and asking them to play a board game with her. Some days, that looked like running until she couldn’t breathe. Some days, that looked like dancing around her apartment at 3 am.

Slowly, she began to remember what it was like to feel alive. And she started to love it again.

The day she came back to work, the smile on her face reached deep into that wound in her soul. It wasn’t healed, but it was better. It didn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

The team acted like she knew they would on her first case. Hotch didn’t let her go anywhere by herself. Someone had to be by her side at all times. It was suffocating, but she knew it was for the best.

By the time the case was finished and the guy arrested, Evelyn almost felt like herself again. This is what she was meant to be doing. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting by herself in her room all day, wasting away. The field was in her blood. It was part of her.

They all went out to dinner that night and everything was right in the world again. Evelyn used to sit in her apartment, Hotch and Morgan and Garcia sending her updates as they went. She knew when she got the triple text that the case was over that they’d be going out to eat, celebrating, having a laugh to cope with everything they had seen. And she would sit in her dark apartment.

But now she was in the right place. They went to a pub downtown. She ordered fries and a coke with a little cherry on top. Morgan made fun of her for smothering her fries in ketchup. She stole a bite of Emily’s pasta as she talked to Rossi. Life had returned to normal, and it was just what she needed.

The next few cases went the same way. Hotch began to trust her being alone again, allowing her to have the space she needed to do her job. There were cases where she needed to step into the bathroom and cry. There were times when she stayed behind with the local police because she couldn’t even think about going in without panicking. And the nights in her apartment alone were the worst.

But as long as she was on a case with her team, things were actually okay. She could push away her fear and the anxiety that made her bones rattle and her muscles freeze. She could go back to be Agent Evelyn Caro, where she was at her best.

Almost a year passed. Evelyn knew that the anniversary fear was a thing, but she was determined to be fine. The case they came in for was the farthest away from anything that could remind her of what she went through. Men were being taken and killed. The pattern was easy to solve, the profile quick to figure out. Everything was going to be okay.

Until Hotch and Evelyn were hunting the killer on their own. Evelyn was walking through a suspect’s house with her gun drawn, knowing that Hotch was upstairs doing the same thing. There was a thud coming from the second floor.

“Hotch?” Evelyn called out. “You okay?”

There was no reply. Her heart started to seize.

“Hotch?”

Walking toward the stairs, her gun drawn, Evelyn told herself to breathe. She would be no help to Hotch if she was panicking. She took one step up the stairs before a sudden and sharp pain exploded against the side of her head, sending her into the wall, knocking her unconscious.

When Evelyn woke up, she was in a basement. Her head squeezed and ached, jaw stiff. She shook her head and forced her eyes open.

Sitting across the room from her, still unconscious, was her boss.

“Hotch!”

Evelyn scrambled over to him, barely standing at all before she dropped to the ground next to him.

“Hotch, hey, you good?”

She saw him breathing, so that was something, but he was unresponsive to her voice. She shook his shoulders, but still he slept.

“Please don’t fire me,” Evelyn whispered before pulling her hand back and slapping him across the face.

Hotch gasped and his eyes flew open, his body falling over to the side.

“Oh, thank God,” Evelyn breathed.

“Did you slap me?” Hotch asked her, sitting back up.

“You wouldn’t wake up.”

“So you slapped me?”

Evelyn shrugged as Hotch rubbed his jaw with his hand.

“Remind me to never piss you off,” he told her. Evelyn felt herself almost smile. “Where are we?”

Evelyn looked around the basement and let out a heavy breath.

“Not sure,” she said. “We got the profile wrong, didn’t we?”

Hotch nodded his head and used the support beam in the middle of the room to push himself upward.

“There was a woman. I thought she was hurt, but….”

“She got the drop on the mighty Aaron Hotchner? I’m impressed.” Evelyn teased, needed to joke about something before her brain exploded from the pain or the panic she felt growing in her bones took over completely.

Hotch looked down at Evelyn with a stern look that told her maybe joking wasn’t his favorite way to cope with being kidnapped. Evelyn pursed her lips and pushed herself onto her feet.

“Lions got me, I think,” Evelyn told him, using the support beam to keep her standing.

“So there are two of them and one of them is a woman.” Hotch breathed out a sigh. “How does that change the profile?”

“We know that the men were chosen because Lions wanted something they had.”

“Position, status, money-“

“A certain woman.”

Hotch turned to look at Evelyn, who was scanning the basement as if it would hold the answers. There were blood stains on the ground. This was definitely where the victims were killed. There was a door at the top of the stairs, but if these guys were any good at what they did, the door would be locked.

“You think his partner could have been the wife of one of the victims?” Hotch asked.

Evelyn looked back at him and shrugged.

“A wife, a girlfriend, a sister, a daughter. Maybe the person he wants to take her from isn’t even dead yet, but he’s the reason Lions is killing.”

“Why would she help him?”

Evelyn breathed out again.

“Maybe she feels trapped where she’s at and he’s got her convinced this is the only way to save her? If she feels completely dependent on him, she might just do whatever he says.”

“Even kill?”

Evelyn shrugged her shoulders again, but they both knew that the answer was yes. A woman caught in a corner was just as capable of killing as anyone else.

“Well, that’s good then,” Hotch said, putting his hands on his hips.

“How is any of that good?”

“It means I’m the one they want, not you,” Hotch said.

Evelyn’s eyebrows pinched together.

“That really doesn’t sound good, Hotch.”

“You can get through to the partner, Caro,” Hotch said, walking back toward her. Evelyn narrowed her eyes even further at him.

“Maybe, yes.”

“Good. That will get us out of here.”

He turned away from her again. He pulled off his blazer and loosened his tie and the temperature in the room raised about fourteen degrees. Evelyn had to shake away her imagination before responding.

“And what are you going to do?”

“What they brought me here for.”

___

“Please, stop!”

The female unsub, Rosalie, held tight to Evelyn’s arms, holding her back as the male unsub, Jeremy Lions, pounded his fist into Hotch’s face.

“You think you’re so strong,” Hotch laughed, taunting Lions. “Don’t you?”

Lions hit Hotch in the face again.

“You have to stop him,” Evelyn said to Rosalie. “No one else can get through to him.”

“He’s doing what he has to to keep us safe,” Rosalie whispered to Evelyn, but despite the strength in her arms, her voice was weak. “Your friend just needs to give in. It’ll be easier that way.”

Lions hit Hotch again and Evelyn cried out, pulling against Rosalie.

“Shut her up, Rose!”

“Shh, shh,” Rosalie whispered in Evelyn’s ear, holding her right from behind. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No!” Evelyn struggled against the woman holding her, jerking her shoulders in hopes of breaking free.

“You really think that any of this will earn you manhood, Lions?” Hotch said with a laugh, turning the unsub’s gaze back onto him and away from Evelyn.

Lions hit Hotch in the face again.

“Stop it, damnit!”

Lions whirled around and backhanded Evelyn in attempts to get her to quiet down. Rosalie gasped and let Evelyn fall to the ground.

“Jeremy! You said we wouldn’t hurt her!”

Lions let out a growl and grabbed onto Rosalie’s arm, dragging her out of the basement and leaving Hotch and Evelyn behind.

“You need to get through to Rosalie, Caro,” Hotch said as soon as she took a single step toward him.

“I am,” she huffed. Hotch raised an eyebrow at her. “She doesn’t want me to get hurt, that much is clear. If she associates you getting hurt with me getting hurt, she’ll push for Lions to hurt you less.”

Hotch nodded his head once, stretching out his jaw.

“You trust me, right?” Hotch said.

“Of course.” Evelyn’s response was immediate.

“Good.”

That night, they slept in the basement on opposite sides of the room, even though it was freezing cold. Saying they slept was an over exaggeration. Evelyn could barely even close her eyes. It was the cold that kept her eyes frozen open, but it was also the reality of it all. She was trapped, once again. She was a prisoner, once again. She was at the mercy of a man, once again.

And Hotch was here but she had never felt more alone.

The door creaked open and Evelyn sat up with a gasp. She shuffled backward, away from the door, but it was just Rosalie walking down the wooden stairs. The woman locked the door behind her, but still flinched.

“Hi,” Rosalie whispered as she neared. There was a cup and a plate in her hand. She watched the sleeping Hotch as she walked by, only turning her attention back to Evelyn once she passed him.

“Hi,” Evelyn whispered back, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“I…I’m not going to hurt you,” Rosalie said. She lowered herself to the ground a few feet away from her. Rosalie set the cup and the plate down and scooted it closer to Evelyn.

Evelyn looked between the food and the woman.

“You need to eat.” Rosalie’s voice was soft. Kindly.

Evelyn straightened her back and lifted her chin, giving a slight shake of the head.

“I’m not hungry.”

Rosalie let out a sigh and turned to look over at Hotch, who still slept soundly.

“Saving it for him won’t do anything for either of you,” Rosalie said, almost sadly. “Only one of you is making it out of here. I think you know which one it’s going to be.”

___

“Here, eat.” Evelyn pushed the plate of cold potatoes and toast in his direction, the cup of water sitting on top. Hotch raised an eyebrow at her. “Rosalie came in last night. Brought us some food.”

“Did you eat?” He asked her, sitting up from his sleeping position.

Evelyn nodded her head.

“Caro-“

“I ate, Hotch,” she said, a little more harshly than she meant to. “You need to keep your strength if we’re going to have a repeat of yesterday.”

Hotch almost laughed as he hooked his finger over the edge of the plate and slid it toward himself. Evelyn watched, her stomach gurgling as he took a bite out of the bread.

“Stale toast is just ravishing, isn’t it?” Evelyn asked as she leaned up against the wall he also sat against. Hotch hummed his response. He ate slowly, took a sip of water.

“How are you?” He asked.

Evelyn rolled her head against the wall to look over at him.

“Just peachy, Hotchner. How are you?”

“I’m serious. How are you doing?”

Evelyn let out a sigh, looked up at the ceiling, and closed her eyes.

“Taking it one breath at a time,” she said. “I’ll deal with the aftermath once we’re out of here.”

Evelyn looked over at him again and attempted a half-cocked smile. Hotch wasn’t smiling. He was staring at her, staring right through her smile and her outer shell of calmness and straight into her soul where her wound was, her wound that was slowly starting to heal.

“I’ll be okay, Aaron,” she said, dropping her smile. “Promise.”

Hotch nodded his head and turned away from her.

“Don’t do anything stupid today, Caro,” he told her.

“Do I ever?”

___

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” Hotch sighed as Evelyn let out a hiss of pain.

“I didn’t realize that trying to stop you from dying was considered something stupid.”

“It is when you get put in harm’s way.”

Evelyn held a strip of her shirt against her bleeding nose. Hotch rolled up his sleeves.

“We’ve got two days left here,” Hotch said, pacing back and forth in front of Evelyn.

“The team will find us,” Evelyn replied. She lowered the piece of her shirt and scrunched her nose before stretching it out again.

“I don’t doubt it.”

The sun went down sooner than Evelyn thought it would, meaning she had slept longer than she thought she had.

“You should sleep,” Hotch said.

“I’m not tired.”

“He won’t hurt you, Caro.”

The dark concealed Hotch’s face from her, even though he was only a few feet away. Evelyn shifted uncomfortably.

“I know.”

“If I don’t make it out of here-“

“Hotch, stop. We’re both going to walk out of here just fine.”

“But if I don’t, promise to take care of Jack.” Evelyn breathed in deeply, ready to shake her head and tell him again that they were going to both survive this. “Promise me.”

Instead of arguing, which she knew would get them nowhere, Evelyn nodded her head.

“I promise.”

Hotch didn’t say anything else. Evelyn didn’t sleep. The change in his breathing after a while told her that he had fallen asleep.

She didn’t know how long it was before the door creaked open. Evelyn startled and sat up straighter, gasping in a breath. But it was just Rosalie, coming down with more food. This time, she didn’t say anything. She sat right next to Evelyn and set the food between them.

“You have to eat,” she said finally.

Evelyn reached out and took the cup of water and brought it to her parched lips. She drank some, but set it down before it was finished.

“You don’t have to save it for him.”

Evelyn turned her head to look at Rosalie.

“He’s my friend. I’m not going to let him starve.”

Rosalie was quiet for a moment.

“I think he’s more than that.”

“How did you meet Jeremy?” Evelyn asked. She thought she saw a smile on Rosalie’s lips.

“I lived with my brother and his wife as their live-in nanny of sorts. Jeremy worked for them as a gardener. My father kept me locked up my entire life and when he died, my brother took over. His sister’s keeper or something. But Jeremy he…. he made me feel free and alive and seen. And so, so loved.”

Rosalie stopped there, her smile lingering for a few moments before falling.

“But he changed, didn’t he?”

Rosalie nodded her head slowly, her lower lip curling and tears starting to run down her cheeks. Evelyn just let her cry for a few moments, until the woman collected herself. She sucked in a sob and stuffed her hands full of her dress.

“He took me from my brother’s house, brought me here,” Rosalie said. “Said he needed my help.”

“He used you to lure in men that he saw as superior to himself so that he could kill them.”

Rosalie nodded again, tears still rolling from her eyes.

“I never wanted to…I tried to tell him that I love him as he is…that he doesn’t need to-“

“Rosalie, listen to me. Nothing you could ever do will convince him of that because his issues have nothing to do with you,” Evelyn said, turning to face her.

“I don’t….”

“Jeremy Lions may love you, Rosalie, but he is very sick. He is not killing people to be a better man for you, no matter what he has told you. He feels inferior so he thinks he has to kill to be superior. That’s why he wanted Hotch.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

Evelyn heaved out a breath.

“Hotchner is everything Jeremy thinks he’s lacking. Confident, strong. He’s got a high-ranking job. He’s respected by his peers. He’s good looking and has a nice home and great friends. Jeremy doesn’t think he has any of this and he wants it, which is why he wants to hurt Hotchner.”

“To take something he doesn’t think he has.”

