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joonberriess · 9 months

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d o i w a n n a k n o w

p a i r i n g : jungkook x reader

g e n r e : stalker-yandere au.

t a g s : obsessive!jk, stalking, yandere, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non-con to dub-con (oc gives in but these are heavy non-con/dub-con elements), fingering, spanking, degradation, dirty talk (lots lmao), talks of baby-trapping, BREEDING KINK, unprotected sex, masturbation, hidden cameras, voyeurism, slut shaming(?), pussy spanking (doesn’t happen as much like you think it does lmao), blow jobs, head-pusher!jk, talks of imprisonment, actual imprisonment, there’s a cage for .2 seconds, dark!seven au, jk has lots of pet names, JK IS A SEX ADDICT AND WALKING RED FLAG, stockholm syndrome(?) debatable but tagging to be safe, morally grey!oc, oc is a anxiety ball, mentions of hoseok, oc has horny guilt LMAO, implied pregnancy, jk is CRAZY, size differences, jk corners oc a lot, face fucking, cum swallowing, lmk if i missed a tag!!

w o r d c o u n t : 19.8 k

s u m m a r y : “Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for someone new. Now I’ve thought it through, crawlin’ back to you,”

How long has it been? Weeks? Days? Months. You weren’t keeping count anymore—haven’t been ever since that happened. You make your way through the busy crowd, headphones plugged in and some depressing song from your playlist ringing softly through both ears. It’s cloudy and breezy—a gloomy sight—you think there’s a chance for rain later on.

“Excuse me.” You mumble under your breath and push past everyone, bumping occasionally into someone.

Every so often an uneasy feeling creeps up your spine, like you’re being watched or something. He’s here, a sinister little voice says in the deepest crevices of your mind. Your breathing picks up and you turn your head, vision hazy from how fast you’re walking to keep up with the traffic flow.

Blurry—just faceless people going about their day and trying to get to their destinations.

You slow down a tiny bit, your earbud hanging out of one ear as you take one good look around your surroundings. Nothing, just stores and faceless people combined with the sounds of beeping cars and engines that become background noise. You find yourself staring ahead of yourself, a grim expression and your lips pursed.

“I’m losing it..” You whisper.

You turn back around when you hear it. “y/n.” Your body goes stiff, his voice alone sends you into an anxiety-ridden frenzy.

Your breathing picks up and your feet start moving faster and faster. You keep looking back in all sorts of directions trying to pinpoint his exact location. The entire world feels like a blur, there’s so many voices all around you start wondering if they’re all him. It’s a nightmare-ish hell not knowing which one of them is him—or rather could be him.

“...Jungkook.” You quietly whisper.

Slowly, the world comes to a halt once more—everything falls back into place—you flinch as droplets of water hit your face. The sounds of traffic bring you out of your trance and suddenly you feel like you have room to breathe again. You settle one hand over your chest and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“y/n.” A startled scream slips past your lips as you shudder violently and spin around. Jungkook’s arms constrict your movements with the way he wraps himself around you.

“Jungkook–let me go..!” You curl into yourself and try to move away, no one bats an eye as you two stand in the middle of the crosswalk in the midst of the crowd. Your smaller hands grip his forearms weakly as you desperately try to shove him off, “What are you doing, let me go.” You repeat, a bit more forceful this time.

Jungkook only grins down at you and tugs you closer, “C’mon baby don’t be like that. How long’s it been? Weeks? Months? I know that you miss me deep down as much as I miss you.” He whispers down in your ear in that low husky tone he always spoke in whenever you two were pressed up like this. “Don’t be so cruel sweetheart and give me a kiss.” He dips his head down but you move at the last second causing his lips to drag along your cheek.

You level him with a stare, “I don’t miss you at all, in fact I haven’t thought about you for months now,” you push against him with a grunt of frustration because he doesn’t budge, “My answer was no the last time and it’s no this time, what can’t you understand?”

“Because I know you’re lying to yourself. You say this but when I ask you to look me in the eye, you can’t baby.” Jungkook turns to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek once more, “I know you still want me—us.” He pulls back to look deep in your eyes, forehead against forehead.

Your eyes drop down to his lips and a sense of familiarity washes over you. You recall the times he had his lips on yours, from how soft his kisses could be to the way he kissed you with such passion/force like his life depended on it. Your eyes slowly find his own and for a second you forget you’re both in the middle of a cross walk in the sprinkling rain.

“Don’t think baby,” Jungkook whispers as he leans down, “just feel.”

A loud honk suddenly shatters the illusion, you flinch from the loud noise and yank yourself back. You hear Jungkook curse under his breath, “Don’t follow me, I mean it Jungkook.” Your voice is wobbly but you do your best to sound firm.

You quickly turn on your heels and surf through the crowds of people, ignoring their pointed looks from your shoving. The metro is twice as crowded (more than usual), you easily blend in with everyone else on the platform. Occasionally you look over your shoulder to see if he followed but you see nothing.

The familiar sound of a piano begins playing in your ear, you slip your other earbud back in and lean against the pillar as you wait for the train to make its stop.

“I put a spell on you,

because you’re mine,

You better stop the things you do,

I tell you, I ain’t lying,

I ain’t lying,”

The train comes to a screeching halt and you push yourself off the wall, heading for the opened doors. You tuck yourself near the corner of the train in front of these old grandmas and group of highschool teens. You hold on to the pole in front of you and let out a breath of relief, heart coming to a slow and calm beat.

You always get like this after seeing Jungkook, he works you up into a frenzy and when you run off you’re left with a stupid adrenaline high that takes what seems like forever to come down from. You’re always left with an ugly feeling in your stomach, dread clouding your senses and an immense amount of guilt. One of these days you feel like you’ll give in all over again.

Jungkook just makes it so difficult.

At first it didn’t bother you fresh out of the breakup, you had been clouded with anger and frustration the first weeks. Then when weeks turned to months of him trying to get you back you started falling into denial.

Was the breakup something you wanted? Why did you seem to enjoy the way he begged for you? No matter how hard you tried to push those thoughts away a ugly little voice in your head was always there to remind you.

‘Admit it, you want to let him in.’ It’d say. You do, but no one has to know that’s how you really feel.

Someone taps you on the shoulder nearly making you jump out of your skin as you turn to look at them. Some girl stands with an apologetic look on her face, “Sorry, I’m just trying to pass through.”

You shake your head and step aside, “No, excuse me.” You mumble out and look up at the window, finding a reflection of yourself staring right back.

The loud screeching noises of the train coming to another stop has you casually looking to the side. The doors open and more people get on, some exit and others like you stay put. However, right as the doors close that's when you see him.. Your heart picks up again and you stare directly back at Jungkook who’s standing there with a devious look on his face.

“No, no, no,” you turn around and look for a way out, the next stop isn’t for another five minutes and you’re running out of space to get away so running off isn’t the best option you have right now.

You start backing away, slipping through the crowd and whipping your head back and forth in time to see Jungkook advancing towards you with a predatory look in his eye. He’s zeroing in on you making his way through the people blocking his way. Your breath hitches as your back finally hits the wall, there’s nowhere else to run anymore, and Jungkook knows this too.

“Running from me again?” He chuckles as he cages you in between him and the wall. He sets his hands on either side of you, effectively trapping you in. Your eyes dart around but no one seems to be paying attention, it’s times like these you wished people weren’t actually minding their own business.

“I know you miss me,” his breath is hot against your ear, it sends chills down your spine and has you shuddering in a pleasant way, “I know you want me..” He drops one hand down to your hip, gently caressing over it with his thumb, “Can’t you feel how much I miss you?” He breathes out and presses right up against you.

Your face grows hot in arousal, you can feel the print of his hard cock right up against your thigh pressing dangerously close. You bite back a low whimper and look up at Jungkook, “I-I,”

He gently shushes you, “Remember what I said baby: don’t think, feel.” He slides his lips against yours.

The kiss re-awakens the once hidden desire you had stored away in the darkest corners of your mind. Your eyes flutter shut and you tangle one hand in his hair, the other curls around his neck and holds him down against you. Jungkook seems to like that a lot because he lets out a muffled moan in your mouth, the hand he had on your waist now moving down behind to your ass.

You can hear the train coming to a stop and your eyes open as you take the opportunity to look over his shoulder. People are gathering their things and standing from their seats, you know this isn’t your stop but hell, you’d rather walk the extra three blocks to get to work than be stuck on the train with Jungkook.

“Baby,” he mumbles against your lip and desperately paws at your jeans.

The second he pulls off your lips you duck under his arm, he turns to swiftly grab your arm and try to reel you back in. He misses you by a few centimeters.

“Goodbye Jungkook.” You whisper and disappear in the crowd of people leaving him there by himself with the same hunger in his eyes he had earlier.

When you step out onto the platform you slip your headphones back in trying to calm your racing heart once again, the song playing becoming an eerie reminder.

“Do I wanna know?

If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go)

Was sort of hoping that you'd stay

(Baby, we both know)

That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day,”

Jungkook and you once had been happy together, you weren’t going to deny that.

You had met through one of the rare nights you went out with friends for drinks and food. Your closest friend, Seulgi, had been the one to introduce you two, she thought he’d be perfect for you. Seulgi had NOT been joking around when she said you’d like Jungkook.

You both talked the entire night finding each other much more interesting than the alcohol that sat untouched. He had you hooked with his precious little bunny smile and playful nature, sure he had been touchy but who said you weren’t a little touch-starved yourself? You found yourself craving more of him, leaning into his touch and giving into his cute antics.

The night ended with Jungkook asking for your number and promising you a private date later in the week. Dating Jungkook was a different story however.

Jungkook was..different. You weren’t exactly used to the princess treatment and sudden obsession over you when you both began dating, you liked to think you didn’t like it but sometimes you weren’t so sure if you were saying that to convince yourself. Jungkook didn’t seem to have a single care for the world if it wasn’t about you. He was possessive, obsessive, jealous—everything that you should have looked out for according to the damn book.

Yet you didn’t, you stayed by his side like a moth drawn to the flame. Jungkook had single-handedly managed to become your entire world, poisoning your mind with his sweet words and passionate kisses. He made you forget about everything, until there was nothing but him left..

Jungkook had come clean about his sex addiction even before you two started getting serious. You sat in silence when he opened up about his struggles and how it impacted his life. In a way you felt sorry for him, it was clear he didn’t ask to be going through this. Oh how you were a fool..

Jungkook stopped completely going to his sessions once you two made it official, at first you were worried but Jungkook always reassured you that it was fine. You let it slide for the first couple of months because you were stuck in the honeymoon phase of your relationship with Jungkook, too blinded to really see the problems brewing.

His addiction became an inconvenience and disturbance in your lives. He went from fucking you at least two times a day to full blown whenever he could get his hands on you. It started off tame until he resorted to fucking you in places where you two could surely be caught. He’d bend to whisper darkly in your ear before whisking you away to some place “private”, where he proceeded to fuck the living daylights out of you.

You could never really resist his charms and begging whenever he wanted to fuck you. A sick part of you loved this—how he would pick you up like nothing and manhandle you to his liking, how he’d take what was his and worship the very ground you walked on. It gave you a sick thrill knowing you had him around your finger, but all good things have to come to an end don’t they?

You come to the realization through Seulgi. “That’s not a relationship y/n,” she said, “it’s unhealthy for you and him to go on like this, this is more like an exclusive friends-with-benefits.”

After hearing that you questioned everything in your relationship with Jungkook. So you did what you thought was the best in this situation: you left.

You had felt horrible but what else could you have done? Jungkook wasn’t proving to you that he was going to try to get help again, and if he said he was going to he’d simply go for one or two meetings and then go back to that vicious cycle—and you were tired of it (physically and mentally).

Oh how you’d come to regret it.

“Hey y/n, I think there’s someone here to see you? I don’t know he didn’t tell me who he was but uh he told me to tell you he’s waiting for you down in the lobby.” One of your co-workers said as soon as you walked into the office.

You gave her a quizzical look but she merely shrugged and went back to work. Trying to think of who it could be, you check your phone to see if anyone you knew texted you over coming to visit. It couldn’t have been Seulgi, she always called you ten minutes beforehand to let you know she was on her way. You don’t live close to family like that so they were out of the question.

“Oh.” Realization dawns on you, “Jungkook.” You whisper and hurriedly run to the elevators, hitting the first floor button a bit too rough. “What does he want now?” First the train station, now your job? Were you safe ANYWHERE?

The elevator dinged and you stepped out, looking around for the tall curly headed fuck who decided to yet again come bother you. You spotted him sitting there with a grin on his face as he stared at you from afar. With clenched fists you walk over, “We’ll talk outside.” You say through gritted teeth.

Jungkook lets a low whistle slip from his lips, “Whatever you say.” He follows after you with a lazy strut, his eyes practically glued to your ass. You don’t even have to look to know.

“What do you want now Jungkook?” You say without turning to look at him, you stand in front of a food truck cafe(?) just a little ways down the street. “I thought I made it clear the last time we spoke about us.” You smile briefly at the food truck employee and place an order in for the two of you.

“Damn baby you’re so cold, not even a how are you Jungkook? Have you been eating okay or anything?” Jungkook chuckles, “When did you become so mean?”

You side-eye him in disbelief, “Me, mean? When I’m literally the one being followed and stalked by you everyday since we broke up?” You say softly as you take both drinks and hold one out to him.

Jungkook takes an annoyingly loud sip from his drink, grinning from ear to ear when he sees your annoyed expression, “I don’t see it as stalking, in fact I’m the one running around chasing after you just trying to get back together. You’re the one whose got it fucked in the head if you think I’m stalking you, unless you’re into that shit baby. I know you were into some weird shit but this?” He snorts.

You don’t reply because you don’t trust your voice, or anything you have to say as a matter of fact. “Right.” He gives you a shit-eating grin while leaning against the food truck, “Admit it baby, you like it, I always knew you were a little fucked in the head but this? You like the chase?” He steps closer.

The silence feels so loud between you two afterwards, you can’t look him in the eye right now. “Look,” you sigh softly, “I have to go.” You shake your head and give him one last look before you turn and head back to your job.

He doesn’t follow this time.

. . .

“Secrets I have held in my heart,

Are harder to hide than I thought,

Maybe I just wanna be yours,

I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours,”

Jungkook sang under his breath while he sorted out a few wires, “Wanna be yours,” he trails off and lifts up the object he’s holding in his hand, “I wanna be your vacuum cleaner, breathing in your dust,” he whistles and walks towards the large glass window pane, “wanna be yourssss,” he ends with a soft little whistle note as he gets up on the small ladder he has with him.

“That should do it.” Jungkook hums to himself, admiring his own handiwork. Jungkook takes a step back and looks around the room with a satisfied hum, when he deems everything fit he heads out, making sure not a single thing is displaced. “I just wanna be yours, wanna be yours…”

A small green check mark lights up his phone, a robotic voice following shortly after, “Welcome, your new security camera system is now: activated.”

“So you haven’t gone out or anything with anyone? I mean I kinda figured since it’s been like a few months since all that happened.” Seulgi off-handedly says while stirring her drink around with her straw, “C’monnnn you haven’t thought about it at least once?” She pouts.

You shake your head fondly, “No not really. I kinda don’t have time to think about stuff like that, got a big project coming up and you know how that gets..” You sheepishly reply with a shoulder shrug.

Seulgi gives you a ‘I know you’re lying’ look, “Sureeeee, I can count this many times on my fingers the amount of guys that have either checked you out or tried to ask you on a date.” She wiggles her fingers, “Is it cause of Jungkook? Cause if it is girl forget him! You’re single now, you need to go out and live a little.”

You take a nervous sip from your drink and shake your head, “Look I don’t even know if I made the right choice in leaving him! We weren’t that unhappy, it was just his stupid sex addiction that was tiring me out! I could have just made him get some help and we would have been good,” you pout petulantly, “ ‘s just that sometimes I think I made the wrong choice.”

“Babe, I love you and all but you need to be a little stronger than that. Jungkook is the same guy who beat up another because he hit on you, we’re talking about the same Jungkook who had a unhealthy codependency with you and was pretty fucking obsessive. I’d say you dodged a fucking tank.” Seulgi scoffs, “Besides, he would have just gone and did the shit he was doing whenever you tried sending him back to therapy.”

You hated that she was right about everything. Maybe it was high time to see other people and try to get out there. Deep down the very thought of meeting someone who isn’t Jungkook didn’t settle right with you. As much as you loathed the idea you knew you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. “I don’t know..” You push your empty glass to the side.

“Hey,” Seulgi smiles sweetly and sets her hand over yours, “just think about it yeah? You don’t have to meet someone new, we can have fun in other ways like a girls trip or something!” Yeah a girls trip sounded nice.. “It’s getting late but give it some thought.”

You both pay for the tab and head out of the bar all giggles and smiles. “I’ll see you next week, yeah? Lunch is on me!” Seulgi waves after parting ways with you, “Text me when you get home!” She blows you a kiss.

You pretend to catch the kiss with a quiet chuckle, “Bye.” You wave back, “Get home safe..” You mumble softly and turn to head in the opposite direction.

It’s pretty late but you’re not too concerned given that people tended to stay out and live the night life in the city. You take one look at the night sky before plugging in your headphones, “She said goodbye, too many times before,” you mumble under your breath and lose yourself within the crowd of bustling people, unknowing of the hooded figure headed in the opposite direction.

. . .

Jungkook had his hands placed all over your body. He sported a soft grin on his face, his onyx eyes watching in glee as little moans left your lips. “There you go,” he said, “let go for me baby.” He whispers darkly and leans down to slot his lips against yours.

You lean into the kiss and whine softly, Jungkook doesn’t stop there as he brings your hips up in a bruising grip, pressing down and letting his hard cock rub against you. Your mouth waters a tiny bit just thinking about how he’d fuck you silly with that fat cock of his. It had you mewling for him, pawing at his sweats as you tried to get his cock out.

“Ah-ah,” he stops you breathlessly, “not until I say so baby.” He stares down at you with a glint in his eyes, “Let me take care of you, I’ll fuck so you good you forget all about today baby, just say the word.” He says as he presses his forehead to yours, “Go on, say it.” He whispers.

You jolt when his fingers slip between your sopping folds, rubbing up against your swollen and tender clit. “J..ungkook..” Your eyes shut in pleasure, “Please,” you grind against his hand, basically humping it at this point, “Fuck me, please, need it so bad.” You whimper.

Jungkook chuckles, “Good girl.” He leans down to bury his face in your neck, “Good fucking girl.”

Your eyes snap open and you jolt upwards in bed. You try to control your labored breathing with a hand over your wildly beating heart. “What the..” You look around your room, not a single thing misplaced. You figured it was another one of those nights—another “dream”.

“What is wrong with me..” You whisper out and bury your face in your hands, blinking away your disoriented gaze. You sit in bed like that for a few minutes calming your racing heartbeat and the throbbing you feel between your thighs.

This wasn’t the first time you’ve had a wet dream like this, it’s been a normal occurrence for weeks now. You’d go to bed then wake up soaked in sweat (and other places you don’t mention) and then go back to sleep hot and bothered. It was on repeat at this point.

Your tired eyes shifted over to the alarm clock sitting by your bedside, “Two am..” You chuckle humorlessly and shake your head, “God what is happening to me..” You mumble and lay flat on your back.

You stare at the ceiling for a few minutes just collecting your thoughts and trying to get a grip on yourself. “What is that?” You mumble in confusion and squint your eyes when you see a small red dot blinking back at you. “I must be going crazy.” You shake your head and turn on your side.

The red dot blinks the entire night, sitting so innocently up high.

“You’re single now, you need to go out and live a little.” It rings in your head the entire morning.

Even as you sit there in your private office you swear you can hear Seulgi’s words loud and clear in your ears. It’s really starting to bother you now, you’re half tempted to take your lunch early and nap or something.

After waking up from the wet dream you had tossed and turned in bed for a good hour because Seulgi kept coming up. You swear you feel like you’re going crazy, this was just as bad as getting an annoying song stuck in your head. If not even worse.

“Hey y/n,” Hoseok peeks in, “got a minute?”

You lift your head up with a tired smile, “Sure, sit down.” You gesture to the chair, “Did you need something?”

“Well kinda..? I don’t know if that’s the proper wording but yeah, but first here,” he sets a perfectly glazed cream donut on your desk, “Soojin brought some in and I figured you could use one.” He sits down across from you, “How are you?”

You look down at the delicious looking donut sitting on the paper plate, “I’ve been..okay. Not the best but you know how it is with these big projects,” you accept the donut, “what about you? How’s the presentation coming along?.”

Hoseok shrugs, “It’s going okay, can’t say I’m too enthusiastic about it but it’s whatever. Anyways, that’s not what I came for,” he sheepishly smiles, “I was wondering if you were free tonight?”

You stare back at him in awe, “Tonight? Oh, well,” your mind drifts off to the same words from last night, “I’m free..” You mumble while playing with your desk plants, “So…tonight?”

“Yeah..sure,” he sags in relief, “so..see you tonight?” He smiles.

“Tonight.” You nod smiling back at him. You’re not so sure if your own smile mirrors his enthusiasm, but you tell yourself not to think that way. He says a quick bye and runs out of your office, leaving you a tiny bit doubtful. “Damn you Seulgi..” You mutter under your breath.

When he’s for sure gone you take your phone out and begin dialing Seulgi knowing the girl is on her break by now. It rings forever and ever until it sends you to voicemail. “That’s funny..” You mumble, usually Seulgi never misses a call, and if she does she texts you during the call letting you know if she was able to talk or not. You check your messages and see nothing.

“Hmm,” you call one more time but this time the call immediately declines. She must be busy, you think as you send her a quick text. ‘Call me ASAP, I just got asked out by that one guy I told you about.’

After hitting send you think nothing of it and turn your attention back to your monitor, blissfully unaware.

. . .

The phone finally stops buzzing and Jungkook releases a sigh of relief as he shakes his head, “So fucking annoying.” He mutters while setting the device down on the counter.

He sees it light up with Instagram notifications but he can’t be too bothered with those at the moment. He stares out the window with the coffee mug brought up to his lips, it’s a beautiful day out today..reminds him so much of you..

“Flowers would be nice..” He hums, “Maybe some chocolates.”

The phone pings loudly once again—a few times at that—and this time Jungkook can’t ignore the stupid phone and peers over to look at the screen. He nearly doubles over when he sees your name on the screen, “Shit.” He hisses when a bit of coffee spills on him.

When Jungkook cleans up the mess on himself he turns the phone back on, his eyes scan over the message, almost manic and anxious. But just as quick as his smile came it was gone..it was replaced with an unbridled rage. His grip on the phone tightened until he suddenly flung it violently into the wall, hearing the screen shatter and clank to the ground loudly. He was trembling with rage.

“So it’s gonna be like that..? Just gonna..throw me away?” He mutters darkly while staring blankly at the wall, “Cute.”

“Gave you all the money, gave you all my heart, your masquerade party, I was fucking drunk,”

You hum while taking a sip from your glass of wine, mindful of the baby pink robe you had on. It had been about a good hour with you just sitting there in front of your vanity listening to music and drinking wine. Seulgi still hadn’t gotten back to you—let alone open the messages you left her—you were getting worried now, half-tempted to call her again. You decide against it though because Hoseok messages you about the restaurant.

“Ugh…where are you,” you mutter quietly while tapping on Seulgi’s profile in hopes of her being active on Instagram, “could really use your help..” You shake your head.

You give up after seeing that she hasn’t been active at all, in fact the last time she was active was literally yesterday when you both split up after the bar. You wonder if work was kicking her ass too. “Whatever.” You send her a picture of you curled up in your chair throwing up a peace sign, ‘wish me luck xoxo’. With that you finish getting ready.

You don’t realize how much fun you’re having until you go for another sip of wine and then realize you completely drained both the glass and bottle. A soft pout forms on your lips as you drop your eyeliner over the surface, “Well that sucks.” You softly sigh as you stare at nothing (you must be tipsy given that you spaced out like three times before this). “Ugh.” You groan and push yourself off the chair.

“Stupid robe,” you shove the silky garment off, letting it pool at your feet as you stand bare in your lace panties/bra.

In your drunken haze you spot the same red blinking dot from the other night but this time it’s by your bookcase. You stop for a few seconds and stare at it before rolling your eyes, “That’s it, I’m literally going insane.” You throw on your pretty little silk dress which falls off your shoulders and manage to find both Prada loafers you were looking for all day since you got home.

You pose in the mirror for a few seconds before huffing and going to get your phone, “Seulgiiiii,” you whine into the phone, “it’s not funny anymore answer meee, I need you to tell me if I look good or not.” You lift your phone up to show your entire outfit to the camera, “Stop being a bitch,” you hiccup drunkenly, “okay gotta go, love you.” You mumble and stop recording.

With your look being done you gather your coat and purse. As you wait for the elevator doors to open you feel your phone buzz and out of curiosity you fish it out of your purse and turn it on to check it. “Finally,” you sigh in relief when you see who sent you a message, ‘looks great mama, where you guys heading?’

“Mama?” You snort but bite your lip in excitement and start typing back..

The place Hoseok chose happens to be the same restaurant Jungkook took you to when you finally broke up with him. You stand outside with pursed lips. This place was bringing back memories—ones you worked so hard to repress and store away for good—and now you were forced to come back to the only place you swore to never step foot in again. It wasn’t like it was Hoseok’s fault, how could he have known?

“Hey,” you say once Hoseok picks up the call, “no yeah I’m here, I’m outside.” You cover your ear with your other hand and walk around a bit to avoid the crowds of people walking by.

“I’m like less than five minutes away, traffics really fucking bad tonight,” Hoseok chuckles on the other line, “You should just go in, I made a reservation under my name already, that way you aren’t standing outside or anything since the weather’s bipolar as hell.”

You chuckle softly, “Okay, I’ll head inside and wait for you then,” you turn to walk back when you suddenly freeze up, body going eerily still.

“y/n? You still there?”

You stand there in sheer terror when you see who’s sitting there leaned back on top of the hood of his car. Jungkook’s eyes are already on you as he watches from afar with a soft smirk on his face. You notice that he has a large bouquet of flowers sitting in his other hand. “Y-Yeah I’m here,” you whisper, “I just dropped my purse I gotta go I’ll see you when you get here.” You hang up in a hurry and start walking faster.

“Hi baby.” Jungkook licks his lips when you’re face to face, “Don’t you look darling? What’s the special occasion?” You hate it when he looks at you like that, like he’s ready to flip your dress up and fuck the living shit out of you in front of all these people. “What’s the matter? Cat’s got your tongue.” He pushes himself off his car and comes to stand right in front of you.

You look Jungkook up and down, god he looks so good right now in his white and black striped shirt jean combo. His hair's messier than usual too, you just wanna grip it tight like you used to whenever he had his face buried between your thighs— “Baby?” He grins in amusement.

“What are you doing here?” You swallow nervously while your eyes dart back and forth. You don’t even fight it when Jungkook’s hand comes to rest on your hip his thumb rubbing over it gently

“Ain’t it obvious?” He chuckles, “Came for my baby.”

You don’t bother to ask him how he found out about you coming here, you see Hoseok’s car pull into the valet a mere few feet away from you guys. That certainly has your breathing picking up, “You need to go,” you push at his chest, “right now Jungkook, please.” You whisper out in absolute fear.

“Why?” Jungkook’s smile drops as he stares at you with a cold look. His eyes follow yours and he stares darkly at Hoseok, “Oh I see now baby, scared your new boyfriend is gonna find out?”

“Stay away,” you wheeze as you try to control your breathing while stepping back, “I swear if you ruin it I’m going to hate you forever.” You point a finger at him while rushing into the restaurant.

As your breathing evens out you jump in terror when someone’s hands come up to rest on your shoulders. “y/n! Oh shit, my bad I didn’t mean to scare you.” It’s just Hoseok..

“No it’s my fault I wasn’t looking.” You whisper with a hand over your chest, “I didn’t go because I saw you pull up and wanted to wait for you.” You finish lamely.

Hoseok can see how nervous you are right now, he looks at you like he isn’t so convinced but he doesn’t push it luckily, “Okay, let’s go.” He smiles and offers his arm to you.

As you both stand in front of the hostess you can’t help but turn back to look outside. Jungkook’s still there where you left him, staring at you and Hoseok with that knowing look in his eye. You’ve seen it before too, and it sends a tremor down your spine while Hoseok leads you away. You sincerely hope he doesn’t do what you think he’s gonna do..you don’t know if you’ll die then and there.

“I hope you don’t mind I chose this place, heard it’s really good here.” Hoseok pulls the chair out for you, “In case you’re disappointed or something, not that I’m implying that it just seems like you’re kinda lost here.” He says with a sheepish smile while taking his seat across from you.

You quickly shake your head, “No, no it’s fine. I’m just a little scared from earlier is all,” you take a large gulp of water, “You know how it is with anxiety and all that jazz.” You try to brighten the mood with a smile. Hoseok luckily lets it go rather quickly and you both fall into a comfortable conversation while the bustling restaurant behind you becomes (a rather comforting) background noise.

You quickly come to realize Hoseok’s rather pleasant to talk to. He’s the textbook definition of a gentleman with you, he makes sure to listen attentively to you and isn’t afraid to show you how invested he is in your business. You like the attention he’s giving you given that it’s been a cool minute since anyone had truly sat down to just listen to what you had to say etc. You like talking to him, a lot more than you find yourself willing to admit out loud.

You even forget about Jungkook.

“How’s the food?” He asks with a grin.

“Mmm,” you nod while wiping your lips with a napkin, “delicious, I don’t think I’ve ever been to a place where they actually made my steak the way I asked for.�� You giggle shyly while hiding your smile behind your hand, “What about you?”

Hoseok shrugs, “It’s alright I guess,” this makes you burst out laughing, “what..?” He chuckles, “I’m being honest! Here, try some of mine you’ll see what I mean.” He holds his fork out to you and clearly you don’t expect him to feed you but at this point you don’t care you’re having too much fun right now.

“I like that you offered me literally what I’m already having, just slightly more medium-rare.” You snort, “You’re so funny you know that?” You lean your head against your hand with a fond smile.

“I’ve been told.” Hoseok gives you a closed-eye smile, “I think you’re funny too y/n, this might be one of my most favorite nights ever.” He slowly slides his hand over your own, just letting it sit there but you can tell he wants to hold yours.

You find eye contact too intense and avert your gaze down to your intertwined hands. It feels so right..but so wrong for some reason. The same ugly voice starts whispering things in your head, ‘He’s not Jungkook, I bet Jungkook can fuck us ten times better than this guy.’ You bite down on your lip to suppress your annoyance, you have to find a way out of this—and quick.

The interruption comes in a rather unorthodox manner as the chandelier suddenly comes plunging down right next to you guys. You jump in terror and pull back, “Oh my god–” You quickly stand up to avoid any debris. Hoseok jumps out of his seat too, rounding the table to crowd you as he asks you various questions like: “Are you okay?” or “What the hell just happened?”

Through all the commotion you see Jungkook at the bar, propped up against the mahogany wood with a toothpick in his mouth and a sinister look. You feel another wave of anxiety take over slowly as your hands become clammy and your balance a bit unstable. “I’m g-going to the restroom.” You tell Hoseok and rush away, not bothering to stop and hear whatever he has to say.

At the same time you see Jungkook push himself off the bar and start making his way over. “No, no, no.” You mumble and pick up the pace, rushing down the empty hall and towards the women’s restroom. You should be safe in there right?

The bathroom is dimly lit by the cheap fluorescent lighting, you push through and make your way into the last stall and lock yourself in there. Your breathing is labored and comes out uneven, or at least you think it’s uneven. You don’t know and you’re not exactly worried about that right now.

With an exhausted sigh you slump against the wall and let your head thud against the tile gently, “God this is a mess..” You mumble and hide your face in the palm of your hands. You sit in silence, the small buzzing sounds that the lights make keep you from wallowing in your misery as you slowly start coming to your senses.

You’re hyper aware of everything going on around you right now—the sounds of the water drops from the faucet, murmurs of staff outside, the lights—everything. You perk up when you hear the low creak the door makes as it’s pushed open. It hits the door frame with a dull thud—creaking even. You don’t give it too much thought until you hear it.

You sit straight and push yourself as far as you in the corner, trembling as the sounds of his expensive oxfords click against the tiled ground. Jungkook whistles a low tune, pushing the very first stall door open. When he finds nothing he goes to the next, then the next, and then the next. You put a hand over your mouth, watching as his shoes slowly come into view as he makes his stop right next to your stall.

When he finally comes to a halt in front of your stall he stands there calmly, whistling even more now as he patiently stands there. You stare at his shoes in horror and peek through the small crack in the door, he stands there with an intimidating yet scary smile. The whistling really sends your nerves into overdrive as you shakily reach for the latch.

With a click it unlocks, you wait with a bated breath and then slowly push it open. Jungkook slowly comes into view, he stares at you silently just taking you in with his dark eyes. You stare right back with your lips parted in a silent plea. For him? You don’t know what you want from him right now, but lucky for you, you don’t have to do too much thinking.

Jungkook grabs your face in his big hands, shoving you into the stall again as he kicks the door closed with a loud bang. His lips are on yours in seconds as he pushes you up against the tiled walls, huffing quietly against your lips as his hands come up to tug you close, body against body. You whimper in defeat and finally give into that stupid voice that plagues you in your nightmares.

You bury your hands in his hair and move your lips against his own just as passionately. He hums in approval and snakes his hand under your thigh to grip it, you take it as a sign to wrap it around his waist. With this position your throbbing little cunt is pressed right over his hips, closer than most times he’s cornered you.

“Mm..ah..Jungkook,” you whisper in between the harsh kisses, “wait–mm,” his lips sloppily claim yours kiss after kiss until saliva begins dripping down the corners of your chin. You arch your back and push your hips into his rather demandingly, “Jungkook, please.” You mewl softly while moving in slow circles against him.

“Please what baby? After you tried to give away what’s mine to that little priss outside? You think you really deserve it baby?” He growls, “You’re fuckin’ mine,” he presses you harder against the wall, “letting that motherfucker put his hands all over you…after you’ve been so mean to me and run off everytime you see me? Gonna make me beg for it sweetheart is that it? You want me to beg for that little pussy?” He cups your cunt through your panties, pressing the palm of his hand firmly against you. “Hm?”

You cry out quietly and shake your head, “No–I wasn’t gonna,” you throw your head back with gritted teeth. He interrupts you with a sharp smack against your cunt, one that has you keening in humiliation and arousal, “Jungkook..!”

“Wasn’t gonna what, hm? Were you planning on giving him this slutty little pussy after all? Were you going to lie to me sweetheart, is that it?” He growls low in your ear, “You can fuck him all you want baby,” he whispers as his fingers dip into your soaked panties, “but you know deep down no one is the same as me, no one knows your slutty little cunt better than I do baby.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as he sinks two thick fingers into your poor throbbing pussy. There’s a sloppy squelching noise that resonates between you two as he fucks his fingers deep inside. You let out shuddery breaths and cling to his shoulders, pawing at him desperately as you tighten your leg that hangs uselessly around his waist.

“Hear that baby? Bet he wouldn’t be able to get that little pussy talkin’, wouldn’t know how you like it fast and hard you filthy slut.” He leaves marks over your neck and shoulder, uncaring that your “date” was still sitting outside waiting for you to come back.

He pounds his fingers knuckle deep, brushing them up against that spot that drives you crazy. Your moans spill from your mouth uncontrollably, they go from breathy and high-pitched to loud and clear. If anyone were to walk in it’s over, for fucks sake the door isn’t even closed!