Evelyn sucked in a breath and reached forward to take Rosalie’s hands in hers.

“No matter what you do, Rosalie, you will never be enough for him, do you understand? He has you, he has love, but that will never be enough for him.”

“No, no!” Rosalie stood up quickly. “No. Once we’re married, everything will be okay. We’ll buy a new house. Live a happy life.”

“Rosalie-“

“No! You’re wrong.”

“Rosalie….”

“You’re wrong!”

Rosalie hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Evelyn shut her eyes again. With a growl, she pounded her knuckles into the hard concrete ground.

“You okay?”

Hotch was barely awake, his voice gravelly and tired.

“I’m okay, Hotch, go back to sleep.”

He grumbled something and was soon asleep again. Evelyn could do nothing but sigh. Still, she didn’t sleep.

The next day went no better than the last. It was night again before Evelyn knew it. She sat on the ground, head between her knees. Hotch stood, leaning up against the support beam in the middle of the room.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said. Evelyn didn’t move. “Talk to me.”

“I told you, I’ll deal with it after we get out of here,” she told him, her words muffled by her knees.

Hotch walked toward her and let out a groan as he lowered himself to the ground.

“You can sleep,” he told her, his words even quieter than they were before. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

Evelyn lifted her head finally to look at him.

“That’s not why I’m not sleeping,” she said, which was partially a lie. She didn’t sleep because she needed to be aware at all times. She couldn’t risk nodding off and letting her guard down. But there was another part to it.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked her.

“I thought I was going to die alone in that house, Aaron.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Twice. I stay awake because I can’t stand the thought of dying alone. And if you die while I’m sleeping-“

Hotch reached out and took her hand in his. When she looked over at him, he was staring straight ahead, not looking at her. She let out a shaky sigh and let him lace his fingers through hers. It was all the comfort that she needed.

“You’re not going to die alone,” Hotch told her. “You’re not going to die here at all.”

Evelyn nodded and let a few of the tears in her eyes fall, grateful for the darkness to cover her face. She lowered her head slowly to his shoulder, damning all protocol to hell, if there even was protocol for maybe dying in a basement with your boss. When Hotch didn’t immediately pull away from her or shake her off his shoulder, she settled in and shut her eyes.

“You’re not dying here either,” she said. “Not if I can help it.”

For the first time in days, Evelyn slept.

She awoke to someone grabbing hold of her hand. Her first thought was that it was Hotch squeezing her in his sleep. But when she gasped and opened her eyes, she found that it was just Rosalie sitting in front of her. It was still dark outside. She thought that the woman had brought her more food, but she turned out to be wrong.

“We have to go,” Rosalie whispered. “We have to go.”

“What?”

“Shh, shh,” Rosalie put a shaking finger to her lips and pulled on Evelyn’s hand. “You were right. We have to go now.”

Rosalie pulled Evelyn to her feet, dragging her toward the door before she was even fully awake.

“Wait, stop,” Evelyn whispered, trying to shake herself awake.

“No, now! This is the only chance you have.”

Rosalie dragged Evelyn out of the basement doors and up the stairs into the house above. It wasn’t the same house that Hotch and Evelyn had been searching before, she could tell that even in the dark.

“Where are you taking me, Rosalie?”

“You have to get out of here, now! Jeremy doesn’t want to kill you, but he will,” Rosalie said, pulling her through the rundown and dirty home.

“Stop. Stop!” Evelyn dug her heels into the ground and forced Rosalie to stop. “I’m not leaving Aaron.”

“You don’t have time!” There was nothing but pure desperation in Rosalie’s voice. “Jeremy knows I left. He’s coming here. You have to go now or you’re not going at all.”

Evelyn wrenched her arm out of Rosalie’s grip.

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Jeremy will kill you.” Rosalie sounded desperate, terrified.

Evelyn shook her head and took a step backward.

“I don’t care. I’m not leaving him.” Rosalie’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Go. Call the police. Tell them where we are.”

Rosalie nodded her head.

“Go.”

Without another word, Rosalie turned around and ran from the house.

Evelyn watched her go. Her heart rate spiked when headlights flashed through the front window. All she could do for Rosalie was hope that she found some place to hide until Lions entered the house. If Lions was here, this was it. He was coming for Hotch.

Evelyn ran back to the basement as quietly as she could. She shut the basement door, hearing it lock with a heart wrenching click, just as the front door opened. She hurried down the stairs and dropped to the ground next to Hotch, startling him awake.

“What’s going on?” Hotch asked, still sounding stuck in sleep.

“Lions is here,” Evelyn whispered to him. “Rosalie is gone, she’s calling the police.”

“How-“

“We need a plan and quick,” Evelyn told him.

“We don’t know how long it will take for the police to respond,” Hotch replied quietly, his voice surprisingly calm. This might be his last few moments on earth, and he wasn’t terrified or angry or anxious. He was just calm. “All of his attention will be on me. You can escape then.”

She shook her head.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“This isn’t a time for heroics.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

Before Hotch could argue, Evelyn pushed herself to her feet.

“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, standing after her.

“Like you said, Lions’ attention will all be on you. He won’t be expecting me.”

“Caro-“

She sunk into the shadows just as the door of the basement opened. Lions trudged down the stairs, grumbling to himself.

At the bottom of the stairs, he turned toward Hotch.

“Where’s the girl?” Lions asked, his voice low and gruff.

Hotch was silent.

“Doesn’t matter,” the unsub grumbled to himself. With his back to her completely, Lions started for Hotch. Evelyn would make sure he never reached him.

She crept out from her shadows, walking toward Lions. The ever present ache in her head from when Lions knocked her out didn’t even stop her. She was silent as she moved until she was right up behind him. In one quick motion, Evelyn kicked the back of his knee, dropping him to the ground before wrapping her arm around his neck.

Lions struggled against Evelyn. He was strong and she was weak from days with little food and water as well as the head injury. But she held on as tight to his neck as she could.

Hotch ran to check the basement door, but Lions had closed it, leaving it locked.

As he did so, Evelyn was so focused on keeping her grip on Lions, that she didn’t see his hand moving toward his pocket. He pulled out a knife and rammed it into her shin. She cried out, falling back and away from Lions.

“Evelyn!”

Hotch turned away from the door and ran back toward her as Lions stumbled away. Evelyn fell back against the support beam, lowering herself to the ground as she pressed her hands against the cut on her leg.

Hotch ran toward Evelyn, but Lions intercepted him. Fire spread throughout Evelyn’s leg, dark blood seeping through her fingers. She clenched her jaw in hopes of easing the pain. Hotch and Lions tumbled, a blur of bodies that Evelyn once again couldn’t distinguish. This scene was all too familiar to her.

Hotch was trained, but he was weak. Lions relied mostly on his size and strength, but lacked any formal training. Evelyn needed to get back into the fight, that was the only way Hotch would win this.

With a groan of effort and a sharp stabbing pain shooting through her leg, Evelyn forced herself to stand. Using the support beam as her support as well, she allowed herself a few moments to breathe through the pain before lurching forward.

Lions had Hotch pinned against the wall, his arm across his chest to keep him there. Evelyn hurtled toward Lions, pushing through the pain in her leg and barreled into him. This knocked him off balance. Being unable to stop herself once she started, she and Lions tumbled over each other until they were both on the ground. Hotch started forward to help Evelyn to her feet, but Lions had an arm around her waist and the knife pressed to her neck before either of them could really react.

“Back off,” Lions said, his voice even more gruff than before. Blood dribbled down from a broken nose and he wheezed, telling Evelyn that Hotch had hit him enough times near the diaphragm to knock the wind out of him.

The cool of the metal knife pressed against Evelyn’s throat didn’t scare her. Especially when she met Hotch’s gaze. That dead calm he always put forward she now felt flow through her veins. Everything was going to be okay, she could see it in his eyes. Evelyn breathed as shallowly as she could, trying to keep her throat from extending too far into the knife.

Lions pushed himself off the ground and brought Evelyn up with him. The knife cut into the first few layers of her throat and Evelyn flinched, feel the cool of her own blood dribble down her neck. Hotch put his hands in the air, trying to show that he meant Lions no harm.

“She’s not a part of this,” Hotch said. “You know that, Lions.”

“She’s a bitch is what she is,” Lions snapped, pressing the knife harder against Evelyn’s neck.

Hotch flinched forward and Evelyn shut her eyes.

“You want me, Lions, not her.” This was the calmness that Evelyn had never understood before. Her negotiation skills had never been good. Hotch said that she was too emotional. She cared too much and it was too easy to read in her voice. But Hotch was too good at pretending not to care at all. “Let her go and I’ll go with you.”

“No, Hotch-“

“Shut up,” Lions seethed in her ear. “You don’t get to talk.”

“Is that how you treat Rosalie, huh?” Evelyn asked, her hands on his arm that held the knife to her throat. “You call her a bitch and tell her shut up?”

“Be quiet!”

Evelyn could feel blood soak into her shirt, weighing it down.

“Lions, look at me,” Hotch said, pulling his attention away from Evelyn. “You can let her go.”

Evelyn felt her wounded leg start to grow numb and her balance shifted. In not too long, she wasn’t sure that she would be able to keep herself standing upright.

The door behind them burst open and Evelyn let out a gasp. Lions flinched and loosened his grip on her just enough that she broke free from him and stumbled forward, right into Hotch.

“Jeremy Lions, drop the knife and put your hands in the air!” Emily Prentiss said, her voice deep and commanding.

Evelyn’s leg gave out, every ounce of weight put on it causing a shooting pain up and down her entire body. Hotch held her up by her arms, her back pressed against his chest. He was the only thing keeping her standing and she could barely even do that.

Lions didn’t turn around, but he put his hands up in the air.

“Rosalie did this,” he said, his voice deadly low.

“Drop the knife, Lions,” Emily said again.

“You turned her against me.” Lions shifted his angered eyes away from Hotch and onto Evelyn. “You did.”

“I don’t want to shoot you, Lions, but I will.”

“You turned her against me!”

Lions took half a step toward them, the knife now facing her. Hotch turned Evelyn away, preparing to step between them, but Emily fired a single shot, the bullet tearing right through Lions’ shoulder. He fell to the ground with a cry of pain, the knife falling out of his grip.

Evelyn, still unable to stand on her own, turned to Hotch, her neck still bleeding.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, noting the bruises on his face.

“Are you guys alright?” Emily asked, her gun trained on Lions.

“We need a medic,” Hotch said. Emily nodded her head, her eyes flickering down the cut in Evelyn’s shin and neck.

Emily relayed the information through her earpiece, as well as saying the offender was down. Evelyn stayed leaned up against Hotch, his hands clinging to her arms to keep her steady, as Emily took Lions away in handcuffs.

Morgan and Reid came running into the basement along with the paramedics.

“Evie,” Morgan stepped toward her and she just smiled.

“We’re okay,” she told him.

“Ma’am,” the paramedic said. “Let’s get you to the ambulance.”

The paramedics stepped forward, one taking hold of Evelyn. The other moved toward Hotch.

“How are you feeling?” the paramedic asked him.

“Can you make it to the ambulance?” the paramedic asked Evelyn, who nodded her head.

“I can carry you,” Morgan said, stepping forward. Evelyn let out a quiet laugh.

“I can manage on my own, Derek,” she told him. Still, he followed her and the paramedic, his hands out just in case she started to fumble.

They helped her up the stairs and she looked back at Hotch, to find that his eyes were still on her. He nodded her head and she smiled at him.

The pain that flared throughout Evelyn’s leg was white hot, but with the paramedic taking most of her weight and Morgan just behind her, Evelyn was able to make it to through the house and to the ambulance without letting a single tear fall from her eye.

Hotch came out of the house a few minutes later, the paramedic still trying to get him to sit for a moment while Reid filled him in on everything they missed in the case.

“I’d like to speak with Rosalie,” Hotch said.

“She’s over here,” Reid said.

Hotch tried not to look over at the ambulance where he knew Evelyn was. He still had a job to do and he couldn’t focus on that if all he could think about was whether or not she was okay. He knew she was okay. She was always okay.

Rosalie sat in the back of one of the cop cars, her eyes closed and silent tears running down her cheeks. Hotch popped open the door, but she didn’t look at him.

“Is he alive?” she asked.

“He’ll survive,” Hotch told her. Rosalie let out a shaky breath and slowly opened her eyes. “Why did you help us?”

“I didn’t help you,” she said, looking away from him and toward the ambulance. “I helped Evelyn.”

Hotch scowled.

“She loves you, you know?”

Her words startled him and Hotch felt ice run through his blood.

“What?”

“She loves you. I gave her food at night but she’d only eat part of it, saved the rest for you. And last night I came to take her somewhere safe before Jeremy came back to kill you, but she refused to leave. I almost had her out of that house, but she ran back in. For you.”

Hotch looked down at his feet. He didn’t really expect anything less of Evelyn Caro. She always put everyone’s lives above her own. He shouldn’t expect her to act any different toward him.

But anger still bubbled up inside of him. She could have gotten herself killed and for what? She should have left him there and ran to get help. She should have….

“You better be damn sure you’re worth it.” Rosalie’s words were venom and Hotch could feel their sting deep in his blood.

Hotch shut the door, leaving Rosalie to her silence and grief. He turned to look at the ambulance, just as Morgan was stepping into the back. The paramedic shut the door, closing Hotch off from Evelyn. The siren started to blare, and the ambulance rolled out of the driveway.

“They’re taking her to the hospital,” Prentiss said, walking over to him. Hotch nodded his head. “Lost too much blood to just let her come back with us.”

“She kept antagonizing him,” Hotch said as he placed his hands on his hips. “If she had just let me go with him-“

“Caro was protecting you, sir,” Prentiss said. He looked at her, scowl deepening. “She knew that as soon as Lions had you, he would kill you. She had to make sure that didn’t happen.”

Hotch watched the ambulance as it drove away, the sirens ringing.

He never got the chance to ask if she was okay.