“J-Jungkook..” Your eyes slip shut and you whimper, “More,” you gasp out and tug him closer. You turn your face and slide your lips against his mouth in a slew of messy kisses and kitten licks, “Please..”

“More?” The palm of his hand smacks against your sopping folds from the force of his movements, driving his fingers in deeper (as much as it allows him to be honest). He pistons them in and out of you quickly, so fast your pussy tightens around the thick digits greedily, your orgasm building in your core steadily from the hot pleasure. “Like this? Or like this?” He purrs as he brushes against your g-spot teasingly.

“Like that..!” You throw your head back and moan, “Oh god…” You whisper, eyes clouded in tears of pleasure.

Jungkook kisses up your shoulder and towards your ear, “Let go for me baby, I got you.” He whispers hotly in your ear, “Cum all over my fingers sweet girl, make it messy like you know how to.” His wrist flicks up, fucking your pussy with his fingers almost like he’s actually fucking you—the same force and brutality.

Your legs quiver, pussy squeezing around his fingers as another dollop of slick runs down his wrist and your inner thighs onto a small puddle that formed during the finger fucking session. “Jungkook..!” You wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his, “Yeah–like that,” you whisper breathily while staring into his eyes, “gonna cum.” You bite your swollen lip and muffle your moans.

Jungkook licks his lips hungrily, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. When he feels your thigh stiffen he slots his lips against yours to swallow your moans and whimpers as you finally cum. You ride out your orgasm on his fingers by grinding back and forth on his hand. Loud whines and cries slip from your lips as you greedily fuck yourself on him, only stopping when your poor cunt throbs from overstimulation.

The air between you two is hot, everything slowly comes to a halt and you feel like you can breathe again. Jungkook’s lips slip from your own with a smacking noise as you slump against the wall whilst panting softly. Jungkook easily follows, leaving gentle little kisses all over your neck to soothe the bite marks he had been leaving prior.

“Mm–off,” you tiredly whine and shove at his arm, “ ‘s too much.” You mumble.

Jungkook lets his fingers slip out from your gaping cunt, he doesn’t bother with cleaning his fingers and merely sucks the digits in his mouth, licking them clean with a devious look on his face. Before you can even think about anything Hoseok suddenly pops back into your head. Your eyes widen when you realize you left him out there all by himself.

“Oh no, no, no,” you mumble out while pushing Jungkook off and scrambling for some toilet paper to clean yourself with, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jungkook stares at you with a brow raised given that he’s never heard this many cuss words leave your mouth ever.

“What’s wrong?” He moves to cage you in, “Where you goin’ baby?” He lazily drawls out.

“Back out there,” you snap in annoyance, all this pushing and shuffling around in the tiny ass stall has you irritated and feeling claustrophobic, “I can’t just pretend like Hoseok isn’t out there waiting for me.” You mumble while wiping at your inner thighs.

Jungkook shrugs darkly, “I can.” He says so easily, “C’mon sweetheart, forget about him.. We can go back to my place and I can fuck you so good,” he whispers out while pushing you against the wall, “can fuck you on my bed all night baby.” He grins, “Might not even make it with how sexy you look in this little dress.” He whistles.

“No Jungkook,” you sigh tiredly, “whatever happened just now is a one time thing, it shouldn’t even have happened! Especially here of all places, are you insane?” You shake your head and throw your trash out, “I mean it.” You look up at him, “Now get out of the way please.”

Jungkook licks his lips, “Give me a kiss sweetheart.” He calmly says. You stare at him in disbelief but when he makes no effort to move out of your way you timidly reach up to cup his face and bring him down for a gentle kiss. Jungkook hums softly as he pulls back with half-lidded eyes, “Come home with me.”

“Goodbye Jungkook.” You whisper and push past him as you hurry out of the bathroom. This was so not what you were planning..

“Your call cannot be connected, please try again,” A sigh of frustration leaves your lips as you hang up the call and close the app, “This is the fifth time..” You slump over on your sofa mindlessly scrolling through your messages.

It’s been a week since Seulgi suddenly went AWOL on you. You had texted her to see if she was up to go out for lunch but you got no response, and for days now her replies seemed dry and odd. Something just felt completely off with her and now you were tempted to go over to her apartment yourself to see what was going on with her. You prayed and hoped she was okay though, wherever she was.

With a fruitless sigh you toss your phone on the couch and sit there listening to the pouring rain outside. The sky was a gloomy pale blue color contrasting to the city lights below, the people walked on without a single care for the weather. You should know given that you spent your afternoon sitting in front of your large window watching the people and cars down below with a warm mug of tea on your lap.

“Seulgi..where are you.” You whisper softly while curling into your blanket. You’re watching a random tv show when suddenly a loud clap of thunder and everything around you darkens slightly. You sit there in silence staring at the once animated flat-screen. “Greatttt.” You groan out and rub your temples, “Just what I needed, perfect.” You push yourself off the couch and head over to the dinner table to turn on the candles there.

Not even a few seconds pass by when suddenly everything re-animates, you hear the sound of your microwave starting up, the tv turning back on, and the lights once again brightening the entire room. You stand there with the candle halfway in the air, a look of annoyance etched on your features. “Make up your mind will you?” You scoff and head into your room with your phone, intending to re-connect your phone to the wifi along with your other devices.

You turn your computer on with a lazy hum and let it start up while you check your phone’s connection status. You mindlessly tap on the screen, accidentally clicking your bluetooth tab instead of the wifi one. Before you exit the tab you suddenly go still, “Oh?” You see a new name sitting there instead of your usual speaker etc.

“Monitor system: 1.” You read out loud, a brow raising in confusion. Your home first off was huge, these weren’t your regular apartments—no these were massive luxury condos mixed in with penthouses. You lived on the top floor and most condos were separated handsomely with each having their own space to prevent any noise complaints. For there to be a new connection/device around only meant that it was coming from your home directly.

Your neighbor’s walls weren’t nearly as thin for your phone to reach their own wifi radius, let alone their devices. This new device was inside your apartment.

You stride over to your computer with purpose, immediately wasting no time in logging on and opening one of your newest softwares you currently had been using for work purposes. It acted as a signal tracker of all sorts, it was able to get the job done (via IP addresses of certain nearby devices). You waste no time in entering the information you needed, the sound of your fingers diligently typing away at the keyboard filling your otherwise quiet bedroom.

The computer gave you an endless source code, you read along the lines of it and came to find out it was one of those hidden cameras judging by its original source name. You scroll down a tiny bit and your breath hitches in horror, the coordinates it gave you were a mere few feet away. You wouldn’t be able to exactly pinpoint the location but knowing the signal was coming from anywhere inside of your home sent chills down your spine.

Your breathing picks up as you look around your seemingly innocent bedroom, not a thing misplaced or out of sight. You were a minimalist so it wasn’t like you had too much clutter sitting around. It can be anywhere, it can be anywhere, it can be anywhere. You repeated like a mantra in your head as you began tearing apart your bed, shoving at the pillows and comforters.

You have to find it.

. . .

Jungkook swiveled his computer chair side to side while watching the scene in front of him through his brightened computer monitors. He had three sitting around him all showing him different angles and displays. On the screen he gets a clear picture of your panicking form mindlessly throwing things around your room, looking under every crevice and surface—practically tearing your room apart to find his cameras.

“Cute.” He chuckles softly while biting his thumb, “Do you think she’ll actually find them though?” He turns his head to look at his guest with a crazed look in his eye, “Or do you think we’ll have another week with them up? I mean she’s my smart girl, ain’t a computer whiz for no reason.” He mumbles more to himself.

A low whimper—albeit muffled—comes in response, he hears shuffling behind him so he turns his chair around to look at the source of his oncoming headache. “Oh right, I forgot you can’t talk with duct tape on your mouth.” He laughs quietly while shaking his head, “I think I like you better this way though, you were always loud.” He turns back around and goes back to watching you.

“Any day now..”

The day that came after the rain was both clear and windy, you found it a perfect time to spend some time at the gym to get some things off your mind (also because you paid a hefty amount of money for this membership might as well?). You started off tame with the treadmills before you went off to some random machine, what you liked about this gym was that it was hardly ever packed. Introverts like you LOVED that.

“I watched a change in you, it’s like you never had wings,” You nod along to the song’s steady rhythm, fully enjoying the guitar in the background. The sweat was building up rather quickly as you paced yourself, you were looking forward to having a good workout today, hopefully last night's events fade away into nothing.

After you had found out about the hidden cameras, yes cameras, you went on a rampage tearing your entire house down. You were desperate to find them, not even the full blown smoking session you had after miserably failing to locate the things could soothe your poor mind and give you a night's rest. You were up tossing and turning, you think you got an hour max of sleep if anything.

Just thinking about how you failed last night is enough to have you pushing through your burning muscles and keep going. You quietly pant in frustration, face twisting in anger as you wipe the sweat from your brow. Today you weren’t going to dilly dally, you were GOING to find those pesky cameras and burn them to hell, along with whoever did this.

So far you had one obvious prime suspect, Jungkook. He knew your passcode to the house first off, put two and two together and you have yourself a (proven) theory, not a hypothesis, a theory. It would make no sense to accuse anyone else you hardly ever needed maintenance done at your place, and if an official from the apartment building came they were quick about it and under strict security measures. That’s why you paid the amount you did for your condo.

It had to be him, who else does some weird shit like this?

A huff of frustration leaves your lips as you stop for a moment to catch your breath. You close your eyes for a few seconds and count to ten before yanking one earbud out and getting up. You turn quickly and gasp when you hit a solid chest, “Shit I’m sor—Jungkook?” You peer at him in confusion and annoyance, “How did you get in here? You don’t even–ugh nevermind get out of my way.” You shake your head.

Jungkook stands there with a proud little grin on his face, arms folded over his chest as his meaty arms on display, “Workin’ hard baby?” He chuckles.

“Was, but you’re here now.” You roll your eyes and walk down the aisle of machines, “What do you want? I’m not in the best mood to deal with your antics today,” you take a deep breath, “in fact you’re the last person I wanna see right now.”

“Who’s the first?” He gives you a shit-eating grin, he ignores the ‘you’re not funny’ look you cast at him, “Relax baby, I’m just playing around. Are you always this tense?” He says as he gently grabs your shoulders and rolls the stiff muscles under his expert hands.

You suppress a tiny moan and roll your shoulders to shove him off, “Jungkook stop, I’m really not in the mood right now.” You mumble out and look at him, “Are you going to let me workout in peace or you going to bother me and waste my time?”

“Just trying to help you relax sweetheart, what’s got you this worked up for hm?” He tilts your chin up with his finger, raising a brow questioningly when you take too long to answer.

You’re stuck looking at him with glossy eyes, you just want to cry and you don’t even know why. You look off to the side and shake your head, “Come.” You grab his hand and lead him to the hallway away from everyone else, “I need you to tell me something and I want the truth Jungkook, I mean it Jungkook because if I find out you lie to me I’m so done with this and I really won’t want you near me.” You plead softly while grabbing his arms, “Are you or are you not the person who put hidden cameras in my apartment? Yes or no.”

Jungkook stands there with a look of surprise on his face, no trace of malice or nervousness anywhere. “No.” He calmly replies, “I would never do that baby,” he pulls you into his arms and runs his hand over the small of your back comfortingly, “what’s going on baby?” He whispers.

You press your cheek against his chest and hide your face, “I found out someone put cameras in my house, they’ve been watching me change, sleep, shower Jungkook.” You choke on a sob while trembling, “And I don’t know what to do. I can't find them, I've looked everywhere for them and nothing’s working!” You whine in frustration while tilting your head to look at him, “What do I do?” You whimper.

“First things first baby we need to go about this calmly or else we’ll be going in circles and go nowhere.” He says and cups your face, “Can you do that for me baby?” He asks softly watching as you nod, “Good girl, we’ll get to the bottom of this okay? I swear.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

Technically you shouldn’t have allowed that, in fact you shouldn’t even be here standing pressed up with him like this. You’re a sucker for comfort though and you need reassurance now more than ever. “I gotta go,” you whisper while pulling away.

He gently tugs you back in by your waist as he leans down with his lips ghosting over yours, “Give me a kiss sweetheart, just one.” He murmurs right before you can protest his request.

You stare at him hopelessly and bring him down for a gentle kiss, resigning to your fate since he’d most likely not let you go without a kiss. Jungkook deepens the kiss, lips moving expertly over your own with a low rumble. He cups the side of your face with his large hand and strokes over your cheek with his thumb. It elicits a moan but you slip from his grip with a wet noise, you bite your bottom lip rather roughly and stare back defiantly at him.

“You said only a kiss.” You whisper.

“I know, but I just can’t resist sweetheart.” He breathes out and hoists you up in his arms, marching down the hall to the private shower rooms.

You attack his neck in a flurry of kisses, biting down on one particular spot as payback for last time when he marked you up. He hisses low and kicks the door open to one of the stalls, immediately turning the water on. Hot water sprays over the two of you and you pull back in panic, “Shit wait my phone!” You yank your headphone out and toss your things under the door and away from the wet tile.

Jungkook doesn’t ease up in fact he pushes you against the wall and begins kissing down the column of your neck, roughly squeezing your ass through your now soaked spandex shorts. “Fuck,” he says in between kisses, “you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy baby, I came three times just thinking about your soaked little pussy on my fingers. Even now you make it so hard to control myself,” he whispers harshly against your throat.

You quiver in excitement at the thought of Jungkook beating it to the mere memory of what happened almost a WEEK ago. It had your clit throbbing pleasantly as you tilt his face to look at you, “You really think about me?” You softly murmur.

He bites his lip with a groan, like your touch is the best thing he’s ever felt, “Fuck yeah baby, every night and day. I think about all the ways I had you in my bed baby, bent over and spread open stuffed full of my cock. I can’t help it, you drive me crazy, you made me like this,” he presses his hard cock against you, “it’s your fault I’m like this baby, so take responsibility.”

You choke on a moan and bite your lip, “Sit over there,” you whisper pointing to the small ottoman in the corner, “now.” Your eyes narrow when he moves a little too slow for your liking.

Jungkook curses under his breath and lets you down, going over to the ottoman and taking a seat. He starts to push his sweats down but you stop him, “I’ll do it.” You fall to your knees on the slippery tile, your smaller hands replace his own and you tug his sweats down enough to fish his cock out.

The mushroomy head peeks out and you want to moan out loud seeing that he went commando. His cock snaps against his stomach with a wet slap, a beady string of precum dribbles out of the head and down his thick veiny shaft. Your mouth waters as you take him in your hand and stroke him slowly, listening to the low moan he lets out as his head rolls back against the wall with a dull thud.

You watch his lewd expressions closely and lean down to let your hot mouth hover over the tip, “Please baby,” he whispers, swallowing harshly. Your thighs rub together to soothe the ache you feel between them, you like this—him begging—it makes you feel like you’re in control for once. Maybe not by a lot but it greatly pleases both you and your ego.

Your lips wrap around the leaking head, tongue coming down to poke at his slit and swirl around the sensitive tip. Jungkook moans breathlessly, watching as you slowly take more and more of his cock into your mouth. Your lips are stretched obscenely around him, like you’re struggling to take him—something he’s always loved whether it be your tight little cunt or your mouth.

Jungkook grips the sides of the ottoman tightly with his knuckles turning white from his grip. You don’t like that one bit so you gently tug his hand and pull it towards your head. He gets the message and immediately buries his hand in your hair, fisting it tightly as he hisses, “Oh fuck,” his lips part as he leans his head back and swallows harshly, “like that baby, feels so fucking good.”

You choke on a whine as you struggle to take the rest of him from the sheer girth and size of him. The tip pokes the back of your throat every so often as you bob your head slowly. You missed having his cock in your mouth, the delicious weight and curve sitting so perfectly over your tongue. You find yourself eagerly swallowing around him, throat constricting around his cock as you coat his cock with a layer of slick and slobber.

“Fuck.” He growls out, his grip is unforgiving and he uses it as leverage to shove your head down on his lap until your nose is touching his pelvis. “Yes,” he gasps out, “like that, suckin’ it so good for me.”

You sputter around him and pull back with a heavy gasp with a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to the head of his messy leaky cock. “C’mere,” he pants, “can I fuck your throat baby?” He rubs his thumb over your glossy lip, “Hm?” You find yourself nodding timidly, lips parting for him as he guides his cock back into your mouth.

This time you feel more prepared for it as you set your hands on his thighs and look up at him with shiny eyes. He bites his lip and starts guiding your head—up-down, up-down—until he’s completely lost in his own pleasure using your throat like a pussy pocket.

Endless strings of “shit” and “fuck” leave his lips as he uses you to get off. A few times he’ll buck his hips up but the gagging noise you make has him settling back down. Your eyes are teary and spit dribbles from the sides of your lips and on to his thighs. The filthy noises your throat makes doesn’t help at all, in fact he’s more turned on by your gagging.

“There you go baby,” he huffs, “my own little cock sleeve, only I get to have you like this huh baby? No one else.” He growls low, “Makes me wanna lock you away some place no one will ever be able to find you in, you’re mine to look at,” he shoves your head down on his lap and holds you there, “mine to fuck,” he lets you come up for air, watching you gasp and take greedy gulps, “and mine to breed.” He darkly murmurs and pushes you back down.

You whine loudly, this shouldn’t be turning you on more than it’s supposed to. Logically this was your cue to get the fuck out of there but you couldn’t. You greedily listened and took in every single word he said and pictured it in your head. Maybe he was right, you were fucked in the head.

Jungkook licks his lips darkly, “Oh? You like that don’t you baby?” His cock twitches in interest, “You like hearing how much I wanna lock you up and keep you away like a doll?” He rolls his hips and you notice how the muscles in his abdomen flex and go taut, “Or how I’m gonna breed you and keep that little pussy full of me until you’re pregnant with our baby?” He whispers.

A long moan escapes your lips as you suck hard, Jungkook’s hands drop from your head as he lets you take control once more and bob your head. You slurp and swallow around him noisily while stroking his soft balls in your hands. You’re getting all worked up now but you’re determined to make him cum down your throat.

“Fuck baby,” he gasps, “gonna cum.” His moans rise in volume until his hand is coming down to hold you in place, face pressed tightly to his hips as he cums hard. Long moans leave him as spurt after spurt of cum shoots down your throat and fills your mouth. You do nothing but happily take it and swallow it.

“Lemme see,” he whispers, breath ragged and chest heaving as he watches you with half-lidded eyes. “Good girl.” He lazily smiles when he sees that you indeed swallowed every last drop of him.

You pant quietly and rub your sore throat, you must look like a mess with your glossy swollen lips and spit in the corners of your mouth. “Jungkook, I—” you were cut off by the sounds of someone entering the showers, heading into one of their own cubicles and starting up the water. You bite your lip and shake your head, you suppose this can wait for another time.

Another time..

You’re not the same after what happened in the gym, you might have been in a lust ridden haze but you weren’t insane to think that Jungkook was playing around when he had told you all of that stuff. On one hand you were terrified of him, but a darker part of you was scared he was right. What if you did want him to lock you away like he said he would, you were more terrified of the fact that you had enjoyed his little manic moment.

However as much as you had liked it there was no denying one thing, that he was the one who put those cameras in your home. You weren’t naive, you knew what kind of man you had dated and his obsession with you knew no bounds. He was very much capable of putting those things in your home, everything just screamed his doings.

You hadn’t let him come over to “help” you look for them, instead you spent the next few days looking for them yourself. You deep cleaned every nook and cranny in your place but nothing ended up coming out of it (well at least you had a clean house now). You needed to act fast, the more you waited the more he would spiral out of control. You thought a quick hook up was going to satiate his hunger for you? Wrong.

In the last three days you went back to having more sex than you could think of, and Jungkook was restless. He cornered you outside of your work and then you guys fucked in the private parking lot. He showed up after one of your late night convenience store runs and took you back to his place and fucked you (mind you, you were on very high alert the entire time). Just yesterday he had boldly pulled you to the side in a empty alley way before work and fucked the daylights out of you.

Nothing you said or did could get him to spill accidentally or imply that he was involved anyway with your hidden camera situation. You were desperate to get a reaction out of him, something—anything to get him to slip up. So, you did the next best thing that came up in your head.

You fucked Hoseok right there on your bed, letting him spread you wide and plow your tender little pussy for Jungkook to see.

Your lips part with breathy sighs and moans slipping out of your mouth. Hoseok wasn’t a bad lover by any means, this man knew how to angle his hips and move them at a pace that definitely made your mouth water in arousal. You had one hand tangled in his hair, holding him by the back of his neck with his face tucked away in your shoulder and neck. Hoseok didn’t seem to mind, in fact he was openly moaning into your naked shoulder with his lips dragging over the soft expanse of your skin.

“Seok—right there,” you grip him tighter and bite down on your bottom lip. You hook your chin over his shoulder and stare up at the ceiling in your pleasure filled haze, lips parting in a ‘o’ as no sounds seem to leave you.

Hoseok hugs you closer to his hot body and begins moving with purpose, growling low and muttering curses in your ear. His cock strikes deep and brushes against your g-spot ever so slightly, just teetering on the edge of hitting it. Your eyes slip shut a lewd “mm” leaves you as your nails dig into his back. Hoseok turns his head and captures your lips in his, moaning deep into the kiss while grinding his hips in slow circles.

The filthy noise your pussy makes when he does so has your mouth watering from the sound. You feel more dollops of slick slide down your perineum and between your cheeks on to the bed below. Hoseok sneaks a hand below and rubs his thumb over your throbbing bud, circling the tender button and pressing down to apply pressure.

“Seok..!” You gasp and throw your head back on your pillow.

Through your blurry gaze you come across the same little red dot from before, the one you swore was the source of your undoing. You stare at it for a few seconds until you finally catch it in its blinking moments. You hide your tiny smirk by turning to bury your face in Hoseok’s neck, now you know where at least one of them was.. Won’t be long until you find the next, and the next.

You hummed a random tune under your breath while going over the mental list you made in your head on what you needed to buy for the week’s groceries. You’re feeling refreshed and happily fucked out from the night before, you swear you wouldn’t be opposed to another night like that if it ever came down to Hoseok asking you on another date.

You’re smiling to yourself when a rough hand reaches out and yanks you into the alleyway opening, you jump in terror and whip your head up to see who the deranged lunatic is. It’s just Jungkook (thankfully). “What was that for?” You shake your head and give him an exasperated look.

Jungkook looks pissed, like never before and you’re not entirely too sure whether to be scared or turned on by it. “So this is what we’re doing now huh? You finally tired of me after having your fun and leading me on like a dog in the streets?” He says in unbridled rage while looking down at you with a piercing gaze.

You squirm in his hold and try to unlatch his hand but he merely presses you into the wall more firmly and holds you there with flared nostrils. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, now let me go!” You glare, you’ve finally had it with him just tossing you around like a doll and moving you to his liking, “I said let go Jungkook!” You push him roughly and watch as he stumbles back, hitting the wall across from you as he breathes heavy in anger.

“So you’re not going to tell me about that fucker you took into your apartment last night? Hoseok was it? You let that…motherfucker put his hands all over you?” He growls in anger.

There it was, all your suspicions turned true as you stared back at him with wide eyes. How he could have known was obviously only one way, “How did you find out about that?” You softly ask.

“I saw you take him in there.” He stands with his fists clenched tightly. Oh how you should’ve known what a smooth little liar he was.

You had seen this coming in hindsight, he may have the upperhand but you were always a tad bit quicker and smarter than he was. You had made sure to use the private parking underground entrance when you and Hoseok had both gone to your place together, so there was no way of Jungkook knowing at all—well through his hidden camera of course.

“You’re lying.” You softly reply and look down at your phone with a bitter smile, “You don’t fool me Jungkook, you haven’t since the beginning.” The accusation sits on the tip of your tongue as your finger slips and accidentally presses on the call button over Seulgi’s contact. Your phone starts dialing her number and before you can hang up the call you hear it..

A faint buzzing sound in Jungkook’s pocket, growing more and more deafening to your ears as you both stand in a face-off waiting for either of you to say something. Jungkook tries to poorly mask his surprise but it’s too late—you know.

“I have to go now,” you take a step back slowly, “I just remembered a last minute phone call I have to make.” You keep a close eye on his movements while backing out of the alleyway slowly and then turning hot on your heels, you need to get the fuck out of there.

. . .

Jungkook brings the phone out and shuts it off, “Fuck..” He mutters as he paces back and forth while running a hand through his messy hair. You know. Everything he has done up until now has gone to shit, he has to speed things up, yes, there’s no telling what you’ll do now that you know everything.

“It didn’t have to be this way baby..” He slides his hands into his pockets while walking out of the alley, “If only you would come back,” he chuckles bitterly, “now look what you made me do..” He tosses Seulgi’s phone into the nearby trash.

Jungkook starts singing “do I wanna know” under his breath.

You push through the crowds of people on the sidewalk, rushing through the masses with millions of thoughts running through your head. You’re not even sure what the hell you want to do now, you contemplated going to the police but you didn’t have enough evidence to properly accuse Jungkook. If you went in there now they’d just brush it off as another crazy ex story.

Just the thought of him hurting Seulgi made your heart ache in pain as silent tears streamed down your face. Seulgi didn’t deserve this, none of it, it was your fault for having such a crazy ex boyfriend who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Now look where that got you, look where that got her..

“Fuck!” You sob out while pushing your hair out of your face and throwing your phone in pure desperation and frustration. You pace back and forth in your living room with tons of ideas but zero solutions. What were you going to do now? Jungkook was out of his fucking mind and now you were losing yours too.

You knew you had to draw him in somehow, without him growing suspicious of you and your motives. Jungkook wasn’t stupid and you couldn’t try to treat him as such because then he’d for sure lash out and your plans would be ruined. You need to lure him in, if you could somehow get him into your apartment and use it as proof that he broke in then you could go from there.

You take a seat at the dining table with your face buried in your hands, knee bouncing nervously as you take deep breaths. You know what you have to do, you’re just scared. Not of him, but of yourself. A deeper part of you wants him back, and that’s what terrifies you the most. You might not make it out of this, sane you mean.

When night falls you lay there on your bed staring up at the white ceiling with your hands over your tummy. You’re nervous, paranoia rampant in your body as you attempt to calm your nerves. You had thought about it the entire time you made dinner, the food ended up being half eaten since you were too nervous to eat properly. As you laid there only one thing was on your mind: the cameras.

During dinner you had come to the realization that you hadn’t taken the cameras out yet, and that’s when the ingenious plan came to your head. You knew he was watching—probably was right now as a matter of fact—you were going to use just that alone to get him here. How? The only way you knew how.

After lighting up your candles to ease your nerves, you dimmed the lights in your room to a low fuschia pink color. You had showered and picked the prettiest silk nightdress you owned, laying in plain view for his pleasure. With a hitched breath as you slowly bend your knees with your feet planted on the plush comforter. Your legs slowly part as you bring the dress around your hips, you hadn’t bothered with wearing any panties—your cunt laid bare in the open with slick sticking between your soft folds.

You brought your fingers down, swiping through the mess as you moan quietly when creamy slick stuck to your digits. You coated them thoroughly before bringing your fingers up to taste yourself, a low quiet whine leaving you as memories of Jungkook doing the same to you came flashing in your head. You began to imagine it was him feeding you your own slick, long rough fingers shoved down your throat as he whispered obscenities in your ear.

“Good girl,” he’d say.

Your eyes flutter shut as your other hand comes up to cup your tit gently squeezing the mound through your dress. “Suck it baby,” he’d whisper in your ear, “get my fingers nice and wet, there you go–atta girl,” another broken moan escapes as you pinch your hard nipple through the flimsy material.

“Gonna fuck you nice and slow, you’d like that baby wouldn’t you?”

You whisper a breathy ‘yes’ as you move your slick fingers down to your pussy, “Want it so bad,” you moan, “want you so bad Jungkookie,” you mewl out while rubbing the pads of your fingers against your swollen clit. “Want you just as bad as you want me,” you’re not so sure you’re lying there, “need you to take me—make me yours, wanna be yours.” Your back arches as you dip your ring finger into your greedy little puckered up hole.

“Open up for me sweetheart, gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Gonna be the best girl for you,” your head thrashes from side to side as you teasingly fuck your finger in and out of your soaked pussy, “only you baby,” you keen, “no one else, not even Hoseok.” You gasp out as your thighs shake, “Want you to come take me baby, keep me and breed me.” Your lips part in a silent ‘o’ as you fit another finger into your cunt.

Your chest heaves as you angle your fingers upwards to hit your g-spot, your cunt squelches and drips with your frenzied movements. The noises you’re making combined with the wet noises below become white noise, your heart is pounding in your chest and sweat builds on your brow. “Fuck,” you sob out in pleasure while moving your free hand and resting it around your slender neck.

The pleasure heightens as you begin to imagine it’s Jungkook looming over you, hand around your neck and his fingers buried knuckle deep in your sopping pussy. Your toes curl and you find yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, it’s right there—just a little more. You pick up the pace until you’re slamming your fingers in and out of your poor cunt, striking your g-spot head on over and over again.

“Go on and cum for me baby, be a good girl and squirt for me, I know you can. There you go sweetheart, get ‘em nice and wet for me,”

A loud sob escapes your lips as you’re locked in place, your pussy quivers and throbs slowly as jets of slick spills from you. You cum harder than ever, vision going white as your pussy throbs and goosebumps form all over your body. You physically have to close your eyes from how strong your orgasm was.

“Jungkook..” You whimper softly and let your fingers slip out of your soaked pussy. You curl up into a tiny ball on your side, panting softly as your eyes droop sleepily. You’re vaguely aware of your surroundings—the candles, the mess on your bed, the slick between your thighs.

You just want to sleep now. With a tired moan you sit up in disarray, looking around your room with dazed eyes. It was now a waiting game on whether Jungkook wanted to show or not, you just hoped you didn’t lose yourself in the process..

. . .

You wake up around midnight delirious and half asleep. After cleaning your room you had settled in for the night and went to bed dreaming of nothing in particular. If anything you were having one of the best nights of sleep before you were woken up by something or rather someone. You sit up half awake while rubbing your eyes to clear the blur from your vision.

Your apartment is deathly quiet, you sit there trying to decipher any noise but nothing comes. A beat goes by and nothing happens. You slump over with a tired sigh, “This is nonsense.” You mutter and get out of bed, you figure a glass of water will do you good and send you right back into your peaceful slumber.

You slip out of your room quietly when you hear it. The front door keypad beeps loudly as someone—or rather Jungkook—punches in the code to your apartment. You freeze mid-way down the hall, staring through the corner of the wall as the door is pushed open and Jungkook’s dark figure steps in. Everything shifts from zero to hundred real quick, you cover your mouth and run quietly down the hall to the guest bathroom, slipping in quietly and standing with your back to the door.

“Shit, shit,” you whisper, you didn’t have your phone and Jungkook was definitely going to stop in your room first before anything. You crack the door open and flinch when you hear Jungkook treading down to your room, pushing your door open slowly as he slips in quietly. You watch with a bated breath, flinching once more when you hear him laugh from inside your room.

“Oh baby is this what we’re going to do now?” He says as he re-emerges with your phone in his hand, “You wanna play a little game of hide and seek is that it?” He coos while whistling as he luckily heads back out in the opposite direction, “Okay baby, we can play your little game if you want.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before stepping out quietly, you run back into your room and grab one of your pens from your desk, “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he loudly calls out from the living room. You drop a few pens and hiss as you whip your head up to make sure he isn’t coming.

“Oh baby you must be sick in the head,” he whistles, “making me chase you like a big bad wolf.” He tuts you, “Why don’t you just come out? Just wanna talk.”

You take the opportunity to peek out of your room and throw the ballpoint pen down the hall nearby your guest bedroom door. It hits the marble floor with a loud thud, the noise deafening in your ear as you sit still and wait for him to reply. Jungkook pauses and then you hear his heavy footsteps as he passes by your room and down the hall, “Knock, knock you in here?”

You peek out and make sure he enters the guest room before you slip out and run down the hall, slipping into the open kitchen as you duck behind the marble counters.

“We didn’t have to do this the hard way sweetheart, we both know you want this—us. I saw the little show you put on for me, you looked so fucking good moaning my name like that,” Jungkook says while going into each room one by one, “Bet you wished it was my fingers in your little cunt.”

You peer over the counter, immediately ducking when you see him step back out from the hallway, “Oh the things I wanna do to you,” he whistles, “if you come out now baby all is forgiven and I can show you just how much I loved your little show baby. Don’t you want that? I’ll get on my knees and eat that little pussy out like you deserve.” He says as he steps down to the living room area.

He’s so close, your heart is hammering in your chest right now as you crawl away from the counters and to the hallway again, “I’ll treat you so good, I’ll have you dripping in no time. After I eat your cunt baby I’ll fuck you with my cock just the way you like it. Going to have you stuffed full of my cum like I promised darling.” He’s in the dining room area now.

“So just come out baby,” he says softly, “I’m begging.”

You hear him open the door to your study and you waste no time in quickly standing and making a break for it to the front door. However as you step out from behind the wall Jungkook steps in front of you with a wicked smile, “I got you,” He immediately brings you into his arms and covers your nose/mouth with a white rag.

You scream in terror and begin pounding your fists against his arms, pushing back and trying to buck his hand off your face. Jungkook hushes you gently as he kisses your ear, “It’s okay baby, just let go for me. I got you, everything’s alright.” He purrs gently in your ear while pressing the rag tighter against your face.

Your lungs burn from the lack of air, you hysterically sob and huff through your nose while the fight slowly drains from you. You’re dizzy from lack of oxygen and inhaling the strong ass chemicals. Not once does Jungkook stop comforting you while he holds your limp body. “There you go,” he coos softly, “just close your eyes..”

Your vision begins to fade in and out as you sway, you didn’t notice when his grip on you slowly eased up. The rag was no longer covering your face but the chloroform was doing its job. It made a strong wave of dizziness hit you all at once as you felt yourself fall forward. Jungkook didn’t let you hit the ground, however the last thing you heard was his soft whispering.

“What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you,” he softly sang.

Your eyes flutter open when a stray beam of sunlight hits you across the face from where you’re lying down. The first thing you notice is the windy breeze coming in through the opened window, the white curtains flowy as they move with the wind. You blink through the confusion and slowly turn your head to examine the rest of the room.

Black bars. You inch forward slowly and grab the black metal, looking up to see the same thing above you. Cage. Your breathing picks up as you begin pulling at the metal, growing more desperate by the second as you shake the cage with such force. “No, no, no,” the tears begin to flow before you can even stop them.

A strong wave of nausea and pain wafts over your tired body, you rub at your head to soothe the headache while rattling the cage handle violently. “Somebody help me..! Please, if you’re there please help me!” You sob out while falling limp, forehead pressed to the metal bars in defeat.

A few minutes of your soft sobs filling the room pass by, you perk up when the door creaks open, “Help me please,” you softly whimper while rolling your head lazily to look at this person. Your vision blurs and you blink a couple of times until Jungkook’s standing tall and clear in your peripheral.

“Might have gone a bit too overboard with the chloroform baby,” Jungkook’s face twists in worry as he squats down to your level in front of the cage, “hey, hey shh, it’s okay baby I’m here.” He reaches out to wipe your tears with his thumb.

You flinch violently and yank yourself back so fast it gives you whiplash, “Don’t fucking touch me,” you spit, “what the hell is the meaning of all this?! Tell me right now Jungkook.” You glare tiredly while curling into your side away from his reach.