___

Evelyn lay back in her bed at the hotel, staring at the ceiling. A bandage wrapped around her leg and it itched, making it impossible for her to sleep. There was something else keeping her awake. Her mind reeled, the last few days playing over and over in her head. Trapped in a room with Hotch for days on end was the perfect time to talk to him about all the things that were bothering her, but even then, she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t even know where to begin because she didn’t even know what she was feeling anyway.

Sitting up with a huff, Evelyn glowered into the darkness. She threw off her blankets that were making her too hot, lowering herself onto the ground and landing on her good leg. She hobbled over to her discarded clothes and threw them back on.

Air was what she needed. A breath of fresh air. And then she’d be okay. She could go back to pretending that everything was fine and normal, like she always did.

As she pulled a coat onto her shoulders, she opened the door and froze.

Hotch was standing there, wearing a broken down version of his usual suit. His tie and jacket were discarded, his shirt buttoned up sloppily. She wondered if he had ever even gone to bed. And he was standing in front of her door, his hand not even raised to knock. He was just standing there.

He looked at her with wide eyes, shocked to find her there.

“Um, hi,” Evelyn said, dropping her hand from the doorknob.

“I just wanted to check to see how you were doing,” Hotch said.

“Hotch, it’s like three in the morning.”

He looked down at his hands. He was actually fidgeting. Something had made him motivated enough to come here, but nervous enough not to knock.

“I know. I can go-“

“No, wait.” He froze. “I never got to ask if you were okay.”

Hotch nodded his head.

“I’m okay.”

“Good.”

They stood there in silence. Evelyn felt her throat tighten every time she wanted to say something. Hotch wouldn’t look at her. The silence seemed to drag on for eternity before Hotch finally broke it.

“I talked to Rosalie, after everything, and she said something,” Hotch said. Evelyn finally put her eyes on him.

“What…what did she say?”

There were a thousand terrible things that Evelyn could think of that the woman could have possibly said to land her standing in front of her boss at three in the morning.

“She said that you had a chance to leave that house and you came back,” he told her. Evelyn straightened her back. This was going to be a lecture, she could just feel it coming. She just didn’t know why it couldn’t wait until morning. “Why?”

Evelyn scowled and looked at the ground, her hand still on the door.

“Why?” She repeated. “Because I couldn’t leave you there.”

“You should have.”

Evelyn felt her temper begin to rise. What was it with this man?

“A ‘thank you for saving my life’ would suffice,” she said, her tone harsh. “If I hadn’t come back, Lions would have killed you. From where I’m standing, I made the right decision.”

“And got yourself hurt in the process.”

“I’ll survive.” Hotch fell quiet again. “Listen, Aaron, if you’ve come to pick a fight, I think it can wait until morning.”

Evelyn took a step back and started to close the door, but Hotch lifted his hand and stopped it from closing. She looked over at him, jaw tightened, and found him staring back at her.

“I’m not here to pick a fight with you,” he said.

“Then why did you come?”

She could see the question rattling around in his brain, as if he had been asking himself that very same question ever since he left his room.

“I’m sick of this, Aaron,” she said finally, when he didn’t answer. “I’m sick of neither of us being able to say what we really mean. I’m sick of running in circles around each other. Just tell me why you came here.”

“I came to make sure you’re okay.”

“Mission accomplished then. I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She started to close the door again and this time he didn’t stop her.

“Rosalie also said you loved me.”

Evelyn froze, the door almost shut so she couldn’t see his face anymore. Which was good because it meant that he also couldn’t see hers and the fear that was etched into every feature. Her breathing became heavy, like every breath took so much more work. She closed her eyes, and slowly started to open the door again.

“Rosalie said that?” Hotch nodded his head once. “Did you believe her?”

He was quiet for a moment, letting out a long but quiet sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a profiler. Tell me, what do you think?”

He took a while to answer.

“I think you’re a deeply compassionate person who cares for the team. I think you would give your life for any one of us in a heartbeat.” Evelyn looked down at her feet and Hotch tried to follow her eyes with his. “I know that you would never do anything to jeopardize the dynamics of this team because we’ve become your family.”

“Okay.”

“So, I don’t know how much of what you say and do is because the team is your family and how much is because-“

“-I love you.”

The words came from her mouth like any other fact would. She had known it for so long, never said it, not even to herself, but she knew it. And she managed to say it so casually. She was just completing his sentence after all.

Hotch stood still, as if trying to decide whether or not she was finishing what he was saying or confessing. He searched her eyes, but she stayed motionless. It was time he figured things out for himself, she decided. They’d both spent so long trying to figure the other out, it was high time someone just made the first move.

“When you were at Ralph Bennet’s house,” he said finally, “I had these horrible dreams about finding you there already dead. I was too late to save you.”

Evelyn could have sworn there were tears glimmering in his eyes.

“You did though, Aaron. You did save me.”

“But was I too late?” He asked. “Did I wait too long for…everything else?”

“What do you want, Aaron?” Her voice was just at a whisper, her hand still on the door.

It was the last time she would ask. This was the last time and then she’d let it go, let him go. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life, however short that might be, pining after one man.

Hotch surprised her then. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t try to talk. Talking was clearly getting him nowhere. Everything he said somehow came out wrong. Instead, he took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. Putting a hand to her cheek, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

His answer was clear. It took her a few moments to over come her shock, but when she did, she reached out to grab hold of his shirt collar, pulling him in closer.

She pulled him into her room and shut the door, leaving the hallway empty and quiet.

Her room was still dark as he moved her backward, his hands never leaving her. He thought he had lost her. But here she was, with him, and that’s all he needed.

“You,” he whispered against her skin. “Just you.”

Every raging fire that made up Evelyn Caro met the calm seas that built Aaron Hotchner, burning and boiling and soothing in every possible way.

He kissed her lips, her bruised cheek bone, her jaw. His hands rested against the side of her neck, gently though, so as not to irritate her wound. She tugged at his wrinkled shirt, trying to pull him closer.

Hotch knew this was breaking protocol. But he left behind every rule in the book when he left his room two hours ago. Every inch of contact with her made his stomach twist, every time her teeth grazed his lip made his heart pound. For so long he had wanted her and for so long he had pretended otherwise. He was so, so tired of pretending.

He was pulling off her shirt and she didn’t stop him and he didn’t stop himself, but he couldn’t. He just needed all of her.

Evelyn gasped, her intake of breath so sharp that Hotch pulled away. She breathed raggedly, her chest rising and falling.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes moving to her neck.

Consumed by her, he had forgotten the shape she was in. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her.

“I’m not that fragile,” she told him. There was a smug look on her face, her lips twitched up into a smile.

Hotch leaned forward to kiss that smile, soft and gentle. His hands dropped to her waist and he kissed her again. He intended to pull away, leave her be for the night, but every time he tried, he came back to her like a magnet.

Evelyn had just as hard as a time keeping away from him. His calloused hands were grazing over her sides, her waist, her stomach, her back. Her hands were trembling as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Her heart pounded like a drum beat in her chest, so hard that she could hear it in her ears and it made her hands shake.

She expected him to stop her, to realize what he was doing and take her hands a politely decline, but when the last button came undone, he pulled away from just long enough to take the shirt off himself.

Hotch put his lips back on hers as soon as he could. Evelyn smiled against his kiss.

As if she had burned him, he suddenly stepped away, leaving Evelyn leaning against the wall, heaving for breath. He stared at her, his own breath ragged, his dark eyes smoldering.

“Is something…did I…?”

Shame pooled in Evelyn’s cheeks, making them burn. There she was, completely and utterly exposed, barely able to stand well enough on her own to scurry away.

“You’ve had a very hard year, Evelyn,” he said.

She tilted her head to the side and looked at the ground, locking her jaw.

“Hotch….”

“And I can’t take advantage of-“

“Aaron!” She said with a laugh, forcing him to look at her. “I’m fine. This is fine, more than fine.”

“Is it what you want?” he asked.

She gave a small smile and heaved out a sigh.

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said. “Have I ever done anything I haven’t wanted to?”

Lifting a hand, she curled her finger, beckoning for him. He stepped toward her until he was just a breath away.

“I’ll tell you if I need to stop,” she said to him, just above a whisper.

Evelyn reached up and kissed him again. It took him a few moments to respond, but once he accepted what she said, he leaned into her.

He placed a hand on her chest, right over her heart.

And for once, in a very, very long time, that wound in her soul didn’t feel so gaping.

[vetrubius]

UKAIXFEMREADER!

Ukai responding to you saying  "c*m inside me"

Word Count: 1,408

A/N: hEMLOI moi babies, I got an amazing response on DaichixFemReader, I’m so glad so I kinddddd of decided to spice it up for Ukai. I, in no way support toxic relationships. And I wrote it extra long so y’all can feel extra ;)) i haven't proof read this bc its 4 am and im max tired, so i apologise in advance. ALSO DARK ACADEMIA PERSONNA IS JUST SO 😩

Warnings: SMUT, ANGST, toxic relationships, crying, trauma, smoking, alcohol, slight fluff (interact only if you’re 18+), breeding kink

It was like every other afternoon, you by the balcony watching the rain fall on the lane below. Single men with their cigarettes in hands, couples with their arms intertwined under the same umbrella, the cigarette shop where a group of high school boys hung around. The balcony had always been your safe space. It was one of the ways you’d met Keinshin Ukai. 

 You two had accidentally made an eye contact. You, on your balcony and him, near the shop. He’d adored you the second he’d laid his eyes on you; draped in a white lace tunic and grey shorts which reached your knees. The darkest shade of lipstick which you wore with your hair down, made you look as if you were an angel which arrived right in front of him. 

Since then, he’d be there promptly at 7 pm and you at the balcony having many unspoken conversations between the two of you.

You’d run out of cigarettes one morning while you were on your way to your publishing house.You’d always been an avid reader with bottomless thirst for content. It was a good day, you had a meeting with the board head. After putting on a jacket on your mauve camisole, you’d run across the cigarette shop to find your favourites. Had it not been that morning, your numbers would never have been exchanged and future dates wouldn’t have been made for the same evening. 

-----flashback-----

The room was heavy with the smell of cigarettes and weed as you popped another bottle of wine.

 “I did not take you to be a reader,” Ukai said, taking a puff and keenly maintaining eye contact. 

“And I sir, did not take you for a shopkeeper AND a coach” you said,  smirking and pouring in  his empty glass.

“Well, I do love those boys plus that teacher is very...persuasive?,” he said with a slight cringe and looking u0p. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s very amazing and managed to land us a match with a lot of great teams but he’s very weird, but a good kinda weird you know?”.

 Nah you didn’t know. You were too busy admiring him. Of course you were a little young for him but he was too attractive for his age. The blonde with his brown sideburns and three piercings. He looked so sinful. 

It dawned on him how you’d been staring at him. And he’d sensed the high tension in the room that was enough to devour the two of you. And that’s when he leaned in slightly, holding the side of your face in your hand. “I know you’ve been wanting me sweetheart. I do too,” he said  brushing his lips with yours. “And I think I may fall in love with you this way. The way you’re in my hands right now makes me feel like I'm on an ecstasy high.” 

Your lips met and kissed you like it was the last time he was gonna kiss you. Like you were Persephone in the arms of Hades and you were gonna fly away. 

You somehow knew. You knew this was it. You were gonna fall so hard for this man. This high felt like you’d finally reached what you wanted and you realised it was gonna hurt you if he ever left. 

-----Present-----

“BUT I’M TIRED OF NOT SEEING YOU FOR SO MANY DAYS, JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE GOING WITH THE KIDS DOESN’T MEAN YOU DON’T SEE ME! 

AM THEY MORE IMPORTANT THAN I AM?” a sludge of tears and mascara flowing down your face with your bra strap sliding off your arm. It had been too frustrating for you. You’d been missing him to the point you’d wear his remaining scent. You’d stayed up nights wishing you’d hear the door unlock. It was too painful for you.And he refused to understand that. 

“You’re fucking overreacting. I’m leaving. I’ll come home after a few days.” he said  extinguishing his cigarette on the ivory ashtray you got for his 29th birthday and picking his gym bag up. 

“I HOPE YOU NEVER FUCKING COME BACK-” you shouted as he headed for the door. “I think…….. this is it. We’re done.” You said  slipping on the floor in a puddle of sobs. This was toxic. You had to leave him. But it was so heavy for you. You could never do that. He was your soulmate after all. 

You hear the door shut. 

Your fragile heart splits into pieces. Is that it? This is how we end? Your thoughts kept running as fast as a marathon, too fast for you to process. 

“It’s fine. I don’t need him anyway. You say  turning the lights off of the bathroom and slipping in the empty bathtub and shutting your eyes and being enveloped by sleep. 

.

.

.

You felt a hand pat on your head and a bright light in front of you. “Hey sweetheart…”

It didn’t even take a second for you to go on defensive mode and whack his hand off you.

“I miss you. I know what I do is wrong. I know I don’t give you time. I know how much this means to you. I’m sorry. Just a little  more, okay? Then I’ll be all yours and I’ll be proud to call the boys ours. I love you, Y/N. I can’t imagine my life witho-”

That’s all it takes for him everytime. Just opening his stupid mouth and you’re off to sprint to his arms. Fucking moron. 

“I still hate you” you said between the kisses and pulling his hoodie off. You wanted him. That’s all you cared about. You wanted to hurt him but no matter what, you couldn’t. “I hate that you make me feel this way. But I love you more and this is your last chance. Make me happy or I leave.”

He whooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bed “And why would I let you leave? You’re mine.” He said  keeping you and hovering on top of you with his biceps bulging. Amd slowly kissing your face, jaw and neck

“You’re the greatest thing that has happened to me, I’ll never let you go Y/N” Ukai said as his lips were dangerously close to your cleavage. 

He spent a good 30 minutes between your thighs like a lapdog. Licking up any blessing you had to offer. His eye contact never breaking, his fingers working their ways through your pussy, his tongue overstimulating your clit. “I know you like this, my love. It’s been twice in 35 minutes I think my dick needs a little bit of it too.” He said getting up and unbuckling himself. Your eyes now watery with the overstimulation and throat dried up. 