Jungkook ignores you and instead pushes a glass of water and some food under the cage opening, “I bet you’re hungry, here it’s been a cool minute actually..was kinda worried you’d never wake up.” He chuckles under his breath, “Go on baby, I made your favorite.” He says as he beckons you closer.

“Jungkook,” you softly whisper, “where am I? What did you do to Seulgi—!” You yelp when the cage rattles as he slams his hand against it violently. His friendly demeanor instantly disappears once Seulgi’s name leaves your mouth.

“I’ve never liked that meddling bitch,” he growls, “she’s the reason this entire thing began and ended the way it did! Seulgi didn’t know how to keep her fuckin’ mouth shut and her head out of our business and look what happened!” He shakes his head, “But if you really must know I already let her go so you can stop asking about her. She was useful for one thing at least...won’t be worrying anytime soon about her running her mouth I bet.” He mutters more to himself.

You let out a breath of relief while sagging, “…I won’t forgive you for this Jungkook,” you softly say, “not this time. I gave you so many chances in the past but you never took me seriously and now look at you. You stooped this low because you couldn’t take no for an answer. When will you understand that I do not want to be with you, EVER.”

“You see that’s where the lying comes in,” Jungkook bitterly smiles, “I know you don’t mean that shit because you had so many chances to run to the police or better yet just ignore me and did you? No, so don’t come to me with that shit that you don’t want me because deep down I know it fucking kills you to say that you do miss me and want us.”

You stay quiet and stare back at him, of course he was right. You’re an enabler, you had so many chances to report him for stalking and harassment but did you? Maybe it was you wanting his attention but in the end you had no one to blame but yourself for indulging him and leading him on.

“When you decide to stop lying to yourself we’ll talk,” Jungkook calmly says while getting up, “drink your water and eat your food, you’ve been out for a day and a half.” He says and leaves you to your devices.

You sit there with a blank expression on your face, and the food continues to sit out all night—untouched.

. . .

Jungkook doesn’t keep you in the cage for too long, in fact he lets you out the next day and shows you around the house. It’s a two story in the middle of the woods—far from the city you presume—Jungkook doesn’t let you wander past the glass doors leading to the outside, he keeps it locked with a keypad like the front door. You can only wander around the house and lay all day as the time flies by.

It’s close to a month when you finally ask him what the date is. “Oh.” You look down at your bowl of oats and stare at it like it’s so much more interesting, “So close to a month?” You mumble more to yourself.

Jungkook hums, “Baby the fruit,” he motions to the plates of fruit he cut up for your acai bowl you wanted to make, “flies are going to get all over the food and it won’t be any good anymore.” He says as he pushes a plate of bananas towards you.

“Thanks.” You smile flatly, “Pass me the strawberries too please.” You don’t know why you’re being civil with him, in fact you kind of don’t know why you just don’t feel anything towards him—no anger, no malice, no nothing. You just kind of go back to how things were when you both were together.

Jungkook holds the plate out for you, his knuckles brush against your hand and a pleasant little shiver runs down your spine. Another thing you’ve been having issues with, you were so fucking touch-starved it was like you were itching for him to touch you. Any form of touch you greedily ate it up, however your pride stopped you from seeking him out. You refused to let him know how much he affected you.

“Thanks.” You softly say while tucking your head and distracting yourself with your acai bowl.

Jungkook smiles lovingly, “You’re welcome baby.” He gently kicks your foot with his, reminding you of your stark size difference, how his long legs easily reached yours. You bit your lip harshly, tasting the metallic tang of blood. You just hope you can hold out for longer.

These days you spend lounging around has definitely given you time to think about things. Maybe you’re fucked in the head too but you knew who exactly Jungkook was. You knew the type of person he was then and you most definitely knew now. From the very beginning you were very self-aware of his tendencies and unhealthy obsession. It was something you kept more to yourself.

When people asked if you noticed how strange he was acting you simply turned the shoulder and played the innocent card. Of course you knew, and you fucking loved it. The only REAL reason why you left was because Jungkook wasn’t listening to you and things were starting to look bad on the both of you, people were talking and you didn’t enjoy looking like the fool whenever people asked if Jungkook was planning on actually staying for his therapy sessions.

You had a thing for wanting all the bad things you shouldn’t want.

And it was too late, you had already fallen in too deep to get out.

“What you cookin?” Jungkook lazily asks as he bends low to hide his face in your shoulder, his arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you back until your back hits his chest.

“Was craving ramen.” You softly reply, the question you had already sitting on the tip of your tongue. Jungkook notices your hesitance but doesn’t comment on it, he only turns his face to kiss the side of your neck with a lazy hum. “I was wondering..” You quietly start, “Do you still..smoke?”

Jungkook pauses, “Yeah why?”

You sigh softly as he begins sucking on your neck, “Wanted to see if you could bring some pre-rolls or something. I don’t know why but my nerves have been all over the place lately and I can’t relax.” You lean your head back on his shoulder with a noncommittal hum.

Jungkook chuckles quietly, “Don’t worry baby, I have some bud stashed away. We can smoke some together right now if you want to?” He sways side to side with you, “How does that sound, hm?” He drops his head on your shoulder once more.

You nod, “Perfect.”

Jungkook has the blunt ready when you both finish eating. He lights it and hands it over to you, “Smoke as much as you want, I’ll roll another one if you finish that one.” He says as he lays back on the couch lazily while scrolling through the selection of movies and shows. You dive right in without hesitation and relax on the couch as you fill the air between you two with clouds of white.

You both pass the blunt back and forth until there’s no more of it left and you’re both staring at the TV with half-lidded eyes. Jungkook has his hands crossed behind his head as he watches whatever tv show he put on. “C’mere baby,” he smacks his lips, “wanna hold you.”

You obey easily, slipping into his lap as you lie down on top of him with your head over his heart. You listen to his heartbeat with a soft sigh, “Do we have cookie dough, wanna make some cookies.” You murmur softly while closing your eyes.

Jungkook grunts, “I think.” He replies, “Maybe, check.” He rubs your back and drops his hand down to your ass, resting it there for comfort as he squeezes your cheek through your velvet shorts.

“I will.. Give me a second.” You reply, Jungkook hums in response and everything goes quiet after that. Soon his little butt pats stop and Jungkook lays there peacefully sleeping under you. Your tired eyes drift over to him and then the front door, you close your eyes and hold your breath. It was now or never. Weed wasn’t nearly enough to make someone completely knock out for sure but you think back to the small pill bottle sitting innocently in the cupboard.

. . .

Jungkook sleepily smacks his lips as his eyelids flutter open, his vision is blurry and it takes a few minutes of blinking for him to adjust to the bright lights. He hears cupboards being slammed, drawers opened and then shut. He makes a noise of confusion and looks over with a confused look, “Baby?” He rasps out.

Your head whips over to him, “You’re awake.” You walk over calmly and hold a glass of water, “Drink.” You hold the cup up to his lips, “You’re gonna need your voice right now.”

“Huh? What for?” He notices his hands are tied behind his back on the chair, he looks down to see ropes tied around his legs as well. He looks back at you with realization coming over his face, “Baby?”

You force the cup into his mouth and make him drink the water, some of it spills out the sides of his mouth as he sputters and coughs. “Now, tell me what the code for the front door is Jungkook.” You stand in front of him with a stony expression.

Jungkook quietly chuckles, “And why exactly would I do that for hm? You think it’s that simple baby, how cute. Now untie me and all is forgotten,” he leans his head back with a long sigh, “C’mon, don’t you wanna go back to cuddling and watching that movie sweetheart? Promise I’ll even make it nice and warm for you.” He smirks devilishly.

You let out a breath of desperation and irritation, “I’m not playing around right now Jungkook. Either you give it to me now or I break through the windows and leave you here tied up.”

Jungkook looks at you with a dopey grin, “Go ahead, the nearest bus stop from here is three hours away. Won’t take long before I find you and bring you home with me baby.” He licks his lips and eyes you up and down, “Though I must say, you’re really doing wonders to me with those little shorts baby.” He purrs.

You close your eyes and count to five, “Fuck you Jungkook.” You whisper out while pacing back and forth in front of him.

“I’m righttttt here, all you gotta do is pull my cock out—” His face whips to the side as you slap him in pure anger, “and sit right on it.” He finishes with a smirk as he looks at you calmly, “Better yet, untie me, it’s the pent up stress right? I’ll give it to you so good if you just untie me baby. We can take it to the bed and have a nice night you and I,” he licks his lips.

You grab the sides of your head as you scream out in frustration, “You make my life a living hell! It’s all your fucking fault I’m like this, I couldn’t sleep for months after I left you and then you appearing out of the blue wasn’t helping me! I would have been one hundred percent better off without you coming into my life at all, you ruined me! I tried Jungkook,” you whisper, “I really did but none of them were you. No one compared, not even Hoseok. They couldn’t give me what I wanted and it’s all your fault,” you grit your teeth and stomp over to straddle him, roughly cupping his face, “so take responsibility.” You hiss.

Jungkook licks his lips as his eyes drop down to your lips and then you, “So take it,” he whispers, “take what you want.”

You stare at him for a few minutes before smashing your lips against his in a rough teeth-clashing kiss. Jungkook moans and leans into the kiss, chasing after your lips as you both roughly move against each other. He hisses when you bite down on his lower lip and tug gently. “Baby—”

“Shut the fuck up.” You glare while reaching below to push his sweats down his thighs and around his knees, “You don’t get to baby me,” you briefly stand to shove your shorts down, “not after all the hell you put me through these months. You have any idea how much I wanted you?” You climb back on to his lap once your panties come off, “No—you don’t.”

Jungkook’s mouth gapes open as he watches you lick your fingers and bring them down between your soft thighs, “So no, you’re not going to take this from me. You’re going to sit there and watch me fuck myself,” he moans loudly when the words leave your lips, “and you’re not going to touch me until I say so. If you try to rush or beg me I’m going to gag you, understood?”

“Yes baby.” He whispers back.

You circle your clit slowly with the tip of your finger to ease some tension you had. Jungkook’s eyes flicker down to watch you as you work your fingers over your clit slowly. You bite your lip to suppress your moan, thighs spreading a tiny bit more around his hips to give him more access.

“I thought about you a lot, you know?” You softly sigh while rolling your hips slowly, “Can’t tell you how many times I fucked myself thinking about you..” You cut off with a loud moan as you pop a finger inside your sopping little cunt.

Jungkook bites down on his lip as he looks up to watch your face closely, “I even imagined it was you whenever I fucked someone else.” You whisper darkly in his ear while pumping your finger in and out, “Hoseok could never, didn’t even compare to your cock.” You bite his earlobe teasingly while reaching down to wrap around his cock with your free hand.

“Fuck baby,” he whines, “let me out, c’mon, I’ll fuck you so good.” He pleads softly.

You squeeze your hand around his throbbing shaft, “What did I say?” You whisper, relishing in his pained moan, “If you’re good for me I’ll let you fuck me..all, night, long.” You peck his cheek. It’s enough for Jungkook to quieten down as he pants softly. You grin in satisfaction and pop your finger out, “Open.” You press against his lips.

Jungkook easily opens his mouth and you slip your finger in, he greedily sucks and swirls his tongue around the wet digit before letting go with a low pop after he cleans your slick off. You giggle quietly and run your thumb over the head of his cock, “Missed your cock baby,” you softly smirk, “missed how well it fills me up, how fat and big it is…just right for me.” You aim the weeping head over your folds, rubbing him back and forth as you smear your slick around.

Jungkook throws his head back, “Yeah?” He breathes out, “Why don’t you slip it in baby? Fuck yourself on my cock, nice and slow.”

You let the tip catch on your hole, prodding at you stubbornly as he threatens to slip inside. “Do me a favor baby..” You whisper, watching his eyes brighten as he perks up, “Shut the fuck up.” You bring him in for a kiss, effectively shutting him up while you press his cock into you.

Your hips raise and slowly inch downwards as you slip his fat cock inside, you moan against his lips as his cock slowly slides inch for inch. You let his cock go and wrap your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as you slowly come to a halt once you sit down on his lap bottomed out. Jungkook groans low through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut as he shakes from being held back by the ropes.

“Fuck,” you sigh in pleasure while circling your hips, “so good..” You bounce on his cock lightly, the fat of your ass jiggling as you move up and down, side to side. Jungkook’s face twists in pleasure as he leans his head back. You lick your lips and watch him with close eyes, “You like that Jungkookie? Love how tight I feel around you baby?”

“God yes,” Jungkook whispers as he shudders, “love having your little pussy wrapped around my cock. Wanna stay like this forever.” He groans out, “C’mon baby, untie me and I’ll fuck you just the way you deserve. Gonna have you screaming and crying all over my cock.”

You mewl loudly and bounce faster on his lap, the very thought of him fucking you like he’s promsing is tempting you to untie him. But just as quickly as the temptation came, it goes. You end up slamming your hips down until your ass slaps against his thighs loudly, his cock slams deep and hits your g-spot. “Mmm..!” You throw your head back.

Jungkook hisses in pleasure as he mindlessly begs for you to let him go, he alternates between loud moans and slurred words. Your thighs begin to ache rather quickly and your pace begins slowing down. You switch from bouncing to grinding, rocking your hips quickly and in ways that have him gasping for more.

The poor chair begins creaking under the weight of you both, loud squelches fill the room as slick dribbles down your pussy and his cock to his balls. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as you stop to press down and work your hips in circles of eights. “Oh fuckkk..” You whisper out as your thighs tremble, “Jungkook..!” You squeal as your orgasm takes you by surprise.

Jungkook in that moment manages to untie the knots around his wrists, he pulls you closer on his lap while biting down on your shoulder, “Untie my feet, right now.” He growls, “I played your little game now it’s my turn.”

You mewl shakily and reach down to pull both knots free, he wastes no time in lifting you up as he carries you to the table, bending you over the surface. You gasp in surprise when his hand swoops down to smack you hard across your ass. “Stay still.” He growls as he lines his cock up with your pussy and shoves it in one go.

Your mouth falls open as he begins plowing your pussy like no tomorrow. Jungkook grips your hips tight while smacking his hips into your ass, watching as your cheeks collide with his pelvis. He grunts with effort and reaches down to bring the hem of his shirt up to his mouth, biting it as he holds it up to watch the way his cock disappears into your drenched pussy.

“Jungkook..!” You cry out, “P-Please, ‘s too much,” you drool while gripping the edge of the table.

The table screeches loudly as it shakes from the force of his thrusts. Jungkook reaches around to pinch and rub at your sensitive clit, ignoring your squeals and pained moans. His balls slap against your folds with wet pap sounds, you can tell by the way his pace is stuttering that he’s close to coming too. You purposely clench around him, relishing in the muffled moan he lets out.

He grabs at your hip bones painfully, digging his fingernails in as his hips stutter in their movements. He slams in once, twice, and finally a third until he goes still. His cock throbs and twitches violently as his cum fills you spurt after spurt. He releases a long moan, idly grinding in to milk his cock/orgasm.

“Fuck..” You whisper breathlessly while laying on the table with your cheek against the wood, your eyes glazed over.

Beats of silence pass by until Jungkook’s leaning over to whisper in your ear, “You’re mine baby.” He says while kissing your ear and neck.

You hum quietly and lean into his touch, “I love you.” You softly whisper, no longer against the idea of loving and wanting to be with him. Jungkook hums back, he sounds pleased with your answer as he smooths his hands over your hips. You close your eyes tiredly and lick your dry lips, hearing him utter back to you.

“I love you too baby.”

You drowned out the sounds of the people laughing and cheering in the background. You looked around the brightened room with a smile on your red painted lips, greeting some of the on-goers as they passed by you. Tonight was somewhat of a special night for you—your birthday. All your friends and family surrounded and showered you with endless gifts and praises.

However none were Jungkook.

He was pressed up against your back just laughing and talking with friends, catching up if you will. “Me and y/n decided to work things out you know? We took a last minute trip out of town and rented out a cabin to get away from everything you know?” He said.

You merely smile when they turn to look at you, “We decided to get back together.”

Everyone cheered and congratulated you both, however one person in particular stood back from the others. Seulgi. She hadn't been the same since Jungkook let her go, you can see just how much it affected her seeing him. Although Jungkook swore to you he didn’t harm her physically, the damage was already done mentally.

Seulgi stood far back from the others, eyeing you and Jungkook with both distaste and fear in her eyes. She hadn’t made a move to come talk to you at all, but you didn’t care. If anything you continued on like nothing was happening, like there wasn’t any animosity between you, her, and Jungkook. She knew better.

Jungkook smugly turns to look at Seulgi, raising his glass of wine at her as a toast before taking a sip. He curls his hand right over your tummy, where the tiniest of bumps hides underneath your dress. Seulgi can only turn away, if only they knew just how far Jeon Jungkook was willing to go in the name of love.

If only they knew the secrets you chose to keep..

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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wyvernest · 11 months

Text

tú eres mi vida

( part 1) (next part)

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: a lot of fluff, suggestiveness, foreplay?

summary: with the opportunity of a surprise, miguel makes the most of your honeymoon

He walked away from the hammock with you, hanging over his shoulder, ass in the air, making sure to keep a large hand over it, both to conceal you from wandering eyes and to grope at the plump flesh every now and then.

All you're seeing is the beaten path through the shore's sand and the junction between the beach and the hotel's green gardens. He skips the alley leading to your room, your eyes widening in amusement. You know he's good with directions, as long as you're talking about the spider-verse. Otherwise, in the blissful comfort of your honeymoon, you may have caught him further away from the stoic, attentive leader he's gotten used to being.

"Miguel, baby, you missed it. It's that way." you giggle lightly, tapping his lower back, careful enough not to make him feel bad. The last thing you want to do is blow off his mood.

"I know." His tone is confident, teasing. Your chuckles are silenced abruptly at the reply, utter perplexity taking over you. All the places and facilities around the resort flash through your head one by one, none fitting for what you were intending to do. And you haven't discussed love-making in seawater yet, either.

"Where are we going then?" you inquire, after throughout accession of all possibilities.

"Paciencia, cariño. It's a surprise." He reveals, full of pride and excitement, voice lowered and playful. You shiver, gripping into his waist to support your upper body and look around, scanning for said surprise.

He gets to the entrance of the private beach, still not stopping. With a sudden jump, he hops on the pier, your weight secure over his shoulder. You can't deny the wetness gathering in your panties at the thought of how effortlessly he carries you around, showing everyone that you're his, and most importantly, that he's about to make the most of it.

You watch the waves crashing softly against the darkened wood of the pier, clear and cold. You feel the breeze blow up over your bare thighs, shivering. He runs a hand over the exposed skin, up underneath the fabric of your flimsy skirt, stopping shy of the small mound of your cunt. You squirm slightly, needing his touch up higher, but he retracts his wandering hand and tightens his grip over you.

Finally, he reaches the water bungalows. Small huts connected by piers in a web-like distribution. Your eyes fixate on the king-size bed sheltered by wooden walls on all sides, except for the one facing the sea. Open and free, white curtains flowed by the bed frames, carried on the wind's wings like sails on a ship.

His knees hit the bed before he lays you down on the soft, clean, white mattress, his back facing the open view. You shift under his shadow, scurrying back towards the bed frame, watching him crawl over to you, slow and methodical.

He grabs your ankles faster than the time it would’ve taken you to escape and rile him up further, pulling you under him so that he’s straddling your hips, holding you in place. You lift yourself on your elbows, attempting to move your legs out of the cage, gazing up at him.

“What d’you think?” He asks, toying with the elastic of your skirt.

“I’ve never been happier.”

You drop your head back down on the bed, having stopped fighting the impossible hold he’s forced you in, between his muscular thighs. He smiles sweetly, satisfied with himself.

“It’s been almost impossible to find one of these available. But now that I have you here,”, he bends down, an inch away from your face. His hot breath fans your mouth, and you take it all in, the scent of him, the fresh bedding, the sea breeze. Your eyelids fall heavy, and he closes the gap between you, kissing you slowly, unhurriedly, like you have all eternity to spend together in paradise, and you’re just getting started. And maybe that’s exactly what it is.

You taste his lips, strawberry sweet and ever loving, feeling your eyes roll back at the sensation. He cups your face with one hand, holding you from fainting, and you let him lead. You feel his body move against yours, yearning to be closer and closer. His happy trail rubs onto your stomach, skin to skin. Every ridge of his defined abdomen pushes down onto you, chest rising and falling with each breath.

Struggling to keep up with the kiss, you sense his hands drift lower, to your waist, and you flinch ever so slightly, muscle memory kicking in. You mentally pray that he won’t–

And he does. He resumes his earlier attack, tickling you and abusing all the sensitive and funny spots he knows so well.

You scream through the uncontrollable laughter, fragments of his name that he otherwise hears in a different context, but which he adores nonetheless. His grip loosens momentarily, and you slip away like a cobra in desert sand. Before you can manage to get up and make a run for it, he grabs onto your skirt, his talons ripping through the material, leaving you in your shirt and panties. You protest, but he’s quick to drag you back on the bed. He laughs wholeheartedly, pinning you to the white sheets. You’re more than certain that the racket can be heard from miles away, but you couldn’t care less.

In an attempt to shield yourself, you bring your arms to your sides, tears already rolling down your eyes as you’re running out of breath and energy. He stops, and squeezes his thighs around your waist. You’re not leaving.

As he gathers the white sheets, pulling them over you both, you try to ignore the weight of his half-hard cock that’s now resting on your midriff. Or not.

You run your hands up his burly thighs, over his hip bone and up his abdomen, feeling the muscles ripple with his movements. He gives you a knowing look, bringing the sheet over his head, trapping you in a semi-transparent cocoon.

“Who’s gonna see us? The fish?”, you manage to say, feeling the remnants of an explosive giggle kick back in right after you’ve calmed down.

“I’m not taking any chances. There are speedboats.” he mumbles, as he adjusts above you.

“They’re not allowed so close to the-” he cuts off the rest of the sentence, slamming his lips onto your once again, and just like earlier, he has you melting in his arms in no time. It’s almost embarrassing how he manages to surf you through emotions so quickly and effortlessly, but you blame it on the beauty of being utterly and irrevocably in love. His lips move against yours with expert ease and precision, stopping every now and then to breathe, barely breaking away, as your exhales mix together in desperation and fascination.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist, basking in the heat of his body radiating down on you. A groan reverberates in his chest at the action, resulting in him moaning in your mouth.

You continue to make out in the cool shade of the bungalow, sheltered from the blazing July sun, and every second you feel like it’s the first time again, butterflies in your stomach, heart about to burst.

When he finally parts from you, chest heaving, eyes half lidded, you feel as if you’ve been cut from a lifeline. He moves to your flushed cheeks, the kisses are open-mouthed and slow.

“Te amo. Tu eres mi alma”, he kisses below your temple, “mi corazón-”, he moves to your jaw and right below it, “-mi vida.”

He licks at your neck, kissing the sensitive skin with insistence, pressing himself closer to you.

“Y siempre lo serás.”

link to part one!

translations:

paciencia - patience

tú eres mi alma - you are my soul

y siempre lo serás - and always will be

a/n: ill do a part 3 i actually love this whole honeymoon idea:) i hope its at the very least a bit original with the bungalow and all that

ALSO if you're a native latin spanish speaker please correct me im here to learn and write him as well as i can<3

+thank you everyone for the AMAZING feedback ive received for the first part!! i really hope you like this one and the next just as much

taglist:

@cooch1ecruncher @nvkdjnvjkd @tsukkie-daisuke @noahspector

(it won't let me tag everyone, sorry if i missed you)

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x you

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endlessthxxghts · 8 months

Text

Take It Easy

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈10.2k

Summary: Your family throws an impromptu barbecue. You’re usually the one they throw every task on, but with today being your most painful period day, you say fuck it and leave them to fend for themselves. Only one other guest is invited today, and that’s Joel Miller.

Warnings: Age gap (23/43). Established relationship (to everyone but reader’s family). No physical description of reader besides outfit choices. Use of feminine pet names. LATINO JOEL MILLER (he’s canon in all my fics, sorry not sorry). Fluff with slight angst - getting caught, kinda (?) - happy ending, don’t worry. This version of Joel is always soft for reader, but I feel like he’s extra soft here. These idiots are so fucking in love (highkey jealous). SMUT 18+ MDNI: If you know the traffic light system for safe words, reader uses yellow at one point - but fluff & comfort happens immediately after. Dom/sub and Brat tamer/brat dynamics (subspace!). Daddy kink. Degradation kink (very brief). Making out/body appreciation. Masturbation (F). Oral sex (M receiving). Spit kink (I'm so weak). Exhibitionist kink - reader is being bold 🫣. Face fucking. Vaginal fingering. Lots of kissing (these two definitely have some sort of oral/kiss fixation istg). Soft unprotected p in v. Reader gets a surge of dominance, soooo ya get a glimpse of sub!Joel😏…...I think that's it. Let me know if there’s anything I missed. 🫶🏼

Author's Note: This can be read as a stand-alone, but I accidentally connected this a bit more than I intended to the What You Need fic. That fic talks a lot about reader's background/family dynamic and why/how Joel is the way that he is with reader. There's also some little details in here that might fly over your head if you haven't read What You Need. However, I genuinely don't think any confusion or such will occur if you only read this one shot. I hope you'll be able to enjoy all the same. Much love 💚

MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

“Can you prep the veggies?”

“Can you prep the grill?”

“Can you make the rice?”

“Why don’t I make the entire fucking dinner at this point?” You snap in the direction of the kitchen from your place on the couch, wrapped in blankets, snuggled with a heat pack over your lower belly.

“Well, if you’re offering,” your brother smirks.

You started your period yesterday, and the second day is always the absolute worst. Your flow is heavy, your cramps are excruciating, and your mood is all over the place. Today was not the day for an impromptu barbecue, regardless if there were guests or not.

You promptly give your brother the middle finger then pull yourself off the couch to make your way to the bathroom. You’ve filled up an entire pad, yet again, in less than 20 minutes.

You always do everything for your family, but today, you absolutely don’t give a fuck. Today is self care day for you — popping three painkillers then heading straight to the dark of your room.

You’re not entirely sure how long you fell asleep for, but the smell of charcoal smoke and sizzling steak is what wakes you up first. The next sensation that fills you is the sound of heavy boots walking from, what you assume to be, the back door to the kitchen. Joel. You’d know that walk anywhere. He’s taking on the tasks for your family that usually fall on your shoulders.

He called you this morning before everyone (including you) woke up, saying he’s excited to see you tonight. You grumbled sleepily, about to tell him you were just as excited when a searing pain ruptured in your stomach, causing you to gasp out in pain.

“Baby?” Joel called out, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Fuck, sorry, baby, it’s nothing,” you shyly say. He says your name. You start to explain, “I started my period yesterday, and-” but Joel cuts you off. “The second day is always the worst,” he states factually.

You smile to yourself, “Yeah, exactly.”

He tells you to get up and get a glass of water and some medicine to ease the pain, which you do, then he tells you to let yourself sleep in today, which you don’t.

“Fine,” he relents at your stubbornness, “but at least take it easy today, darlin’, ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Miller, loud and clear,” you tell him.

You can feel his dumb fucking lopsided smirk through the phone, “Fuckin’ brat,” he snarls.

“Mhm, but you’re fuckin’ brat,” you correct him.

“Yes. Mine.”

“Mmmm,” you let out a soft moan at that. Mine. You love the way it sounds, the way he claims you. “I love you.”

His cock twitches at the sound you make, but he wills it stay down. He takes a breath before he responds, “I love you, baby.” He can’t get ahead of himself today. He needs you to take it easy. So he tells you exactly that, again, for the last time before he ends the call and lets you take on your tasks for the day.

Even though the mouth-watering scent of all the delicious food has completely pulled you awake, you stay in bed a little longer, basking in the sensation of absolute no cramping in the position you’re in. And as if on cue, Joel quietly knocks on your door, waiting for you to invite him in.

“Come in,” your voice cracks, still groggy from the hours of no speaking.

He enters softly, clad in that denim button up you love so much paired with some dark washed jeans. “Hi, darlin’,” he makes his way to place a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a longer one to your lips. “How you feelin’?”

“Better now,” you coo, completely enamored by how soft your big, burly man can be. “Food smells good. You helped them?”

He’s sitting at the side of your bed now, facing you, so he can rest his arm across you. “Only your old man. Carried in the food as he finished puttin’ em in the trays,” he says as he draws little circles on your arms.

You hum in response, too content at his presence. Still unable to use your voice, you tug on his arm, silently asking for him to hold you for just a moment before you eventually need to get up.

“They all left, by the way,” Joel soothes.

You finally have the strength to lift your head up, a quizzical look on your face.

“Your brother needed an herb, your dad s’more charcoal, obviously your mother drove ‘em. I don’t know where your other siblings are, though,” he explains.

“Oh.” You look up at him. “So what you’re saying is,” tugging harder on his arm to pull him into your bed, “you can freely cuddle me until then.”

He chuckles at that, giving into your pull, and wrapping his hand around your jaw to pull you into yet another sweet kiss. He’s laying down next to you now, and you take the opportunity to completely entangle your limbs into his, your head tucked into his neck.

Your family is gone for another forty-five minutes from that point on, and you two spend each minute just completely wrapped into each other, sharing sweet, wet kisses everywhere both of you can reach. His thigh supplying light pressure between yours at your core, spurring you both on just enough but not to the point where you lose all self control.

There’s something about the way you two can touch each other like this. With past partners, they always wanted things to escalate. To undress you and devour you at any sign of affection. But with Joel, it’s natural. Of course, his body will react in ways that show he physically wants more, but truly, he just wants to adore you and appreciate you and love you. And in the moments where those three words aren’t enough, he shows it in the other pure way he knows how to.

You’re too distracted being consumed by Joel’s touch, but as sharp as an eagle, he immediately perks at the sound of your family’s arrival. He slowly pulls away, trying to savor the kiss as much as possible. Finally it breaks, and you immediately pull your bottom lip into your mouth, trying to savor the way he feels and the way he tastes. He gives you a look of pure love and devotion—a look you know is only reserved for you, a look you’ll never get tired of. “Time to get up, darlin’.”

“Ugh,” you whine out, “Okay, I’ll meet you out there. I’m just gonna change, baby.”

He pulls you up out of bed and straight into another chaste kiss, “Want me to make you tea?”

“That sounds lovely, baby,” you blush at his attentiveness. You’ve been spoiled rotten by him for the past year, but you still get so flustered every time. “But I think we’re out of what I normally drink-”

He stops you with yet another kiss. “I bought a box of that peppermint blend before I came.”

You can’t stop the way you absolutely fold for this man, evident in the shaky breath you take and the way you completely stumble on your words, “Y-yeah, o-okay, yes, please.”

He smiles and nods, walking directly to your kitchen without another second to waste.

God, he deserves some fucking head right now, you think to yourself as you quietly giggle.

You make your way to your bathroom, taking a quick body shower because those several hours of sleep, plus the way Joel was on you for 45 minutes, had you looking like a murder scene down there. You dry yourself off, lotion up, and change into some loose black sweats and a fitted, light blue baby tee.

You look a lot brighter after your rest; Joel was right in telling you to sleep in, you needed it. Not that you’d ever tell him. He doesn’t need anymore ego boosts. Ya see, what’d I say, darlin’? you can hear his Texan twang scolding you already.

He looks up from the kettle pot boiling before him to see you perched on the bar stool on the other side of the kitchen island, bright eyed and awake, watching him make your tea. “Thank you again, baby,” you softly say.

He comes around behind you, setting your mug in front of you accompanied with three soft kisses peppered to the area where your shoulder and neck meet. “Of course, my sweet girl. You ready to eat? Everythin’ is set up out back, and everyone is out there, too,” he sighs, “already eatin’.” He says, annoyed at the fact that no one thought to call and check in on you, let you know that the ritual of eating together already started. You’re used to it by now, but seeing his reaction reminds you that it’s not normal for your own family to treat you this way. You smile a little sadly, trying to think of how you want to go about this. Usually you just wouldn’t eat, but with Joel around, you know that’s not going to fly.

“How ‘bout,” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist, his head still resting on your shoulder, “I go out there, make a plate big enough for us both, and I come back in and we share?” He could easily get you your own plate, but he knows your family. They’ll jump at any opportunity to shit talk you when they don’t understand the entire situation. Getting you your own plate and serving you when he’s a guest in your own home could inspire that, and he really doesn’t want you to experience that right now.

You lean into him, turning your head a little to place a kiss to his cheek. “Okay, baby,” you smile, “yes, let’s share.”

He comes back inside to you snuggled on the couch again with a pullout table propped right in front. He snuggles up right beside you, placing your legs right on top of his, keeping you secure with a hand on your thigh.

The plate is filled with a mountain worth of food. You already know three-quarters of that is going down his bottomless pit of a stomach, laughing to yourself at the thought. One thing that wasn’t on the original menu for tonight was on his plate. It also just so happened to be one of your comfort foods whenever you weren’t feeling good. “W-who made the mashed potatoes?”

Joel looks up at you sheepishly. He thought he’d be able to pull it off. He didn’t just go to the store, before he came, for your mint tea. He also went to get the ingredients for the mashed potatoes recipe you love so much. Within the almost two years he’s spent getting to know you, he’s recognized that every single time you’re feeling under the weather or falling into some type of depressive slump, you’re either eating or craving it. “I, uh- When I went to go get your tea… I figured I’d get ya your stuff for this, too. Made it before I came to wake ya up.”

“Joel…” your voice cracks and your eyes tear up.

How is it that after 23 years of life, you’re finally experiencing what it means when someone loves you? And you’re not talking romantic, you’re talking pure, genuine love. Love that you should’ve received from your parents, your siblings. They have never once shown you the consideration of making you your favorite meal, or fixing you a cup of something warm when you’re not feeling well. They have never shown you what it means to appreciate someone, in any of the love languages. The only person that has shown you remotely anything is your mother, but even that is limited because she cowers behind the directives of your father. You see her try, and you feel selfish not to appreciate it. But is it selfish to just want to be wholly loved by the people who created and raised you?

You pull the fork out of his hands and set it back on the plate. And in an instant, you completely throw yourself on him, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, legs tightly hugged between his own. He loses his balance and lays straight back onto the couch, letting out a grunt at the landing, with you on top of him. You push into him for a kiss, your noses smooshing together as you lick inside his mouth with a sense of urgency to show him how much you love him. Once the initial shock of you pouncing on him wears off, he immediately wraps himself around you, tightening his hold to pull you in impossibly more. His tongue dances with yours, one arm wrapped around your middle and another secure around the bottom of your ass.

You adjust to straddle his hips, sitting up and pulling him up with you by the collar of his denim. You break away from him just for a minute, heavy breathing and eyes dark, and you let your hand glide down his chest, swiftly undoing a few buttons of his shirt, making sure to leave a trail of sloppy, wet kisses as you go. You make your way down to his belt, unbuckling it with such a need that he can’t help but just watch you. You slip the belt out of the loops, letting it fall to the ground, and you’re scooting back more to situate yourself in between the tight space of his legs. You palm him through his jeans, feeling how absolutely hard he is, which elicits a deep groan from the man above you. With that, the button and zipper of his jeans are undone. You bring your hands up back to the hem of his jeans, looking back up at him for his approval.

“Sweet girl, ya know your folks are right outside,” he tries to warn but fails with the way his voice wavers with need.

You look to the back door that’s twenty feet away, curtains completely drawn, and look back at him. “You and I both know none of them are coming back inside for a while,” you raise your eyebrows in defiance.

He is truly at war with himself right now. He could let you do what you want, knowing you get off just as much as he does when you give him head. Or he could situate you back to your original positions and finger a few orgasms out of you, and he just pulls away from you if someone were to walk in — the safer route. Or. The safest option being he bids your folks goodnight and you let them know you’re going out for the night.