“I want a baby….I want a reason for you to come home to if not me.” You said rasply. 

‘What do you mean, sweets? Can you elaborate on the making baby part?”

“I want you to come inside me. Tonight.” 

He grabbed your thighs mercilessly and shoved himself inside. “Whatever she wants, she gets. I’m gonna fuck you until you’re dripping and then make sure that the mini us knows how much I love you and you’re worth coming home to both of you.” he whispered in your ear. 

He gave you a few seconds to adjust to him inside you. “M-mmmoveEE PLEASE” you whined against his shoulder. Without losing a single second, you felt your body split. You knew he’d been abstaining from sex. But this feeling was so overwhelming to both of you. 

The air was filled with moans, squelches and the mix of smell of cigarettes and lavender. You felt him speed up. Missionary had always been a weak spot for Keishin. Your mouth drooling over your cheeks, your eyes half shut, your body limping and the way your boobs bounced under you. it has always been a turn on for him. 

You felt him speed up. His name falling out of your mouth as you were blinded by the speed he was going at. “I….I’M COMING BABE” you grind your thighs through as his walls white wash you inside. 

He climbed off of you to adore your cunt stuffed with his cream, dripping on the white sheet with a light brown floral pattern. 

“I love you, Y/N. Don’t ever think I don’t wanna come home and not see you. You’re the only thing I have.”

series masterlist

[crash-cinematic-universe]

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 

1. 

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 

“That would be nice,” He said softly. 

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 

2. 

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

3. 

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

 “What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.” 

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 

 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

4.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

5.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

[elysianslove]

hi eli bby !! its me vio again shhshf

i loved ur vball player crush hcs w miya twins && suna and can i have that too w sakusa, semi && shirabu ? MY UNDERRATED BOYS CRIES SM <//3 thank u sm <33

hiiiii my love!!! tysm for requesting these boys i love them so much. i hope you like this lysm <3

sakusa kiyoomi 

considering what i’ve seen in the anime, and some manga panels, i really don’t think omi’s a peoples person. so even in school, i doubt he was very involved with other students, and probably kept to himself 

he’s also hyper-aware of his surroundings constantly, including the people around him, so the fact that he noticed you wasn’t a shock

it’s that he noticed you, and then he couldn’t stop thinking about you

probably had some dream about you that same night that cursed him with a crush on you yk the dreams i’m talking about right? 

he still continues to keep to himself, and whenever he spots you from his peripheral vision he just dashes out of there. he realizes that forcing himself to act normally around you might actually improve his situation and help him get over whatever this stupid crush was but he was not taking any chances

he also knew nothing about you, just your last name! 

so anyways both the boys and girls vbc’s are heading the same school, so they got one bus for the both of you and combined them. 

because his general dislike for crowds, omi usually sits out in the front, especially because the door to the bus is right next to him. idk he just seems like the kind to map out an escape plan for every room/vehicle he enters i don’t have a reason why i think so

the game was happening on a weekend, really early, like way too early, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were tired. it’s an unspoken rule that those who sit in the back make a lotta noise and all that, so you opted for the front seats instead to at least try and rest a bit before the game

you don’t sit directly next to him, but there’s only an aisle separating the two of you

because, yk, manners, you give him a small smile before saying, “good morning!” and settling in your seat, your bag between your legs

omi on god freezes up lmfao

he doesn’t mean to sound so rude but it just comes out that way! he says something along the lines of “what are you doing here?” and immediately regrets it after it leaves his lips. he visibly cringes 

but instead of being thrown off, you just laugh, and sakusa curses everything behind his mask because holy shit were you gorgeous and wow was his stomach just somersaulting 

not a nice feeling 

you explain to him briefly that you’re on the vbc and you were heading to play the girls of the same school he was gonna play against and all that, and he just hums and nods and tries to ignore the thump thump thump of his heart 

you don’t really interact during the bus ride going to, it’s coming back that you do 

you tell him that you managed to glimpse the last bit of his game, where he was landing a spike, and you complimented his skills and pointed out his freakish wrist move 

he noted that he didn’t get to see you play and your brain went opportunity! 

you go “well maybe you should come to one of my dates” like the absolute smooth talker you are 

omi just hums and goes “i’ll see” 

absolutely is there lol

the development into a relationship is more implicit than explicit. the two of you don’t announce to the world, but honestly, neither do you do it to yourselves. like you’d been on a coffee date with him at some point and your parent or sibling texted something you found funny and mentioned him as your boyfriend and you showed it to him and he was like

hm

am i your boyfriend 

like idk am i your girlfriend 

he said yeah obviously 

i love this boy so fucking much pleaseeeee

but yes just as your development into a couple is subtle, so is your overall relationship. and honestly? you wouldn’t have it any other way

semi eita

omg pretty setter semi eeee

so yk how shiratorizawa students live in dorms? there’s no way semi hasn’t noticed you before, even if it’s separate dorms for different genders. like you two probably come across each other every once in a while at a vending machine or something, and exchange a word or two 

it’s not until when semi starts to look forward to seeing you, or when he gets disappointed every time you don’t make an appearance, that he realizes, you know, he’s kinda developed a liking to you

he doesn’t really know much about you, aside your name and your favorite go-to snack from the vending machine, so he’s left a little frustrated at the lack of interactions you two have. like he’s just living off that small laugh of acknowledgment and the hi, hope you sleep well! you know? like he wants more from you. he wants to get to know you

he can’t seem to ever see you in school either, because the stars hate him that much and don’t wanna align for the two of you, not even a little to share one class with him. just one

it’s just his luck, though, when a busy weekend for all the sports teams comes along, and each sport is sectioned off to a bus. volleyball boys and girls in one bus, swimming boys and girls in one bus, etc. 

he really doesn’t expect it when you get on the bus, because what the fuck you play volleyball??? and then he really doesn’t expect it when you recognize him, gasp and grin, and wave at him, and go over to sit by him

his brain’s short-circuiting 

you immediately start conversation as you’re setting your bag down like “i didn’t know you played volleyball!”

and he laughs and nods like “i didn’t know you did either” 

it’s honestly a really cute and satisfying moment like okay maybe the stars were just taking their time aligning thank you universe 

the two of you click immediately. like annoyingly so. you have so much in common, and you spend the entire ride chatting excitedly about everything and semi’s wishing he’d just asked you to hang out way sooner, like as early as the first time you’d met at that vending machine 

the girls’ games finish a lot later than the boys, so he comes and watches you play, and is enamored by you, completely. in his head he’s just ‘this girl just keeps growing more perfect.’

he walks back with you to the bus, and sits next to you as well. when you arrive back at the school, you don’t immediately go to your dorms, and he suggests grabbing a refreshing drink from somewhere nearby

it’s incredible how you still have so much to talk about 

the time passes really quick with him

it’s while you’re having that drink with him, probably iced tea or boba or something, he tells you about his small passion for music, and you make him promise to play you something at some point. he loops his pinky with yours :)

he also confides in you about having been replaced on his last year, and how he tries not to let it affect him but he really can’t help him. from then on, after each of your practices, you invite him in your gym, and have him set to you, just so you both have an excuse to spend time with each other, and so that he gets to practice and play the way he really wants to, without any restrictions placed upon him and no one waiting to take his place

i think as a couple you’d probably really bring out the best in each other, and you’re constantly always, always there for each other. really, really reliant and supportive as partners, you know? 

you go to all his games, and whenever he’s pitched in, you scream his name the loudest and cheer him on so much. one look at your face, and he’s reminded of who he is and why he does what he does, and he’s immediately grounded aw <3

shirabu kenjirō

omg shirabu with a crush 🥺🤲🏼 i love it when characters seem so cold and standoffish but as soon as they’re around the people they care about they do a 180. that’s shirabu 100%

he really, really, really liked you. like it was embarrassing at this point. he totally denied it every time anyone even thought it, and he really tried his hardest not to be obvious around you

i like to think he saw you around school and that’s how it developed a little, but maybe you were friends with some of the vbc boys because of your shared interest in the sport, and you come to play with them sometimes after practice, he’d just never be there

but one time you walked in and he was like guess im not leaving 

he was a little starstruck at the fact that you played volleyball. he honestly wouldn’t care, but it sorta felt nice that there really was something that you two had in common

and you were good. at everything. you received semi and ushijima’s serves, and goshiki’s and ōhira’s spikes, perfectly, and reacted to tendō’s blocks so well, and hit his tosses just right. you were incredible. maybe your skills were magnified from his specific lens, but there really was no denying you were skilled 

damn this. all this. 

especially any time you’d spike his toss and give him a really wide smile and say, “nice toss!” like seriously the way his heart’s spasming cannot be healthy what the fuck 

and then he finds out the girls are sharing a bus with them, and then you walk in

and then you walk towards him

obviously, outwardly he looks unimpressed and unfazed but trust, his palms are sweaty as fuck 

before the bus moves, you stand by his seat and make small talk with him about volleyball, before you realize the bus is moving and you have to sit down, but you’re still in the middle of a conversation with him, so you just sit next to him and continue like nothing happened

he just. allows it. 

the school you’d been going to had a really big court where both the girls and boys were playing in the same gymnasium on opposite sides of the court, so when you arrived and changed and all, you were like “wanna warm up together” couple goals <3

pls semi, taichi and tendō would probably tease the fuck out of him lmfao. he’d just glare at them but he has such a big blush on his cheeks as he stretches and warms up with you that the glare is completely ineffective 

you go to sit next to him on the bus ride home, but the day’s exhaustion catches up to you, plus the bus’s movements are lulling you, so you end up falling asleep on his shoulder, and when shirabu first notices that you’d actually fallen asleep, he looks down at you with such a dreamy and awestruck face. goshiki took a picture and likes to torment him with it. shirabu has it as his lockscreen now lol 

as your boyfriend, he’s the exact same. very standoffish to everyone outwardly but to you? it’s a different story. 

nonetheless it’s not very obvious. so yes, he will have a scowl on his face as he tells you off, but his lips are slightly upturned and there’s a little pink shade on his cheeks that show just how endearing he thinks you are 

really loves to practice with you because he loves seeing you in your zone like that. also you look hot

anyways yes he’s such a cutie i will not take criticism 

[ticklishfiend]

Man, I always feel awkward doing these, lol. Hello! I found your work recently and really love what I've read so far! As I notice your prompts are open at the moment, if you're up for it, I'd love to see a Shinsou/Deku fic. Platonic or romantic, I don't have a preference. I just love those two together so dang much. Keep up the great work! ^^

A/N : aaa omg ok i absolutely LOVE ur blog and all ur fics, tysm for sending in a prompt!! also, this is a little longer than originally intended and i wrote it in a night so hopefully it isn't too dogshit LMAOO and pls keep in mind that this is my very first time writing for shinsou, so im not 100% sure what im doing lol <33 anyways, i rlly hope you enjoy!!

Patterned Socks (My Hero Academia)

Ship : Lee!Midoriya / Ler!Shinsou 

Summary : Shinsou is nervous after inviting Izuku over to his room, as he only just realized his crush on the green-haired boy a few weeks prior. But when Izuku shows up in full All Might attire, Shinsou can't help but tease the boy to the point of new discoveries.

Word Count : 3494

REBLOGS ARE ALWAYS GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33

. . .

Shinsou couldn’t help but feel a little...nervous. It wasn’t like he and Izuku had never hung out before, the freckled boy had invited Shinsou to hang out multiple times with his own group of friends, and it always made the usually kept-to-himself boy feel surprisingly loved and thought about. He’d even had a sleepover with Izuku and his friends before, and he couldn’t say it wasn’t fun for him, as he honestly had a great time, it was just...this was going to be his and Midoriya’s first time hanging out...alone.

Being alone with Izuku shouldn’t make him feel this nervous, this bubbly, this giddy. But it did. The boy with the mop of green mess on his head wasn’t even in Shinsou’s fucking room yet and somehow the teen with eye bags deeper than the ocean itself was more than wide awake with the nerves zooming through his system. He couldn’t help it though. Not after his realization weeks ago that, ‘oh shit, maybe I actually have a crush on this little nerd.’

So here Shinsou was, sitting cross-legged with a straight posture in the middle of his bed like a fucking lunatic, twiddling his thumbs and picking at his fingers like he was minutes away from taking the biggest exam of his life, when the only thing he had to currently expect was that timid, awkward kid from Class-1A to knock on his door and hang out with him for a few hours-

Knock! Knock!

“Hey, it’s Midoriya! I’m here, sorry if I’m late!” the muffled voice from behind the bedroom door was unmistakable, and somehow it made Shinsou’s heart stop for just a moment from nerves.

‘Fucking pull yourself together!’ Shinsou thought to himself as he slid off his bed, wiping his sweaty hands against the soft and linted fabric of his plaid pajama pants. ‘You’re acting like he’s here to murder you! You’re just a couple of friends hanging out, you’re making this a way bigger deal than it needs to be!’

“You’re fine, just one sec,” Shinsou spoke nonchalantly as he made his way towards the full length mirror propped up next to his closet. He hated that he actually cared enough to look at himself, to make sure he looked good, but not too good to have Izuku think he was trying to impress him or anything, even if he WAS trying to impress him, but just not-

“Okie dokie! Take your time!” Izuku giggled, and Shinsou swore all the sweat he had JUST wiped off his gross, clammy hands had just pooled right back to his palms at that adorable little sound. That stupid fucking giggle was going to be the death of him, he just knew it.

With a sigh of frustration at himself, Shinsou finally made his way towards his door, giving himself one last peek at his mirror over his shoulder before whipping his head back around and opening the door as nonchalantly as someone could perform the action.

As the door swung open, Shinsou was greeted by the sweetest smile a person could probably ever muster, the boy in front of him lifting a bag up towards the boy’s face with a giggle.