Though, the latter would just be too easy. He knows you both revel in the risk, in the act of sneaking around. Which is why he finds himself scooting forward to the edge of the couch, and you take the hint loud and clear. He wants you on your knees for this. He meets your stare once more, both of you sparkling with mischief. “Well? Darlin’? Best get on with it then, huh?” Followed by him lifting his hips slightly so you can tug his clothing down, his tip red and aching.

“Fuck, yes,” you gasp out, “been thinking about this since you left my fuckin’ room, daddy, I want you so bad.”

Your admission spurs him on more, and his eyes go impossibly dark. “Go on, darlin’. Prove it to me. Show me how fuckin’ bad.”

You pull yourself up to stand on your knees for a moment, and murmur a quiet come here to him, urging him to lean in for a second. He pulls closer, stopping an inch away from your face. You open your mouth for him, tongue sticking out and flat. He gets the hint, and before you can even register, his hand is on your jaw, tilting your head back and opening you wider, and he spits.

You use all your self control not to swallow it right here and right now, desperate to feel any kind of warmth from him slide down your throat. You have other plans right now. You close your mouth and let your own spit generate, absolutely giddy with want to please your man. His eyes are fixed on you, knowing your next plan of action, but still stunned all the same at how fucking filthy his sweet girl is. You pull yourself back, hovering your mouth over his erection.

You open your mouth and just let the combination of both of you fall from your mouth, sliding down his cock like the sweetest of syrups that you can’t wait to lick up. As the amount of spit starts to really gather, you grab him by the base and start stroking up and down his length, putting extra emphasis on his tip, running your finger over his slit for good measure. He lets out a stuttered groan at that, and you take that as your queue to finally put him in your mouth. Running your tongue in the same pattern your fingers did his tip, making him hiss in your ability to make him fold at the smallest of touches.

You keep this pace for a good while, using your hand in tandem with your mouth, stroking up and down in the speed and pressure that you know brings him to the edge fast. The sounds coming from your throat mixed with the slick feeling of your hand pumping him has your pussy absolutely dripping for attention. Fuck it. You slide your other hand down into your underwear, and begin to play with your clit, not wanting to go any deeper for fear of getting blood all over the place. Joel wouldn’t mind—of course, he wouldn’t—but you would, so you give yourself just enough to ease the aching need between your legs. Your moans get louder now that you’re touching yourself, your throat adding a delicious vibrating sensation to him.

His eyes were shut at how fucking amazing you’re taking him, but with the sounds you’re making, he can’t help but make sure all his focus is on you. And god damn, when he sees you touching yourself so prettily while you’re being such a good girl making daddy feel so fucking good, he can’t help but cum at the sight. “F-fuck, sweet girl, holy fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, “It turn you on that bad to have my dick in your mouth, huh?”

You pull off of him with a pop, making sure you keep as much of his cum in your mouth as you can—because there’s a fuck ton—and you fix your stare into his dark eyes as you swallow every last bit of him. “So fucking good, daddy, I-” you break off into a moan, your hand that was pumping him now gripping his thigh to maintain your balance as you continue the ministrations on your pussy.

“Cum for me, baby, show me how good it makes you feel to be daddy’s little slut,” he demands. You gasp out at his words, that demand being what really throws you over the edge. Your clit pulses underneath your fingers, you feel yourself gush out, your blood and cum making you feel impossibly messier, and with that, your body goes rigid.

Joel leans forward and grabs onto your jaw, keeping you upright while you come back down from your high. You’re so far gone that you don’t realize he’s peppering your face with kisses, uttering sweet nothings until you’re back with him. He gently pulls your hand from your pants and settles them into your lap.

“I’ve got ya, baby,” he kisses your lips softly.

“My sweet girl,” he kisses your jaw, “I love you,” another kiss at your pulse point below your ear. He feels your body begin to relax.

“Atta girl, baby,” he whispers before reaching down and settling his other arm underneath your legs, positioning himself so he can pick you up in a cradle position. He stands and carries you to your bathroom, settling you on your feet for one moment so he can pull your sweats and underwear off of you. He guides you down onto the toilet, kissing your forehead and muttering a quick one sec, baby before he steps out. He comes back two minutes later, and you’re still in subspace but slightly more grounded, and he kneels down in front of you, instructing you to lift one foot at a time.

He went to go get you a new pair of underwear and some gray sweatpants. He already stuck another pad to your underwear, too. The action fills you with such an overwhelming feeling that you can’t help the tears that roll down your flushed cheeks. He looks up, knowing everything you’re saying and feeling by your gaze alone. He cups your cheeks with both hands, rubs his thumb to wipe the stray tears, and kisses your forehead, your left eye, then your right, your nose, and finally your lips, all in an attempt to seal every ounce of love and adoration he has for you.

“I love you,” you finally say, leaning your forehead against his, and just take a moment with his hands on you. He pulls back again with a kiss to your forehead, and he grabs the wipes on the counter, encouraging you to lean back a bit, so he can clean you properly.

“Wait, no,” you meekly say, trying to grab the wipes from his hands. He knows you get embarrassed at the fact that he sees you a little gross like this, and you know he truly doesn’t care. Usually he relents and lets you do it yourself, but tonight, he’s doing everything for you whether you like it or not. He raises one eyebrow at you, and that’s all you need to bring your arms back down in defeat. You lean yourself back a little, spreading your legs open, and let him clean you up.

When it comes to other activities during your period, you usually are uncomfortable. But with Joel? With him, you don’t mind. You actually love it. It’s in moments like these that remind you how irrevocably in love you are with this man.

Afterwards he stands you up, pulls your bottoms on, and turns you towards the sink and washes your hands for you. He really wasn’t kidding at how easy he wanted you to take today.

He carried you back to the couch and wrapped a fluffy blanket around you. You threw yourself on him in the middle of your guys’ meal, so after he settles you into the couch, he transfers your shared food to a real plate instead of paper and warms everything up. He does the same to your peppermint tea.

After everything is warmed, he settles back onto the couch beside you, pulling your legs up onto his thighs and holding you above your knee to secure your position. You go to reach the fork, but Joel is quick to swat your hand away, taking the fork and feeding you a bite of your mashed potatoes instead.

“I told you,” he scolds, “to take it easy today.”

You frown, “And I have been! You’ve literally been taking care of me since you got here.”

He sets the fork down, reaching for your tea and lifting it up to your mouth. He’s not gonna respond until you take a sip, which was much needed as your belly immediately calms at the heat. You take one more sip as he begins, “You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy.”

You cough on the fucking liquid still traveling down your throat. You were not expecting that to come out of his mouth. You try really hard to will yourself not to fucking burst out in laughter because you know how serious he was with this statement. So instead, you settle for your typical smart ass remark. “It wasn’t?” You asked. “Seemed real easy to me,” you add as you take the fork from his hand and take another bite of the yummy food before you. His eyebrow shoots up and you give him a lopsided smirk in return.

“Watch it, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his hand up, thumb and forefinger pinching at your chin to force your eyes into his. He gives you a bruising kiss, one that entices him to bite at your bottom lip as he pulls away. You can feel yourself slipping again. He’s not done with you, he’s just giving you a moment to refuel.

“I’ll be good,” you softly whimper as you chase for his lips. “I’m not so sure about that,” he responds as his grip on your chin gets tighter, forcing you stationary and a few inches too far from where you want him to be. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes gloss over as you whisper out a small I promise, to which he says, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”

He lets go of your face completely and continues feeding you, alternating between the food and your tea. As the next bite he prepares for you reaches your mouth, something that has never happened before decided to occur. Your mother comes inside the house, and her first sight as soon as she came in was you, completely wrapped around Joel, and him feeding you.

Your jaw freezes, his grip on your leg tightens out of instinct to protect you, and it’s a staring standoff between the three of you. Joel doesn’t realize he’s still holding the fork up until his hand starts to shake, so he gently sets it down on the plate. It’s you who speaks first. “Mom, I-”

But it’s your mother who wants the first word. The first two words, actually. “How long?”

Your heart is beating out of your chest, and the only thing keeping you from full blown panic is all the ways you’re in physical contact with Joel. “I can explain, mom, I-”

“Flower,” she says to comfort you. She’s not mad? you think. Your heart immediately calms, but now you’re just confused. Growing up, your mother always called you her flower. She used it predominantly when she wanted to help you regulate. You’ve always been full of anxiety and other strong emotions. Flowers are strong and beautiful, and show exactly when they need support. And when they are given the support they need, they flourish. That’s you. You are a flower. Her flower. But now she can see, there’s someone else tending to you. And she is not mad.

“A year and some change,” you softly say. She looks between you two. Then she steps forward. “Look,” she breathes. “I know our family hasn’t been the best in showing love or appreciation. And they obviously haven’t been the best at fending for themselves-”

“Amen to that,” you say, and she chuckles in appreciation. She continues.

“Thank you, by the way. For everything you do around here. We both know none of it would get done around here if it weren’t for you. I try to help you as much as I can, but obviously not enough. If you can pull everyone’s weight around here, which you shouldn’t have been doing in the first place, then I can at least pull my own and whip them into pulling their own, too.”

Your eyes are watering, and you take a deep, shaky breath. Joel feels it. He brings his hand around to rub small circles into your back. You’re so grateful he’s here. “I love you,” you say to your mom.

“I love you, too, flower, but I’m not done. I also know that I’m not too great at using my voice. Defending what’s right. But you’re the one person in this family that’s given me the inspiration to fight for what I believe in. You give me strength, and constantly seeing this family pull you down lower and lower as the years go by breaks me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

Tears begin to fall, both on your face and your mom’s.

“And in this last year, and some change, to be exact,” she smiles as she recalls your answer from earlier, “you have been the most vibrant flower of the entire garden. In the gloominess of this house, you continue to grow, and I’ve been dying to understand what changed. And now I see why. And I have never been more grateful for another human—the first one being you—until he entered your life.”

You and Joel both look at each other, his eyes have a hint of gloss to them now, too.

“So,” your mother says as she reaches for the tissue box on the counter and walks back to hand you the box. “I won’t tell a soul. It’s not my story to share. And remember. I will always have your back. Always. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to tell me about such a beautiful relationship, but we’re here now and I need you to know that I will forever support what makes my flower happy,” she looks to Joel, “and that’s you. I will support both of you until my flower decides on something different.”

Joel’s face turns into a scowl, half joking and half pissed at the thought of you leaving him. “Which, I have a feeling isn’t gonna happen, so you can calm yourself, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” your mother adds after seeing his boyish reaction that would normally scare anyone but you, and apparently your mother.

You lose your shit at his new nickname, and all the emotions just flow out at once. You pull yourself off of Joel and run into your mothers arms, needing her comfort. She holds you like that for a few seconds before she says, “Okay, go, I think Mr. Grump needs your comfort now. Absolutely no way I’m doing it.” You laugh and squeeze her one last time before she grabs something in the kitchen and heads back outside. You make your way back to Mr. Grump, straddling his lap. Before she opens the back door, though, she calls out your name.

“Yes, mom?”

“I’ll cover for you, hon,” she says nonchalantly as she goes back outside.

You and Joel stare at each other for a moment, too shocked to take action on the opportunity that just presented itself to you. Then, it finally hits. You pull him into a kiss that’s downright feral, your hips grinding down on him on instinct. “Take-” you say as you try to break away from the kiss, but you’re too drunk on him to completely pull away, “t-take me home, baby.”

He grunts in response, and stands up with you completely wrapped around him. He heads for your front door.

“Baby, Baby, wait, not here,” you say breathily as you go back in for another quick kiss, “through the garage.” He looks confused for a second before he remembers. The front door camera. The left side of your driveway being the camera’s blind spot. Immediately he reroutes.

You would think the first thing he does is bring you to his bedroom, but no. He sets you on his couch, molding your body into his signature position for you that makes you sit on your heels, palms up on your thighs. He could’ve easily told you he wanted you in position, but again, he told you to take it easy.

Although the position almost always forces you into subspace, you’re confused and coherent enough to question him, “Baby..?”

He steps back, looking down at you with his eyebrow raised, “Don’tcha remember, sweet thing?”

“You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy”, he said.

You promised you would be good.

To which he assured you, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”

He sees the moment it clicks in your head, and immediately his hold is on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. He whispers, “Color?” Still demanding but with a hint of softness to it. You tilt your head further back, trying to make your lips touch him more, “Green,” you say.

He pulls your chin into him and kisses you, slow and sweet, his tongue tangling with yours. He pulls away, breath slightly shaky, but he composes himself quickly and stands straight up, letting go of any contact with you.

His couch is either really low to the ground, or he is just one big motherfucker. Either way, you sitting on your haunches on his couch like this while he stands straight up in front of you makes your head in direct eye line of his crotch. And you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from it. You see his tent forming, and you’re smart enough to realize what lesson he’s about to give you.

“Told you to take it fuckin’ easy today,” he says as he slowly unbuckles his belt, “didn’t I, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” you say quickly, not wanting to piss him off more.

“But ya didn’t,” his belt falls. “Did you?”

Your spit thickens. “No, daddy.”

His belt is on the floor, and he’s reaching to undo his button and zipper. “My good girl was jus’ too fuckin’ eager to have my dick in her mouth, hm?”

You lick your bottom lip, catching the drool you didn’t realize was pooling out of your mouth. Like Pavlov’s fucking dogs, he’s got you trained. You let out a whiny mhm in response, already completely blissed out at the prospect of what’s about to happen. He settles for it, this time.

He pulls his jeans down, just enough to pull himself free. He leaves his boxers up for now while he explains. He walks closer to you, his hardness one lick away from you, and forces you to look up at him again. “You’re gonna take my cock in your mouth again, sweetheart,” he says.

You eagerly cut him off, “Yes, please, thank you, daddy, I-”

He shuts you up by pushing his thumb in your mouth. “But you’re not gonna move or do anythin’, besides sit prettily for daddy,” his grip on your jaw tightens, “ya understand me?” He slides his thumb out and spreads your spit across your bottom lip and down your chin.

“I understand, daddy,” you say, your eyes completely glossed over. Out of instinct, you fold your hands behind your back, signaling to Joel your complete submission to him.

“Such a good girl when you remember how to be patient,” he says as he stands back to his full height again. He gets impossibly closer, crowding your face. He pulls his boxers down, and his erection springs free, the tip landing against your lips, smearing the pre-cum across it. It takes everything in you not to lick it up—you can’t, he needs to give you your next instructions. He hears your silent pleas, and as he settles his hand at the back of your head, fingers grounding themselves into the roots of your hair, he tells you, “Open.”

Knowing how rough Joel can get, you take a deep breath, relaxing your throat, and you open wide, your tongue laid flat out, slick with the drool that’s been forming since the noise of the belt buckle hit your ears.

His other hand is holding himself at the base, guiding himself into your mouth. He taps his tip on your tongue a few times for good measure, before pushing himself all the way in. You feel your gag reflex coming, but you take another deep breath through your nose, urging your throat to relax a little more. It does. He pushes slowly in until your nose is flush with the patch of hair above his length. All you wanna do is unclasp your hands and reach for his thighs to pull him into you tighter, wanting to engulf his scent into you, but you can’t. All you can do is take what he gives you while sitting pretty like the good girl you are.

He starts to pull back a little, and that naturally makes your throat contract, forcing a groan out of him and more saliva out of you. He lets go of himself, and now both hands are on you. He taps your cheek, asking you to look up at him. “Hands behind the entire time. Any touch on my thigh signals red to me, okay?”

You nod your head as best you can with his grip on you and let out a little moan for good measure. At your signal, he completely and utterly wrecks you with no hesitation. And you take it exactly as he gives it, just like you promised you would.

The more he thrusts, the more spit that builds, leaking from your mouth and down your chin. Your eyes are shut at the feeling of him abusing your throat, but he won’t have that. You feel his other hand not tap your cheek twice. Your eyes fly open and land on his dark ones. “Those eyes stay on me,” he grunts out at a particularly rough thrust. You whimper out at his words, trying to convey your apologies for doing something that could make him mad. “No, it’s alright, darlin’,” he says, his pace never faltering. “I- fuck- wasn’t specific enough,” he grunts, “but ya know what I expect now,” his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. “Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

Your eyebrows furrow and try to emphasize with your eyes that yes, eyes on you, daddy. He understands. “Atta girl, baby,” he breathes out, pulling out momentarily to give you a breath.

You choke out a little as he pulls out. He softens, concern laced in his voice, “You okay, amor?”

“Yes,” you say weakly, “I promise, please. W-want more..” You open your mouth wide again, tongue positioned perfectly for him to slide back in.

His eyes fall dark again and there’s that signature lopsided smirk. He guides himself back into you, completely, and his hand from your cheek glides down to wrap around your throat. “Shit, amor, you feel that?” He squeezes at the base of your throat. “I’m all the way fuckin’ in there, baby,” he says, falling back into a rough pace, feeling the outline of his dick glide in and out of your pathway. “You’re takin’ me so-” he lets out a pained grunt. He’s close. “-so fuckin’ good, shit, baby.”

Your throat constricts again, and that feeling is what sends him over. For the second time today, all of your senses are being consumed by everything Joel: his taste, his smell, his touch, the downright sinful sounds that grace your ears, and you take it all in, eagerly. Both hands release their hold on you as he pulls out of your mouth, and you’re quick to lean into his hips. His hand shoots back to the nape of your neck, pulling you back like a mother does to her puppy.

“You’re fuckin’ insatiable, you know that?” he says, out of breath, still trying to compose himself from the soul-sucking he just took from you. You give him a blissed out giggle, “You jus’ taste so yummy, daddy.”

“Yeah?” he asks, amused. “Well, so do you, babygirl, so it’s my turn now.”

Immediately your ears perk up and your body goes rigid. The thought of him giving you head with the flow you have right now doesn’t sit right with you. “Yellow,” you shakily whisper.