“I brought gummy worms,” Midoriya chuckled shyly, scratching the back of his neck. Shinsou couldn’t help the small tinge of endearment his eyebrows gave before trying to go back to his stoic, edgy persona, giving the boy a small smirk.

“Of course you did,” he snickered, opening the door wider to let the boy inside. “Sit your stuff wherever, I don’t mind. Just put your shoes by the door,” Shinsou shut the door behind them once he saw that Izuku was fully inside, already sitting his stuff down by the bed.

“Oh sure, no problem,” Midoriya nodded towards Shinsou, making his way back towards the door as he carefully slipped his signature red sneakers off to sit by the doorframe. Shinsou finally sat back down on his own bed, but never stopped watching the boy go about his room. It was Midoriya’s first time visiting the boy’s room, and to Shinsou it just felt so...odd, seeing him actually in here, being able to look at everything he had up on his walls and the little messes scattered around his floor. He felt almost a little insecure.

It was a colder Saturday, and it seemed Midoriya had no other plans besides hanging out with the purple-headed teen, as Shinsou saw that he was sporting a worn-out hoodie with All Might’s face adorning the front that he’s probably had for God knows how long, and some oversized pajama pants that were decorated to look like All Might’s own hero suit. He was such a fucking fanboy, even when he was trying to be comfortable. It was...it was too fucking cute.

Once Izuku had finished the business with his shoes, he made his way over to Shinsou’s bed, joining the boy on the small mattress as he climbed on top. Shinsou was sat on the front of his bed, his back against his pillows, while Midoriya had chosen to sit at the end of the bed, his legs outstretched so his feet were just about a foot away from Shinsou’s own crossed legs. Midoriya looked at Shinsou with a smile.

“So...what’cha wanna do?” Midoriya asked, propping his body up with his arms behind his back, tilting his head to the side at his question. Shinsou sucked on his teeth in thought, letting out a small “Hmm…” before scanning Midoriya up and down subconsciously. His eyes made his way down to the boy's feet propped in front of him, his eyebrows quirking at the sight before a grin stretched across his face. His head was tilted downwards towards the boy’s feet as his eyes wandered back upwards towards Midoriya’s eyes, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Are you for real right now?” Shinsou asked playfully, his eyes glancing back down towards the boy’s socks before looking back up into Midoriya’s eyes, who looked a little confused. “You even wear All Might socks?!”

Midoriya’s eyes widened a bit at Shinsou’s realization, his hand slapping at his own mouth to cover the smile etching across his face from embarrassment. His cheeks were just faintly flushed, but it was enough to make Shinsou chuckle in endearment.

“I didn’t even realize!” Midoriya muffled behind the palm of his hand a giggle escaping that made Shinsou’s brain short circuit for just a second before coming back down to reality, shaking his head with a snicker of fondness. “I wear these all the time…”

“You are unbelievable, Midoriya,” Shinsou chuckled, before gently cupping the underside of Izuku’s heel and raising it up closer to his own face. Midoriya let out a small gasp, his leg jerking just slightly from surprise, but not so much for Shinsou to lose his grasp. Where Shinsou had gained the slight confidence to take such an action, the edgy teen had no clue. But Midoriya honestly seemed to be...liking the attention? The smile was evident, even behind the palm of his hand, and even though his eyes were wide and cautious, they looked daringly into Shinsou’s own, almost asking him to make a bolder move without needing to say a word. Though really, the smile was more than enough to agg Shinsou on even further. Who was he to deny this cutie the attention he so obviously wanted?

Shinsou’s grasp on Izuku’s heel tightened a bit, enough to make Midoriya stiffen, now both of his hands going up to cup at his mouth and keep himself quiet, almost like he was trying to keep himself from protesting. Shinsou gazed at Izuku’s cute, flushed face one more time before looking back down at the socked foot in his hand, taking note of the design on the sole. It was decorated in different cartoon All Might designs. One of his face, one of his signature catchphrase “I AM HERE!”, one of his full body hero suit, and one of just his trademark bunny-like hair. Shinsou grinned at this, deciding to make his own little game out of the designs.

“So you wear these socks a lot?” Shinsou asked with a teasing tilt of his head, looking back up to Midoriya without moving the boy’s foot an inch. Izuku raised one eyebrow in slight confusion before nodding his head. Shinsou hummed with a nod, his eyes wandering back down to the sock. “So if I were to poke at...this spot here…” Shinsou brought a finger up from his free hand to the sock, his nail just barely scratching at one of the cartoons on the sole of Izuku’s foot. Izuku jerked at the sensation, a small yip muffled by his hands still being heard by the purple-haired boy teasing him near to death, much to Shinsou’s amusement. “...could you tell me which design it was?”

Shinsou continued his gentle wiggling of one finger, but it was just enough to get Izuku tittering behind his hand, one eye squeezed shut as the other glared at the boy. Izuku gave him no response, however, only pulling at his leg slightly when Shinsou scratched over particularly sensitive areas that made him let out louder snickers than others. Shinsou playfully tisked with a shake of his head.

“Not gonna play my game, huh? I thought you wanted to do something fun, Midoriya,” Shinsou just sighed with a smile, a small evil glint shining in his eyes that gave Izuku goosebumps and made his own eyes widen in...fear? Giddiness? Excitement? “Fine. New game,” Shinsou grinned wickedly before snatching up both of Midoriya’s feet and locking them by their ankles in between one of his elbows. Midoriya let out a loud gasp of shock, before playfully tugging at his feet as if he wanted to escape. They both knew it was all just for show. “Try to stay quiet.”

Midoriya’s eyes widened before immediately slamming shut at the teasingly ticklish sensations that danced across his left socked foot. Shinsou scraped at the sole slowly, using only his first three fingers to do so, but good fucking God was it effective. Midoriya’s hands seemed to be glued to his mouth at this point, almost squeezing at his cheeks to try to keep quiet, though the muffled titters did not go unnoticed by the tickling teen before him.

“Aww, whatsa matter, Midoriya?” Shinsou teased with a small grin, his fingers edging their way upwards towards the bottoms of his toes, curling into the spot he knew to be sensitive on himself which only made Izuku shriek behind his hands. “Don’t tell me you’re ticklish~”

Izuku shook his head, though the way his body was practically vibrating under Shinsou spoke volumes. “Oh, you aren’t, huh? You’re not ticklish? Not even a teensie weensie bit?”

Izuku once again shook his head, the slow and gentle tickles provided by Shinsou giving Izuku just enough leeway to lie his way through this playful torment with only tiny titters and snickers. But the moment he felt his toes being pulled back by the side of Shinsou’s hands, both of his eyes shot open in excited fear.

“Well that just won’t do, now will it? I’m a pretty convincing guy, though, so maybe we can change that up a bit,” Shinsou grinned before scratching the nail of his thumb into Midoriya’s now stretched out toes, and Izuku couldn’t hold back anymore. The boy let out a stream of giggles behind one hand, his other now shooting down to clutch at his belly.

“AHAHA! Wahahait! Nohoho!” Izuku’s eyes squeezed shut, throwing himself back to lay flat on the bed, both of his hands moving up to cover his now terribly blushing face. Shinsou snickered, incredibly amused at the boy’s intense cuteness. “I’m sohohorreheheehe!”

“Aw, you’re sorry? For what?” Shinsou chuckled before raking all four of his fingers down the sole of Izuku’s socked foot, the boy letting out a yelp at the change before dissolving back into his adorable stream of giggles.

“I dohohon’t knohohohow!” Izuku shook his head, his feet just barely pulling at Shinou’s grasp out of pure bodily instinct. Shinsou just smiled fondly, chuckling a little in amusement. The purple-haired teen zeroed in on one particular spot right under the ball of Midoriya’s foot, the poor boy under him letting out a small shriek before arching his back at the sensation, shaking his head wildly.

“Ohoho, this a good spot, Midoriya? Right here?” Shinsou scratched at the sensitive area, Izuku cackling at the sensation before shooting his hands down to clutch at the front of his own hoodie, his knuckles almost turning white. “Aw, it is, isn’t it? You can’t take it here, huh?”

“AHAHAHA! PLEHEHEASE!” Midoriya cackled, pulling at his hoodie even harder, enough where Shinsou could even see the space of skin right under the boy’s pale neck. It was freckled there too, he noted, and...he couldn’t help but wonder if he was freckled anywhere else too.

“Please what? If you want me to stop just say so,” Shinsou tilted his head, observing very closely as he noticed Izuku’s face grow an even darker shade of tickled pink. He chuckled in delight as he heard no sounds of protest from the cackling boy underneath him. “Aw, that’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want me to stop?”

“DOHOHON’T DOHOHO THAHAHAT!” Izuku giggled wildly, pulling his hoodie up to cover his face and hopefully muffle those adorable laughs as much as he could, though of course he succeeded in only looking as cute as ever.

“Don’t do what?” Shinsou smirked, his fingers moving to his other foot to scratch at the same oh-so sensitive spot, now mirrored. Midoriya practically screamed into the fabric of his hoodie at the change in sensation, curling his body upwards instinctively before flopping himself back down onto the bed through his fit of cackles.

“TEHEHEASE MEHEHE!” Izuku cackled, pulling at his feet just enough to seem like he was fighting the playful torture, when really Shinsou saw right through him and all his All Might merch far too easily.

“Oh so you WANT me to tease you? You like being teased, Midoriya?” Shinsou snickered at the panicked giggles escaping through the fabric of Izuku’s hoodie, wiggling his fingers back into that oh so sensitive curve right underneath Izuku’s toes that made the boy scream in ticklish agony. “You’re so sensitive, y’know that? So ticklish even with your little All Might socks on. I wonder, though, will it tickle worse if you don't have All Might to protect you?” Shinsou smirked before slipping his fingers under the edge of Midoriya’s sock, the green-haired boy letting out a loud gasp before whipping his head out from the hiding spot in his hoodie.

“No! Dohohon’t!” Midoriya giggled as Shinsou teasingly edged the sock slowly up the boy’s foot, not having even tickled the bare foot yet but somehow still getting a rise out of him.

“I haven’t even started yet! Are you really so ticklish you’ll laugh when tickles are even threatened?” Shinsou grinned, testing his theory once he threw the sock over to the side by wiggling his fingers just above the boy’s bare foot where Midoriya could see from his angle. Sure enough, Midoriya absolutely dissolved into a puddle of giggles, his arms clutching at his tummy as he barely tugged at his trapped feet. Shinsou couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, I was kidding, I didn’t think it would actually be true!”

“Juhuhust do it alreadhehehe! Plehehehease! I can’t tahahake it!” Midoriya pleaded, his hands moving to cover up his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Shinsou. Shinsou felt his heart swell in adoration.

“You want me to tickle you that bad?~” Shinsou teased, slowly swiping one finger from the top of Izuku’s bare foot down to the heel, the boy gasping at the sensation, curling the foot up as much as it would go.

“Plehehease, I cahahahan’t!-” Izuku was a flustered mess under Shinsou, squirming and blushing into the oversized fabric of his hoodie, giggling like a child all the while. Shinsou finally gave in, scribbling his nails on the sole of his foot, pushing Midoriya to squeal before dissolving into panicked, high-pitched cackles. “GAHAHAHA! SHIHIHINSOHOHOU! AHAHA NAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T!”

“It doesn’t even sound like you know what you really want anymore, huh?” Shinsou giggled, slowing his fingers down to small, teasing scratches on the boy’s soles, both socked and bare. Izuku was a puddle of snickers and giggles, barely pulling on his feet as he finally opened up his eyes as much as he could to gaze up at his tormentor. Shinsou looked down at him with a smile, finally stopping his tickling to rest Izuku’s feet in his crossed lap. Midoriya’s breathing was heavy, but the smile on his face seemed plastered on, and didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Shinsou tilted his head at the boy with a grin. “So...you liked that, didn’t you?”

Izuku whined, shoving his flushed face into his hands. “I mean...I don’t know…”

“It’s okay if you do...it’s uh…” Shinsou chuckled sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s kind of...cute, y’know?”

Midoriya peeked out from behind his hands to peer at Shinsou, before bringing his arms down to prop himself up and get a better look at the boy. “You thought it was...cute?”

“Well yeah, I mean...you were all giggly and stuff, and I uh, already kinda thought you were cute beforehand so that just kinda heightened the cuteness I guess,” Shinsou had a hard time making eye contact with Izuku, acting almost as if HE had been the one tickled to near tears just moments ago. He suddenly felt so shy, just like he had felt before Midoriya arrived. Where did all that previous confidence come from? And where did it go when he needed it the most? (now!) “Not to mention the fact you liked it in the first place. That’s just downright criminally adorable.”

“Quit it!” Midoriya whined with a giggle, though he left his feet in Shinsou’s lap, only kicking them out slightly during his fussing. He let out a huff of air, clearly embarrassed and very flustered. “I...I was nervous before I got here...thank you for that…”

Shinsou blinked. “Wait...you were nervous too?”

Midoriya looked up at Shinsou with a furrowed brow. “Yeah...wait, you were nervous?! Why?!”

Shinsou swallowed. He felt like some kind of nervous lump that had been growing and festering in his tummy this entire time was suddenly trying to crawl from his throat, choking him on his own words. His eyes were a bit wide, and suddenly his hands felt all clammy again like they had before Izuku arrived. “You just, uh...you make me nervous sometimes.”

“Do I do anything wrong?”

“No! No, of course not! It’s just...uh…” Shinsou huffed, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands until he saw fireworks, refusing to meet Midoriya’s gaze. “I kind of...like you…a little bit…”

There was a second of silence, Shinsou’s hands still covering his shy eyes as if to protect him from inevitable rejection. He felt the warmth of Midoriya’s feet slip from his lap, and at the same time felt his heart drop from it’s spot in his ribcage. He almost felt like he could cry...that is, until, he felt fingers start to poke and prod at both sides of his ribs, making him arch his back with wide eyes. Those eyes met Izuku’s own mischievous ones, a smirk growing on the green-headed boy’s still flushed face as accidental giggles started spilling from Shinsou’s lips, his body curling from left to right at each poke and prod.

“H-Hehehey! Whahahat?!-” Shinsou melted into giggles as Izuku started to pinch along his ribs, the boy falling onto his back against the pillows as Izuku straddled his waist fully, still relentless in his tickle attack.

“Stop looking so nervous and mopey, Shin,” Izuku smiled, leaning his head down to touch their foreheads together as he slowed his tickling down to his his hands resting comfortably on Shinsou’s sides. “I like you too.”

Shinsou blinked, never knowing he could blush so much until he realized just how close him and Midoriya’s faces were in that moment. They stared into each other’s eyes for seconds that felt like millenia until…

...until they kissed. And what a kiss it was. Filled with small giggles of pure joy and breathless huffs of air that made them forget they even needed oxygen in the first place. It was perfect and pure and everything Shinsou could’ve ever wanted. That night was filled with more kisses and more tickles than either of them had experienced in a lifetime, but it was worth it for each other. It was more than worth it. It was everything.

...

A/N : tysm for reading!! if u enjoyed pls consider reblogging, it helps spread my fics to more ppl who might enjoy!! thanks for the support, much love <33

[hivequest]

Taking a Risk » Mallek Adalov/Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, stressed out reader, chillboy Mallek. TYping quirk only used when texting cause I could not be bothered lmao Originally posted on AO3

A/N: One of my favorite things that I’ve written, ever. I love Mallek and he’s for sure one of my favorite Friendsim characters. When I wrote this I was really feeling those Quarantine Woes

You didn't know what you were doing here. You felt out of place in the worst possible ways. It was a weird, squidgy feeling like stepping on wet grass. But not like the fun kind where you were running around in a sprinkler on a hot-as-balls summer day. No, this was the bad kind of wet grass that you stepped on without knowing it was wet. Why weren't you wearing shoes?

This analogy is stupid. The point is, you're feeling bummed out.

And what better way to not have to deal with that than hang out with someone you knew wouldn't push you into talking about all the ways crashing on this planet sucked! The point is, you're on your way to see Mallek. Mallek is absolutely the kind of friend who can tell when you just need to sit down and veg out. You had been so caught up in everyone else's bullshit that you weren't looking after your own damn self. So now you were doing that.

All it took was a quick text, asking Mallek if he had any company. He texted back only a moment later with a no, obviously not. You asked him if he wanted any. Not really. You ask him if you can come over anyway. Obviously.

You smiled at the palmhusk in your, well, palm. You could already feel the chill vibes of your hacker friend. Friend? Was that the right word for it? You didn't know anymore. When you first met there were definitely some sparks there. You could still feel them now and it made weird butterflies flutter around in your stomach. When you slapped his phone out of his hand and he sent you ass over applecart into the slimy depths of sewer water and he saved you, tits out and all.

You shook off the weird wistful feeling of maybe possibly crossing the friendship barrier and told him you'd walk to his hive. You'd been moping in some bookhive, not your usual hang-out spot with Tagora or Tyzias. This was some upper caste bookhive with purple bloods and some indigos and definitely not where you were welcome if the looks you were getting were any indication. They ranged from snooty to downright murderous. Yeesh.

Your phone -palmhusk, stupid troll names- beeped again. You got another text from him and those cheery fucking butterflies were back. God, you had it bad.

yeah were not doing that lmao;

im not going to let my robobuddy walk out in the sun

do you even know what time of day it =

just stay put ive already got your location ill pick you up;

And like a good little friendsimp. You park your ass on a chair and wait. You hadn't released your moping had taken up most of the night. But with the quick look around, yeah, no, this place was nearly empty by now. Just some older bluebloods trying to cram before their Ordeals and get shipped off-planet. Again: Yeesh.

You kept your ears open for the telltale sound of Mallek's limo. It was a sound you were getting used to these days. He always seemed ready to drop whatever coding shit he was working on to come to see you. You tried not to think too hard on what that might mean. No need to get your hopes up now. It's probably just your bad mood making you imagine some context where there's nothing. Yeah.

Damn, that shit hurted.

Just as you were about to add that to the reasons you were considering just screaming your lungs out who cares whose listening? you heard the wonderfully familiar sound of an approaching elongated scuttlebuggy. If that wasn't enough of a clue as to who the ride was for the quiet of the bookhive was very abruptly disturbed by a series of rhythmic beeps.

Holy shit was that the Tetris theme?

You shoved your palmhusk into your hoodie pocket and yanked the hood over your head. Even if the sun was only out a little bit you didn't want it anywhere near your freshly healed skin. You had no kind cowgirl to nurse you back to health right now if you got your asscheeks baked by the flaming death orb. You peeked your head out and even with the blinding light of Alternia's suns you could Mallek had opened the door and was waiting for you.

Aw. No, shit. You're in a bad mood don't get all heart eyes at him. Don't make it weird.

You took a few steps back into the bookhive, ready to make a run for it. You turn to a sitting indigoblood, who is just staring at you disdainfully for keeping the door open. You give her a two-fingered salute. Godspeed young cosmonaut. She gives you a one-fingered salute. Close the door you insufferable bulgebiter. Fair.

Taking a running start, you book it out into the heat of the Alternian sun and dive for the open car door. It's then that you realize he's halfway parked on the sidewalk to lessen the amount of time you'd have to spend in the sun. Aw. That also means that you came barreling like a cannonball at something that was like two feet out of the door. FUck.

Your face meets carpet and you can already feel the rugburn starting to set in. You hear a startled wheezy laugh from above you, a sound you know better than anyone else on this planet. You smile. It's not like you had any dignity to begin with.

You say hello to him as you peel yourself off of the floor of his car.

"Hey, there robobuddy. You stuck the landing this time," He smiles down at you as he reaches over you to shut the door, closing the space out from natural light and leaving you both lit by his colorful LEDs. You shrug and tell him you've been getting a lot of practice landing on your face these days. The look he gives you is still smiling but there's some level of disbelief at the dumbassery that is your whole existence.

"I know you can get yourself into it. Nothing too bad this time, though, right? No drones or broken bones?" He sounds concerned which is nice but he doesn't drown you with his concern. He leans back on the bench of his limo, keeping an eye on you as the vehicle begins to move on its own. You've been staying out of big messes but the little messes are starting to mess with you. He makes a sound of understanding the sounds as it comes from deep in his chest. Whoa. "Believe me, I've been there. Glad you're not cracking under it though."

He smiles and you can see his little fang and you can feel your heart melt a little. And also you're getting a bit teary-eyed and now Mallek looks alarmed. Shit. You try to quickly explain that you're fine, just, alien allergies am I right? He must be using some new air freshener to mask the musty smell of his limo. Since doesn't use it enough. Ha ha?

He isn't buying it.

With a rare show of cerulean prowess, he lifts you up off of the shitty car rug and sets you on the seat beside him. He feels uncomfortable and you can tell. Ah, goddammit you made it weird. You didn't mean to. Fuck. Fuck now you're feeling even worse. You thought you were starting to balance out. You're with Mallek now, shouldn't everything start to quiet down like it always does? Fuck. He doesn't say anything at first, just leans back against the seat and stretches his arms across it, letting you lean on him if you choose to.

...You choose to.

Your head finds itself somewhere between his shoulder and his collarbone, and you just. Shove your face there. Then scream.

To his credit, Mallek doesn't even flinch. He doesn't wince or shy away from you as you let out every bit of anger, sadness, and frustration out against his sweater. He just sits quietly, staring straight at the blacked-out windshield. You get the feeling he's needed to do this more than once.

Screw this planet. Screw everything about it that makes all of your friends suffer. Why can't you just get them away from all this bullshit?! Why do you have to deal with everyone's bullshit! You love them, you do but holy fuck they're looking to you like you can undo all the damage this place has done to them when you've got literally no god damn idea what's happening at any point ever!

And then, just like that, it fades into the background. Your throat hurts. Your head hurts and you think you might be crying. But it feels lighter. Better now that you've gotten some of that aggression out. You aren't like the trolls on Alternia. You can't kill people when you experience an Emotion™. But that doesn't mean you don't get pent up with rage.

Mallek realizes that now. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and his left hand slowly moves down from the back of the seat the rest against your back. His thumb brushes against your back, the claw drawing little patterns against the fabric of your sweater. His sweater. He tries not to think his sign your chest. This isn't the time.

"Feeling any better?" He asks and you don't know how to answer. You kinda don't want to. But you nod anyways, and you feel some tension leave his body. You knew he was worried about you. You apologize for making him witness your meltdown but he just makes another deep-chested hum. "Nothing to apologize for. I got the feeling you weren't feeling great. I could tell from the texts, you didn't use nearly enough ugly emojis."

You scoff and smack a hand against his chest and once again you hear that wonderful laugh from him. Hey! Your purrbeast emojis are adorable, thank you very much! And you'll not hear another word of it or else you'll send him pictures of rocks and rocks exclusively. No more memes.

"Jokes on you I'm into that shit." You laugh and thump your head against his collarbone. You thank him for being with you when were needed it. And picking you up to make sure you didn't deal with it alone. You don't want to make it weird but...yeah.

He doesn't respond this time, just letting you both enjoy the silence and the comforting sound of the engine. You should almost be at Mallek's apartment by now. It's as you're settling in for the last bit of the drive that you notice that the limo isn't moving. And hasn't been for a while. Your head pops up in confusion and the little GPS display on the back of one of the seats says... yep.

You're already at Mallek's.

But then why is the engine still on? That can't be good for the environment. Do these things even run on gas or is it bugs? Bug gas? Gross.

You notice then that the rumbling is coming from behind you. Like. From where Mallek is sitting. He doesn't look away when you turn to him, just kind of tilting his head to the side with a little bit of a cerulean hue to his cheeks. Oh. Oh, the sound is coming from him. He's purring. That's.

That's adorable.

You feel yourself soften even more when he lifts his arms, silently offering a hug if you want it. Is this platonic? Is this more? You've never had too much trouble identifying what people wanted from you. (Debatable.) If was overtly flushed you could shut it down or divert it to something very much friends only. (Like your every exchange with Zebruh.) But did you even want to do that to your hackerman? You could feel yourself screaming, no, absolutely not. But at the same time, you didn't want things to change. You didn't want to make his issues any worse than they already were. He didn't have too much longer on the planet and you knew it would tear him apart.

But then he turned those blue eyes to you. He looked just as unsure as you were but he was willing to take the risk. He shoved himself so far out of his comfort zone for you and was asking you to be selfish. To want something for yourself and do something for yourself. Not put him or anyone else's wants first. Just your own. And so you did.

You crawled up into his lap, pressed yourself as close to him as you could and clung to him. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you and you could feel a shuddering breath from above you.

"We don't have to put a label on this... not yet. Or ever. Either way is chill with me. I just... yeah." He gave up with a little shrug of his shoulders but you knew what he meant. Unless you could find a way to fight fate he was going to go off-world. He was going to leave you and you doubted you'd be able to go with him. You'd probably get gored by a drone for even trying.

But even if it was just for now, just for a moment, you were going to take it. You were going to let yourself have something, have someone who would care for you no matter how long or short your time was. You'd take it. You had stomached some of the most horrible things on this planet but Mallek had always been a constant. And you got the feeling he thought the same way about you.

So, you'd take it. Whatever comes next, you'd take it. You listened to the sound of his purring, in no hurry to move to get inside the apartment. Mallek felt the same.

You exhaled.

You would be okay.

[tastyykpop]

hii! can i request a jeno very angsty scenario where its his s/o and his anniversary but he forgets abt it bc the dreamies wanted to go to an amusement park and then the managers took his phone so when he comes home his s/o and him get into a fight and they dont talk to each other but she always goes their dance practices since his s/o is so used to taking care of him and he gets sad bc his s/o doesn't look at him at all and he's tired because since he's so stressed with the cbs he just wants love but he knows he's wrong and they make up and stuff:) I'm sorry if this is long! you dont have to do it if you dont want to:)<3

a/n: jdjsjsjsj thanks for this beefy request it was fun to write :)

[sᴀʟᴛʏ]

𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥,ƒℓυƒƒ

Sitting on your bed, you wondered when your boyfriend was coming home. After texting him where he was and wondering when he'd come pick you up to celebrate your guy's anniversary, youd started losing hope seeing as he never answered or bothered reading them. You knew jeno to always answer after just one second but it was like he was ignoring you.

Furious and heartbroken, you threw your phone on at the other side of the bed and decided to just take off the dress you were going to surprise him in. It was his favorite color too. A deep shade of blue silk, comfortable and cute yet still appropriate enough to wear at the fancy restaurant you guys were planning on going to. But those plans were thrown out the window quickly once you noticed how late it was.

"Why do men?" your eyes rolled as you moved in your bed, trying to get comfy.

"Why do men what?" You shot up in the bed from the sound of jenos voice as it basically frightened you back to reality. He was so quiet, you didn't even hear him walk through the door.

"Its about time you showed up." Jeno raised an eyebrow at your sudden aggression, not knowing why you were suddenly angry at him. He thought you'd be excited to see him.

"Woah why are you getting mad at me?" He questioned as he started changing out of his work clothes and into his pajamas.

You grit your teeth. How could he forget this special day that only comes once a year? "Did you forget what day it is?"

Jeno cocked his head to the side, "Um...Tuesday?" He really was clueless on where you were going with this, but your face made him realize he was missing something.

"Jeno..." your head fell into your hands, your boyfriend sat next to you in the bed, still wondering what he was missing and why it was on the tip of his tongue, "Our anniversary, you missed our damn anniversary."

The boys eyes bugged, he knew he missed something and the whole day he couldn't figure it out. He had been so stressed with the recent comeback and the upcoming one that even something as simple as an anniversary date slipped his mind.

God, he felt so bad just thinking how excited you probably were today to go out with him and enjoy your guy's day together, but because of him, your day was long gone and passed up.

"No wait, that was today!? Babe I'm so sorry, I was with the dreamies at the amusement park and I didn't have my phone with me because my manager took it and-" jeno stopped mid sentence before noticing he still didn't have his phone and forgot to get it back from his manager. He messed up bad today.

"You could've told me beforehand you were doing something with dream, although I still wouldn't have appreciated you missing our anniversary, but at least you wouldve told me where you went." You showed your annoyance by rolling over in bed, ignoring jeno.

Jeno growled at his sudden frustration, he already apologized and explained himself why are you still mad? "You know what? At least I told you what the hell I was doing and why I couldn't respond. Yeah I missed the anniversary, but you know what? Its just the fucking time of year we started dating, the day will come again."

"So what you're telling me is you don't care about the day we started dating? Whatever I'm not in the mood to argue right now." You never turned to look at jeno once you finished talking, needless to say you didn't care what he was going to reply with. It wasnt like he cared anyway.

The bass of the music boomed in the practice room. Everyone was so tired these past few days and were anxious for the upcoming comeback that all they wanted to do was relax for once and take a break.

Jeno especially.

After the little argument you both had last night, he couldnt get that out of his head. There were no words spoken to him this morning and you didn't even spare him a glance. His heart broke for sure and he didnt know what to do because he knew he messed up bad. Saying those words to you and knowing how much it meant to you, was something he wish he could take back and start over.

Walking through the practice door, you took a seat on the floor where you rested your head against the wall with bags of food for the members. They were doing so well preparing for their comeback you wanted to congratulate them for working so hard. Plus, you wanted to make sure jeno had eaten today.

"Is that food for us!?" Chenle came barging towards you, giving you a strong squeeze as you laughed into his shoulder.

"Yeah I got food for everyone to congratulate you guys for working so hard." You smiled and handed the bags of food to chenle who looked about ready to take it for himself and eat it.

"Thanks so much y/n! You're the best!" He hopped away happily with the food. Jeno stared between the food and you. He loved how you took care of everyone and still came to their practice though you both weren't on best of terms at the moment, but you weren't even looking at him or acknowledging his presence again, only returning your attention to your phone.

Jaemin wrapped an arm around jenos shoulders as he was eating a chicken wing and looked at the you as well, "Whats up with the both of you all of a sudden? Normally you guys are being so disgustingly cute that I have to walk away for a solid 5 minutes." Jaemin sighed.

"I-its nothing. We just-"

"What is it?"

Jeno shook his head and put on the best smile he could muster while patting jaemins back, "its really nothing jaemin." He said and walked over to the food.

You on the other hand felt bad for causing jeno to be this way. He was silent and didn't really interact with the members when they were eating and goofing around. Not even haechan or mark could crack him. You sighed, putting your phone down and leaned your head against the wall. The only way for all this tension between the two of you would be to settle this and forgive one another. It shouldn't be that hard.

"Jeno," you called, startling your boyfriend who perked up with full cheeks, "come here please."

The dreamies silently watched jeno amble towards you, too invested in what was going to happen to continue talking. You didn't seem to care though, just wanting to get it over with and talk with jeno.

You still stared at the ground avoiding eye contact with jeno, but he couldnt take it. All he wanted was your attention on him.

"Can't you just look at me," he muttered before taking a seat in front of you, "I know I messed up, but please?"

You blinked up at him, "wait...jeno are you tearing up?"

Jeno sniffled back the tears and looked at you with big puppy eyes, your heart sank at the sight. You didn't intend to hurt him, you were just sad and angry about one important thing. And now you think maybe ignoring him had gone too far.

"Please dont cry." You took his hand into yours, softly caressing his knuckles.

"I-im sorry I cant help it. I know I messed up and now you're ignoring me and its just so frustrating because of the comebacks and I'm so used to you taking care of me that I can't even go one day without you loving me." Jeno teared up again. If just a day could hurt him, imagine what would happen if you kept this up.

"You think I dont love you right now?" You asked. Jeno nodded his head slowly, "Babe, of course I love you, I was just mad you forgot or anniversary and went to the amusement park with the dreamies." A sigh fell from your lips before you lifted jenos chin up, "I shouldn't have acted the way I did last night and argued. I dont expect you to be perfect jeno."

There was a smile on the boys face as he brought a hand behind your head and kissed your cheek, "Im sorry, I really am baby. I promise ill make it up to you." He said.

"I know a really cute restaurant. We can have a cute date later." You smiled and jeno nodded his head happily until you heard a groan come behind him.

"This was so disgusting. I need to walk away now."

[tobioslune]

liquid courage

Paring: Iwaizumi Hajime x gn!reader

Genre : fluff, comfort? college au kinda, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, Iwaizumi being soft and a simp

Warnings? : implied drinking, (aged up), cursing (from the lyrics), a little smooch 

a/n: This is a draft i started in january but things happened that made me leave it for about like four months lol (if u wanna know what happened while i was writing this you can read it here lol also you could see how i wrote / continued writing it here ) but! im finally finished and im pretty proud of it even though its lowkey all over the place :>> please do check out the song bc it slaps and it’s really good lol okay that’s all for now hope you enjoy <3 (last notee: likes and reblogs are really appreciated!!)

▶ now playing : drunk - dijon 

You and Iwaizumi have been close friends since highschool, and feelings may have been caught during that time. With the reason of not wanting to ruin the relationship you’ve built with him, you tried to brush it off. And like every other trope where you fall for your best friend you expected that he wouldn’t feel the same way.

Surprisingly both of you ended up going to the same university, and you were able to hang out and keep in touch with each other. Everytime you think you’ve set those feelings aside, whenever some romantic tension presents itself, it bubbles up inside all over again. Like an annoying weed that keeps coming back no matter how hard you try to get rid of it. 

School and other work has been pressing on you for the past few months and you just keep getting into a slump. No matter how hard you try, you find yourself in the same place you were over and over again. Iwaizumi noticed this and really tried his best to help but he’s also caught up with a ton of things. 

O baby, I’m lonely and I’m fucked up by myself

 Could uu come here?!  

It was 1am on a Saturday and Mattsun called you. You were working on an essay and it was super unexpected. It was able to shake you from the somewhat trance you were in while trying to think.

“Hey y/n-san I’m so sorry to call you at such a late time and most probably not so nice notice, but is it okay if you pick-up Hajime here at our usual place? Hanamaki and the others have already left and theres a paper I need to take care of, and you’re the only one I could think of.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Did Hajime drink too much like last time?” You think to yourself, ‘How stubborn, I’ve told him last time to be mindful of how much he takes because of his low tolerance’  You found the thought quite amusing.

“He sure has. When will you be able to get here by the way?” Mattsun replies.

“Give me about 15 minutes, it’s not so far from where I live anyways. Can you keep him company for a little while longer?” you tell him. This would be able to get your mind off the stress and exhaustion you’re in hopefully for a little while. Besides you haven’t met him in person for about month so it would be nice to see him again.

“Yeahh I can do that. Thanks again by the way y/n.”

“Suree, anytime. Okay see you in a bit, bye”

“Bye.”

The train stations are already closed at this time, and it would be too much of a hassle to take a cab to and from where he lives so it probably would be best that he crash at your place instead.

You straighten a few things up in your apartment and proceed to grab a jacket, your keys, wallet and your phone, placing it into a small purse. As you closed the door you could already feel a rush of cold air surrounding you.

The walk there was quite refreshing and you felt much better than you did earlier. As you arrived there you could see Mattsun waiting in front. You smiled as you walked toward him. It took him a couple seconds to recognize you as you came into view. 

“Heyy, hope I didn’t take too long” you said as you greeted him with a hug. 

“No, it’s all good you actually arrived faster than I expected”, Mattsun replies returning your smile. 

“He’s inside by the way.” gesturing with the back of his thumb.

“Okay, I’ll go take care of it from here” 

“Thanks again, apologies if it interrupted anything important.” 

“Like I said, it's alright! I got it.” you assure him.

You both bid your goodbyes and you make your way inside the homey bar. There he was, head resting on his right hand and glass of water in the other. You figured he sobered up at least a little bit. 

You let out an amused sigh, “Oh Haj, I’ve told you a couple of times last time to watch it, right?” You took a seat in front of him, leaning your head on your hand. He laughed a little at the statement made. “Sorry y/n, got a bit caught up and forgot.” 

Letting out a low hum you respond, “Anyways, ready to go?” 

“Yeah just give me a moment.” His head was still pounding from the drinks.

I’M WASTING and I’m anxious; I’m fading from myself… 

You placed his arm around your shoulder in an attempt to keep him upright and stable as you walk. Compared to him he was obviously heavier making it difficult for you to even make it to the door, you were basically stumbling out, but somehow you were able to manage and he was at least trying to cooperate even when everything was practically hazy for him in that moment.

---------- 

You fell for him, and little did you know he did too. You’ve known Hajime as reserved, reliable, firm, caring and surprisingly stubborn at times. He knew that if he told his friends and teammates they would tease him and make it more obvious that's why he kept it in a never said a word. 

He liked you, he liked you so much, but sometimes you just seemed so out of reach to him. Loved by almost everyone, you were beautiful, charming and just overall amazing to him. There were times where he really tried to deny his feelings, his emotions, toward you but whenever another guy would be around you he just can’t help but want you all to himself.

--------

As school progressed your schedule became more hectic and your assignments started to pile up. It felt like an endless mess and an inevitable disaster. He saw how stressed you were but he felt a bit helpless because he didn't know what to do. He couldn’t really help you because of your different courses and besides he wouldn’t even know what to do. As time went on your hangouts became lesser and lesser and sometimes you'd even be too busy or even too tired to chat with him. You would try making plans but your group mates would suddenly set up meetings or deadlines would abruptly be sent and given. 

Although he has tried reaching out, because of how busy you were he was left alone with his thoughts and feelings and he tried to make sense of how he really felt. He wanted to avoid thinking of you but that became difficult for him when almost everything reminded him of you…

“They would have liked this..”, “I should probably ask if they ate.”,  “This would be such a nice gift for y/n.”,  “I wonder what they would think of this.”, it just felt like never ending thoughts of you.

---------

When Matsukawa and the rest of the old team from Seijoh offered him to hang out and catch up he couldn't say no. By going he would be able to hang out with them and it would hopefully be a distraction to help get you off his mind. He knew you were busy and in his head he thought that maybe you didn't like him the say he does. You ran circles around his mind and at time he’s just feel so conflicted and confused.

In the end he got wasted, he felt faded, and just wanted to feel ok. He accidentally ended up telling the boys out of frustration that he had feelings for someone which left him with mixed emotions at times. They found this quite surprising because who would get him so hung up and drunk like that.

COULD U COME HERE?! And say u’ll stay the night 

Although you reminded him last time you went drinking to watch his intake you were still shocked that he was so drunk he could barely think straight. The cold air and silence filled the walk and everything in some way felt alright. You felt at peace and his presence made everything feel comfortable even if you were practically carrying him.

He sighs, “Hey I'm sorry I dragged you into this mess I accidentally let myself go back there again.” 

“It's ok, I mean that's bound to happen to everyone at some point I've got you  don't worry it's fine.” you respond.

“Where are we going, by the way?” He asks.

“I'm taking you back to my place, I mean if you don't mind. The subways are closed and the taxis are hard to come by at this time.” 

“Oh ok, it's fine, I mean I have nowhere else to go to anyways and I don't really mind,”  He says with a flustered laugh.

As you keep walking you pass by a convenience store you both frequently used to hang out at when your schedules weren't so busy.

“Hey Haj, we should stop there for a while just so you could sober up a little more. Also I’m a bit hungry anyway,”  you suggest.

“Yeah good idea, besides you must be kind of tired trying to carry me around for this long.”

You both make your way to the convenience store and you tell him to sit outside while you buy something for the both of you.

 Cause it’s been a while, since I've seen u smiling! O baby, could u come down? I think I’m freaking out! And I’m drunk! 

You step inside and the warmth of the shop embraces you. You then proceed to get some meat buns, and two coffees. As you go to pay you take a glimpse outside to check up on Iwaizumi and to your surprise he was already looking at you. You quickly turn away and you feel a small blush attempting to creep up on your face, but you shake the thought away as you make it to the counter.

You finish paying and walk over to where Iwaizumi is sitting and you place the food down on the table. Handing over a meat bun and a coffee to him, you sit down and sigh in satisfaction as you bite into yours. Somewhat comfortable silence fills the space and you absentmindedly process everything that happened.

“So, how was the hang out with the guys? I haven't seen them in so long. You sure must’ve had fun...” You say in the hopes of making things a little less awkward and quiet.

“Oh yeah it was great.” He replies with his mouth still with food, you laugh and he continues after he finally swallows what he was eating.

“Yeah it was really fun, we got to catch up on a lot and they're doing pretty great I must say. You should come next time, I mean when you're not busy. I miss our hangouts, you know...” 

“Is this not a hangout?” You humorously ask.

“I mean, it is but I'm saying we should hang out more when you're not busy and when I'm not drunk.”  He says with a laugh.

“Yeah we totally should.“ You say with a smile.

“So anyways, how's life?” 

“Well I mean I'm doing ok, but overall just really stressed. Work and papers have been piling up and my head has been pounding for like weeks or maybe even just days you know, but I guess I'm doing fine.” Giving a small laugh to lighten the statement.

“Yeah the workloads really suck right now, they're crazy. But I'm here for you if you need anything even if I don’t really understand a thing from your subjects.”

“Yeah, I know.” You say giving him a reassuring grin.

You both take a brief pause when he suddenly brings up an old inside joke you both had when you were younger. You spend about an hour reliving memories, throwing around jokes, teasing each other and laughing a lot.

Sighing into a smile he says, “I really miss this. It's been a while since I've seen you smile like that.” 

“Yeah I missed our hangouts like these, this feels so great and nostalgic in a way.”

And I don’t think I can beat it, I’m paralyzed, I’m terrified of being alone!

You both clean up and start to continue your walk back to your place. All the stress you’ve been feeling earlier feels as if it has left and you feel relieved. As you both near your apartment complex, Iwaizumi stops making you turn back.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah I’m good.” You then proceed to turn around, but he suddenly continues.

“Listen I need to tell you something, and I need you to promise me that we’re still going to be ok even as friends afterwards.” He says with a slight seriousness on his face

“Yeah, you can tell me anything I promise I'll still stay. I mean unless you're a criminal and you're gonna kill me.” You joke. Moving closer to him you prepare yourself a bit for whatever he would say.  “So what's up?”

He takes a breath, “I like you y/n -san.... and I'm really sorry if you don’t like me after this or if this makes anything awkward or if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I've liked you since high school and I was too scared to say anything because I thought you liked another guy--”

“--I swear even when we were younger there was something about you that just made everyone like you. You were so nice, friendly to everyone, helpful, beautiful, and so much more. You’re captivating to me… and I’m trying to use whatever’s left of this liquid courage to get this off my chest and I think I’m ready for whatever might come next.” 

Your mouth parts slightly from shock because of what he said but it slowly, turns into a huge grin.   

“Hajime, I don't know what to say…” you cut him off before he could say anything, 

“Because I like you too, and I have for such a long time.”

He lifts up his head with hope and a slight disbelief in his eyes, “You do..? You did..?!’’

“Yes..” you say with a small chuckle and a smile plastered across your face. You walk even closer until you're both mere inches away from each other. You take a relieved sigh and make eye contact with him. You wrap your arms around his neck and draw him in for a hug. He places his arms delicately around your waist hugging you back.

He slowly pulls away and cups your face ever so tenderly, pulling you in so that your lips are merely ghosting the others; and he gently kisses you. You felt as if that you were floating on clouds. His lips were so soft and warm it felt so surreal.

You both pull away and he says with a smile, “I've waited and wanted for so long to do that.”

You couldn't believe that everything that happened, actually happened. It felt like a scenario that you would only be able to play in your head. But it was all real and it was all happening. It felt like a dream, and if this were a scene in some cute drama there would have been hearts floating around your head right now, you felt lovestruck.

 Cause it’s been a while, since i’ve thought about the good things, all the bright light things all the good times that we had! It’s been a while, since I made u smile! 

You finally reach your apartment hand-in-hand, sitting down on the couch as soon as you enter. The night was filled with more conversations, laughter and just overall good times. Homework forgotten and disregarded, you let yourself go and have fun. Surprisingly everything felt like it just fell into place. 

You looked at him and maybe it was the alcohol but he was pretty sure he saw stars in your eyes. 

“I can't believe after all this time you're finally and actually mine.” you say.

Whatever magic or fate intertwined and lined you up to this exact moment you just knew that you were forever grateful.

[nbrook29]

robbe 1️⃣8️⃣

Warning: This is smutty, proceed with caution if it’s not your jam ;)

ao3

If anybody asked Robbe, bad weather in the summer should be illegal. Because what the hell? He needs sun rays and blue sky like he needs oxygen, he wants 30+ degrees temperatures and not a single cloud above, and he always welcomes it with all the small inconveniences it brings along, like clammy skin mere minutes after showering or freckles covering his nose and arms. So when it’s August and it’s raining, sorry, pouring buckets, sue him if he turns into a whiny mess for a bit. That’s just who he is.

Or, that’s who he was. Because right now, lying on a soft cloud-like throw blanket in a not-his t-shirt and sweatpants, head a mess of wild damp curls, fuzzy socks on his feet tangled with another pair, he’s feeling pretty good.

Even though the original scenario for his birthday was supposed to be different.

It all started at 12:00 am sharp with a dorky text from Sander because of course it did.

Sander: Hey there you sexy thing

Heard you're legal now 👅 

Robbe: Omg sander 🙈 

Sander: Yes, that's what you'll be screaming today during our own little celebration 😈

 Robbe almost spat out the water he was drinking, face burning hot as he tried to assess whether anybody was paying him any attention.

 Robbe: SHSHDHSHSJSJS STOP 

Sander: I'll do that thing you like 😏👅 

Robbe: IM WITH MY PARENTS DICKHEAD 

Sander: Am I bothering you cutie? 😏 

Robbe: Yessssss 😩 my face is all red they're gonna know what's up 

Sander: I think *I* know what is up 😏🍆 

Robbe: 🤣 GO COOL OFF 

Sander: Hehe

No but for real now

Happy birthday! 🥰🥳😘❤🎂

I love you SO much ❤❤❤💯 

Robbe: Thank youuuu baby 😊😘 

Sander: Can't believe you're an adult *wipes a tear*

You'll always be my baby tho ❤ 

Robbe: Haha yes ❤❤ 

Sander: I'll be waiting for you at 4 pm 

Robbe: But where?? 

Sander: 😌 

Robbe: Sanderrr tell me 

Sander: Nope 

Goodnight 😌

 Sander absolutely loves to tease him and keep him at the edge of the seat which is why he told him the place only half an hour before their meeting, for which Robbe intended to tell him off. That is until he actually got to Park Spoor Noord and saw his boyfriend lounging on grass, blanket underneath him, surrounded by Robbe’s favorite food and wearing the most charming smile as soon as their eyes met.

And he got him a sunflower. A sunflower. How cute is that?

Needless to say, there was no telling off, Robbe didn’t exactly find time for it between kisses and laughs and Sander feeding him croques and fries and cupcakes (which Sander baked and decorated himself, swearing for dear life the small thingies made from frosting on top were not dicks, but Robbe knows him too well to believe him).

And then all hell broke loose and the storm that had been loudly talked about in the media came to Antwerp and made a puddle out of the two of them.

They looked really miserable, but somehow Robbe couldn’t care less as they were running to Sander’s house holding hands, water in their shoes, the sunflower cradled carefully underneath his shirt, huge smiles on their faces as they finally got there, tripping in their haste to get inside.

The hot shower that followed next and Sander taking the lead oh so well will definitely rank in the top 5 moments of Robbe’s life. He’s very grateful Sander’s parents are on holiday in London because he’s not sure he’d ever be able to look them in the eyes otherwise.

Afterwards, Sander made them ice coffee and handed Robbe his real gift which turned out to be a long weekend in Paris a week from now, shutting him up with a kiss when Robbe was about to protest and complain about it being too expensive.

Since the concert they were supposed to go to was canceled due to poor weather conditions, they resorted to eating cake in Sander’s bed and watching the show Robbe had been talking about for weeks now. Sander, being the thoughtful and amazing boyfriend that he is, graciously agreed to Robbe’s birthday wish and sat him down between his legs, kissed the side of his face, brought his laptop closer and pressed play, as Robbe made himself comfy in his arms, the smile that originated at midnight not slipping off even for a second.

***

Another thunder strikes the night sky and Robbe jumps involuntarily, only a little, more from shock than actual fear, but it doesn’t stop Sander from tightening his arms around him, lips grazing delicately the lobe of his ear.

“Don’t worry, Robin, I will protect you,” he whispers with a teasing note in his voice, grunting when a well-aimed elbow meets his side.

“Shut up, I’m not scared.”

Sander’s only reply is a low chuckle and a kiss on that sweet spot under Robbe’s ear that never fails to send a shiver down his spine. Without barely having to move at all considering how close they are, he tilts his head and noses along Sander’s defined jaw, leaving a peck or two on his cheek.

“Now shush, I can’t focus.” He unceremoniously turns away from Sander’s searching lips, a sly grin on his face when he hears an affronted huff.

“Oh I see how it is, you-”

“Shhhh, Wille is talking.”

Robbe loves to be a little shit sometimes, especially if he wants to get a certain reaction from his huffy other half.

“Look how cute he is.” He has to press his lips hard to keep the giggle in when Sander whines in protest.

“Stoooop, why are you being mean to me.” He now has a full-blown pout on his face. “Jerk.”

The laughter finally comes out and Robbe pauses the show, cooing at Sander’s little frowny face and brushing the runaway strands away from his forehead, leaning up to press a kiss there too.

“It’s okay, I still think you’re the cutest prince in the entire kingdom.” He runs a thumb over his jutting lower lip, kissing it once, twice, three times, until the corners of Sander’s mouth pull up.

“Whatever. Simon is cuter than the other one anyway.”

Robbe grins cheekily. “You just think that because he has curly hair like me.” Sander’s jaw drops at that.

“Wow,” he exclaims, voice faux-scandalous as he shakes his head at Robbe. “Someone’s cocky today.” 

“It’s my birthday so it’s allowed.” Winking at him obnoxiously, he turns back to the screen, hands reaching for Sander’s arms to wrap them around himself again as he settles in his embrace with a content sigh before pressing play.

Sander’s quiet behind him for a second, and then his lips touch his ear again, tongue slightly peeking out to play and lick the shell of his ear with just the tip, hot air hitting Robbe’s skin turning his insides into mush, butchering his focus again just as Sander purrs, “I think it’s hot when you’re like that.”

There’s something important happening on screen, but Robbe can’t make any sense of the subtitles because Sander’s lips continue their path down the column of his throat, stopping for a second to suck a kiss in the middle, killing any rational thought Robbe might have had. His hand rushes to Sander’s head to keep him there without his permission, eyes closing as he sighs when the kiss turns into licks and nips to the thin skin.

“Do you think he could kiss you and touch you like that?”

The question breaks the fog in Robbe’s brain for a second, and he barks a laugh at the slight possessiveness in Sander’s voice that’s poorly hidden under a joking tone. 

“Like what?” He presses, excitement bubbling in his stomach when one of Sander’s hands sneaks underneath his t-shirt, fingers grazing the skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake as they finally reach the place Robbe needs them most. 

“Like that.” He flicks his nipple with those black-polish covered nails of his that make him look so hot Robbe’s head spins. “For starters.” He keeps it up, tugging and pinching unhurriedly, with a dirty smirk growing on his face that Robbe can just feel on his collarbone, and he pulls on his hair as he arches his back a little, seeking more of those skillful fingers.

With his hooded eyes, he can see Sander closing the laptop and putting it away quickly before his other hand joins in the fun, a featherlight touch to the growing bulge in his sweatpants, nothing more than teasing for now.

When Sander’s teeth tug at his earring, Robbe lets out a frustrated whine because it’s too much and not enough at the same time, and his boyfriend reads him like a book because he pulls the t-shirt off him to gain full access, mouth latching on his neglected nipple just as his hand dives inside his pants. It doesn’t grant him any relief though, bypassing his dick completely and traveling lower, caressing the soft skin, one finger running back and forth without reaching any further, and Robbe grabs Sander’s thigh in desperation.

“Sander...”

“You didn’t answer me,” Sander whispers in a sweet sweet voice.

“Whaa?” It takes a second for Robbe to understand what he’s asking and he would laugh if his body wasn’t on fire, Sander playing him like a violin.

Also, this playful possessiveness is getting to him, whether he likes it or not.

He does though. Like it.

Oh fuck, he likes it so much.

“Tell me, baby,” Sander breathes into his mouth as he reaches for something Robbe doesn’t see, and he can hear in his voice how it affects him too, can feel him against his lower back, rubbing himself off with minuscule moves, clearly struggling to hold back. 

“You, just you-, fuuuuck,” Robbe’s cut off when two lubed fingers press inside him at the confession, back arching slightly, the feeling so intense he keens and searches blindly for Sander’s lips. Thankfully, Sander doesn’t waste any time and plunges his tongue inside his mouth, swallowing the little whines that escape them with each twist of his fingers.

The rocking behind him gets faster and this is not how Robbe wants this to end so he breaks the kiss, ignoring Sander’s protests as he pulls away from him, only to pull his pants off completely, green eyes following his every move like he’s ready to pounce, and the need inside Robbe’s stomach only grows. He tugs impatiently at Sander’s sweatpants, biting his lip when his hard cock slaps his abdomen, the smirk dancing on Sander’s lips at his reaction liquefying his insides and he crawls closer to him, needing his touch to ground him. 

“You’re still good to go?” He loves how even when it’s hot and heavy Sander still remembers to check in with him.

“Uh-huh,” is the only thing he can come up with now, especially when Sander’s hand settles on his hip bringing them so close there’s no space left between them, guiding his movements just like Robbe likes. He kisses his glistening neck, licking the sweat of his body as Robbe reaches behind to position his slick cock at his entrance, forehead resting against Sander’s as he sinks down fast.

He gasps at the feeling of fullness because it’s always a lot, but Sander’s hands are always there, brushing his sides in a comforting motion, even when his own body is probably screaming at him to move.

“Happy birthday to me,” Robbe lets out a shaky chuckle that ends up in a gasp when Sander laughs too and involuntarily moves inside him. He’s quick to lick into his lips and distract him from the momentary discomfort, and once he’s done with him, the overwhelming need is back double force. 

Sander notices right away, guiding Robbe’s hips to keep grinding for a while before planting his feet on the bed and holding them in place giving several hard jabs that make Robbe hide his face in his neck, cries leaving his mouth with each thrust.

“Like that?”

Robbe just nods helplessly, mouth leaving a wet trail on his skin, but Sander doesn’t seem to mind because he continues his pace, completely taking over once Robbe’s thighs give out and turning him into a mess.

“You’re so hot like this, fuck.” The strain in Sander’s voice tells him he’s getting close so he goes back to bouncing, meeting him in the middle, and it only takes a minute for things to become too much, Sander’s uncoordinated jerks when he’s coming triggering Robbe’s orgasm too.

They stay like that, cooling off while kissing lazily, tongues sliding against each other, but without a rush for now.

Sander pulls back first, their lips smacking when they disconnect. "I'm sorry today didn't work out." Scrunching up his face, he reaches to comb through Robbe's hair consolingly. He leans into the touch before cuddling even closer, seeking warmth when the cold air makes goosebumps appear on his heated skin.

"But I loved today, really. We can go to a concert another time." He kisses the underside of his jaw, sighing dreamily. "And I can't wait for Paris with you."