He lets go of the back of your neck and falls to his knees to match your eye level. “Oh, honey,” he cups your face, “Please tell me how to make it better. Do you wanna stop here, mi amor?”

Your body relaxes at his instant reaction. You’ve only ever had to use a safe-word with Joel twice. Today, included. And in each rare moment, he does what every caring partner and proper Dominant should: validate, comfort, and communicate. He has never given you any reason to be scared or feel disrespected. This is Joel we’re talking about here. You’re safe in his presence, always. The thought puts you at ease, but it also makes you feel a little ridiculous at using a safe word for something that could easily be communicated without it.

“Wait, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you or anything, it’s something so tiny and stupid, I should’ve just communicated instead of going straight to the code-” you quickly start panicking as you ramble on, but he’s quicker. He pulls you off the couch and into his lap, holding you in a tight embrace, knowing the pressure is what helps pull you away from your panic attack. He’s muttering it’s okay, you’re okay and I’ve got ya, as he kisses the top of your head. As soon as he feels your body relax in his arms, he speaks. “Darlin’ girl, please look at me.” You do, teary-eyed.

“I completely forgot you were on your period. I was too in the moment, and I had a lapse in judgment in my words. I’m sorry. You should not be the one to apologize, ever, if you’re ever in an uncomfortable situation like this. The safe words are there for a reason, okay? Use them. They are there to keep you safe, always. Thank you for speakin’ up, my love.”

You nod your head at his words, too emotion-filled to respond with anything else right now. The only thing you can offer is a whisper of a “Thank you, I love you,” but that’s enough for him.

He gives you a soft kiss to your lips. “How would you like to continue, beautiful girl?”

You think for a moment, and the way that his hand feels wrapped around you starts to make your arousal build again. All you can think of are his big, calloused hands all over you. In your mouth. On your thighs. In your warmth. Screw the bloody mess, he doesn’t care. You squirm at the thought, and he feels you falling back into your space again. His cock stirs beneath you. He tightens his grip on you to coax you out of your thoughts. “Fingers,” you squeak out, your cheeks flushing red instantaneously. He grins, but his eyes stay fixed on you, hinting at you for something more. Then, it clicks. “P-please, daddy, need your fingers in me,” you say, voice trembling with need.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he says as he pulls your thighs around him and brings himself to full height. He leads you to his bed, setting you down on the edge with a kiss to your forehead and a quick one moment, sweetheart.

He leaves to return back with a large bath towel and lays it across the center of his bed, dark blue to match his sheets. He situates pillows for your head and leaves a smaller one out, just in case. You feel his weight shift the bed, and he’s walking toward you on his knees. You lean into his touch the moment his hand makes contact at your lower back, and he’s guiding your shirt off of you. He takes that same arm, wrapping it around your waist, and leans down to situate the crook of your knees over his other arm. He’s carrying you up higher to the center of the bed, completely removing any opportunity for a thought to run through that head of yours. He wants you focused on nothing but the way he’s going to make you feel.

Once you’re laying down on your back, he makes his way down, placing soft kisses on your belly and all over your thighs while he slides your bottoms down your legs. Once you’re completely bare, Joel situates himself in a way that he’s never done before. He lays next to you on his side, shoulder propping him up, so his hand is underneath your head and he’s still looking down at you. He grabs onto your thigh closest to him, and he hooks your leg atop of his, opening you up.

The level of intimacy and vulnerability of the way you two are positioned against one another has your mind reeling, absolutely aching to be consumed by him. Joel is always sweet and soft with you, but this is completely on another level. It doesn’t feel motivated by a feral need to rip each other apart. The motivation lies in the pure need to feel. To feel you against him, consumed in the entirety of love and raw emotion. To feel him against you, filling you with a genuine intimacy and devotion you both know only he can provide you.

He brings his other hand up to gently cradle your face, and he leans in to slot his lips against yours, his tongue running along your bottom lip, swallowing the faintest of whimpers that slip from your throat. Your hand slides to the back of his neck, keeping him close, deepening your dance of lip and tongue. His hand drifts away from your face and takes his time to grasp and show attention to the rest of your body.

He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging it with a care that causes your fingers to curl tighter in his hair. He shows the same attention to your other one, then flattens out his entire hand to run down your sternum and belly, positioning his hand on the pathway down for his middle and ring finger to be the first that make contact with your sex.

And when it does, neither of you can hold back the groan that leaves your mouths. He’s too enamored by you to let his lips leave yours, but you have a feeling your filthy-mouthed man would make a comment about how wet you are for him. You know you’re right when he completely bypasses your clit and down to your entrance, eager to get his fingers covered in you, so he can spread it all over you.

You pull away for a moment, both of you out of breath and pupils completely blown. “You see how good you make me feel, daddy?” His fingers reach your clit again. “I’m so fucking wet,” you moan out, “and it’s all because of you- all for you, daddy.”

“Baby, please,” he grits out, his fingers leaving your clit after a few more circles, dipping into your entrance with ease. “So fuckin’ good to me, but fuck, stop talking,” he breathes, hips involuntarily thrusting into you, “need you to soak my fingers first, amor.”

You shoot him a smile that gives him butterflies, and then you’re pulling him back in, needing to feel him everywhere he can possibly manage.

The pace of his fingers are perfect, constantly hitting the spot that’ll get you there in no time with the heated sensation of lips. His hand behind your head moves down and wraps underneath your waist, pulling you in flush with his body. He needs to feel every part of you. Your leg closest to him—the one hooked around his leg—comes off of him, and now you two are completely laying on your sides, facing each other.

His fingers leave you for a moment to hike your other leg up and around his waist, your pussy inches away from his center. His fingers find you once more, and the angle is impossibly deeper. You’re whining out now as you rock your hips against his hand. He knows you're close with the way your breath shakes. He reaches his thumb up to circle your clit, and you break away from his lips, throwing your head back at an instinct, exposing all your sweet spots for his mouth to reach. As his hands continue working you to the edge, he gives you the final push when he latches at the base of your neck where your shoulder meets, and he litters the area in wet kisses and painfully delicious bites.

Oh, fuck, daddy, yes,” you moan out, your vision going white and your body going rigid. Your climax hits you so hard that you don’t realize his fingers left you, your thighs still convulsing and hurtling you through your high. You can faintly hear Joel, muttering his sweet whispers, as he always does.

“Oh, fuck, that was so fuckin’ sexy, baby.”

“You’re beautiful, yanno that?”

“I love you, my pretty girl,” he places a kiss right atop your heart.

Still, your mind is floating somewhere in narnia, so he understands when you don’t reply right away. You’re not even completely back from your orgasmic haze when he pulls his boxers completely off, throwing them somewhere in the room, and his aching cock is resting against your core.

“Darlin’ girl,” he brings his hand up to guide your limpless head to look at him, “I need you to use your words f’ me, honey, please give me a color,” he says, the softest you have ever heard him.

You give him the smallest smile back, but it’s so full of love and admiration. You’re lightly nodding your head yes, trying to will your vocal cords to respond. “G-gre..” you let out.

He stops you with a kiss, “Okay, honey, okay, that’s all I needed,” and another kiss, “Can I give my baby what she so desperately wants now?”

The prospect of the sensation your body is about to go through because of him ignites a fire in you. It forces you to come back down from your haze, so you can register every second of him in his entirety. Your neck straightens and your eyes open fully, pupils blacker than he’s ever seen. “Yes, daddy, please give it to me,” you say with a neediness more than anything. His lip quirks up in a smirk. “What my baby wants, she gets,” and he’s pushing your hips into him as he pushes into you, his tip notching at your entrance. You hiss, reveling in the stretch he gives you regardless of how much he works you open.

There’s a stigma with Dominants that they are always so calm and collected, always composed and never in a state of neediness and desperation like their submissive counterparts. However, that’s simply not true. In every please, in every whimper, in every cry; in every orgasm, in every act of brattiness, in each use of the honorific; in every demonstration of pure submission: there is a Dominant, willing themself not to give in and give their partner everything they need. There is a Dominant about to break because one more plea from the submissive’s mouth has them ready and willing to forgo every single plan they had for that particular scene.

And that’s exactly what Joel does here. He had a plan for you, even after you used your yellow code, but with the way he’s wrapped around you tonight—you have the power. You’re calling the shots. He exists simply and solely for you and your pleasure. Nothing else matters.

He bottoms out, and both his arms are wrapped around your waist, both of you completely aligned with one another. “How do you want me, baby?”

“I don’t care,” your forehead falls into his, “I just need to feel you, please.”

With your words, he’s thrusting into you with a calculated intention. You needed to feel him, you said. So he pushes in not too fast but not too slow, and hard. He buries himself to the hilt every single time, and it’s like he put you in a trance. Your eyes softly shut, trying to stay open to look at him; your eyebrows are pulled together; and the only sounds falling from your mouth are moans and whimpers and sweet nothings only he’d be able to decipher with your babbling. You feel everything in this angle, with his rhythm. You feel every vein, every ridge, you feel his tip kissing every sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously stealing the oxygen from your lungs. He feels so fucking good. Your leg hooked around his waist squeezes tighter on instinct, and he groans at the feeling. Seeing you completely desperate and at his disposal nearly finishes him right then and there.

Your hand is at its usual spot for tonight, wrapped tightly in the curls at the base of his neck. You're meeting his thrusts now, and it heightens the sensation tenfold. Both your breaths are hot and heavy, mingling into the thick air of Joel’s bedroom. You’re nearly at the edge again, you both are, but you need a little more of a push. “Baby, t-touch me, please,” you say with more breath than your actual voice. He sounds absolutely pained, “I got’cha, baby, I got’cha.” His hand leaves your waist, the other tightening around you to compensate for its absence, and his fingers are back on your bundle of nerves, circling at the same rhythm that he’s pulling in and out of you.

A gasp leaves your throat, and every part of you that’s wrapped around him pulls him in impossibly tighter, “fuck, just like that, fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop,” you ramble on in an almost incoherent whine. You can feel your words and sounds spurring him on as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s close, too. Then it clicks, you realize what you meant earlier when you said you needed to feel him first.

His fingers speed up and so do his hips. “C’mon, darlin’, such a good fuckin’ girl, give it to me, soak my fuckin’ cock,” he grunts out, now chasing his own release.

Not stopping your movements, you unravel your arms from him and you push down on his chest, pushing him onto his back. You’re on top of him now, your movements only faltering momentarily as you situated yourself to straddle him. You grab both his arms, the one working your clit and the other on your waist, and you bring them up above his head. You pin them there with your own hand, your body leaning over him and adding to the momentum as you bounce on him. “No,” you say, almost a growl, “Need you inside me first,” sucking his bottom lip.

He fucking whines. “Need you inside me first, then I’ll give you what you’re looking for.” You switch off into a grind of your hips, moving back and forth as the feel of his pubic hairs rub against your clit causing your pussy to flutter on him. He feels it and his hands flex to move from your grip. Your hold on him tightens. You have the power. You lean down, licking a pathway up his neck and making your way near his ear. You whisper, “Stuff me full of you, daddy, and I’ll fucking soak you, I promise.”

“Fuck!” He growls as your hips speed up, and now he’s the one seeing stars. His face and neck flush into a bright red as he floods you with his release. And as if right on queue, the warmth and the feeling of him in you and seeping out of you is what finishes you. The constant stimulation on your clit from his pubic bone along with the angle his dick continues to prod at, you’re creaming and soaking him, just like he wanted. His thighs and even the area below his belly are drenched with the mixture of your guys’ fluids, and he can’t help but gawk at the scene before him.

You are completely surrounded by the product of your two’s arousal (plus a bit of blood, but he doesn’t care), you continuing slow grinds as you work yourself through your orgasm, and the way that your head is thrown back in pure bliss—he’s entranced by it all. His cock is nearing the line of painful overstimulation with you still on him, but he really can’t find himself caring enough to get your attention.

He thought he would never be into giving up his dominance, his yearn for control. But now that you’ve given him a taste at what you’re capable of, fuck, he feels downright insane if he didn’t want more of it.

You realize he may not be used to the oversensitivity as much as you may be trained for, so you bring yourself to a halt and slowly slip off of him. You bring your eyes to meet his, and you can’t help the giggle that leaves your mouth, seeing the goofy, blissed out grin on his face as he looks at you. You lean towards his head and give him a sweet kiss to his lips and his nose, and you softly tell him that you’ll be right back but to stay here with a slightly more demanding tone.

You quickly go pee in his en suite bathroom and wipe your bottom half down. You grab a pair of his boxers he leaves for emergencies under the sink (you let out a little chuckle at the fact), and grab a pad from the box he also leaves under the sink, for you, and stick it onto his underwear before shimmying it up on you. You grab another washcloth and soak it in warm water and walk back to the bed. You sit yourself up next to him and start wiping him down. As soon as you finish, you try your best and throw the washcloth, aiming for the sink of the bathroom, but you fail, miserably. It lands with a wet plop on the side of the toilet, centimeters away from landing in the toilet’s bowl. “Eh, that’s good enough,” you say to no one in particular as you nudge him to bring his hips up so you can take the towel out that he placed earlier to catch any of your blood drippings. You place it in the hamper, then you bring yourself to lay back down, cuddling into Joel.

He turns so you both are facing each other again. His head propped up on his hand. His other hand runs up and down everywhere he can reach.

“W-was what I did at the end there… was that okay?” you ask meekly as you slowly bring your eyes up to his.

He lets out a hearty laugh, shoulders shaking. You weren’t expecting that kind of reaction. “Honestly,” he says as his fingers come to a stop and he just lets his arm wrap around you lazily. “I was really shocked when you flipped me over, but then,” he pauses for a second. Really just to spur you on more than anything. “I was so fuckin’ turned on and achin’ for you. I’d just about let you do anythin’ to me if you treat me like that, darlin’,” he says as he leans down to place a kiss to your lips.

He pulls back and your gaze is away from him and your cheeks are as red as he was earlier. A shy smile paints your face. He brings his fingers up to your chin, “Oh, come on now, no point in gettin’ all shy on me now is there, my dirty girl?”

You give him the best reprimanding face you can muster (which he finds beyond adorable), and you parrot a common phrase he uses with you when you’re a brat, “Watch it, big boy.”

He laughs at your antics, but you see his cock twitch at the pet name. Your eyebrows shoot up. “Joel!” you say, actually reprimanding him this time, but you genuinely don’t know what for.

His hand shoots to cover his mouth, an attempt at stopping his burst of laughter at your reaction. He lets go of his mouth after a moment and pulls you closer to him. He places kisses all over your face while you both giggle and let yourselves fall from your high together.

He abruptly stops his kisses to look at you. He doesn’t say a word. “Yes?” you ask, curious of that mind of his.

“Ya know how much I love you, right?” he asks, genuinely.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good hint, baby.”

“Good,” he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“And I love you so much, you do know that, right?” you offer as you bury yourself into his chest, inhaling his musk mingled the faint aroma of you.

He repeats your response back to you. You smile in his chest. It’s you who places a kiss atop his heart this time.

You both stay wrapped up in each other for a few more hours before your tummy begins yelling at you for sustenance. Though, until that happens, you two lie in each other’s arms, wondering what you did to deserve such an all-consuming, raw and genuine love.

Your mother was right. You really were the brightest flower in the garden, and it was all because of your big, macho man, who was actually as soft and cuddly as the clouds that bring water for the garden. Ever since he entered your life, he made sure those clouds poured all their attention on you. Giving you all the water and nutrients, all the love and care that you would ever need.

Forever.

End note: Thank you so much for reading! As always, your support is always always appreciated. There's no amount of words to describe how grateful I am for how much love I receive from you all. You're all too amazing. Feedback is also greatly appreciated, whether it's praise or constructive! Anything and everything helps me to be the best writer I can be. I love you all so very much💚💚💚

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EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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generalsmemories · 10 months

Text

An Immortal's Delight

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: i think jing yuan just needs someone to kiss his worries away to survive another day tbh, he deserves that.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, smooches and kisses in the bathtub (scandalous), he's just a tired baby please let him rest and get some cuddles and a pat on his fluffy head. spoilers for the main story in 1.2

✧ a/n: enough attempts on angst as the main genre i want my man happy again for like 3 posts before i attempt again, and i know ya'll want it too. it's cheesy, but HE NEEDS TO HAVE CHEESY MOMENTS PLEASE HE'S BEEN SUFFERING EVERYWHERE ELSE.

Jing Yuan has been submerging himself in the bath without answering your calls long enough for you to grow concernerd. You contemplate for a bit, there's still scrolls of unfinished work sitting by the dining table that you had brought from the Realm-Keeping Commission along with two plastic bags of Immortal's Delight that you bought on a whim while on your way home staring back at you.

Yanqing's not at home. The paperwork can also wait until he's out of the bath and in bed sleeping, and there's no pressing matters at hand for the both of us currently either- with those reasons in mind, you take another sip from your own immortal's delight to savor the taste while it's still cold before walking up to the bathroom door and opening it slowly.

You're immediatey hit with a wave of steam, barely able to make out Jing Yuan's figure amidst the mist. Your husband having an elbow propped up at the edge of the bathtub while resting his cheek on his closed fist. If he heard you come in he doesn't react, eyes closed while the water from the tap still runs, having long flowed over the edge.

Jing Yuan isn't behaving like his usual self lately - not after fate had toyed him like this to make him use two of his ones dearest friends whom he had had once released years back for the sake of Luofu. You can tell, you can see it in the wry smile he sports every day, you can see it in his eyes that flicker with the tiniest of emotions whenever he reports back to you for you to record and in his voice that wavers a tiny bit when he addresses his two old friends as names that are foreign to him.

He's the same general in everyone else's eyes, but in your eyes he's reverted back to his younger self who took on a role far too burdensome on his shoulders all those years ago. He can hide it beneath every meticulous plan and carefully thought out strategies, but you always see through him. You had back then, and you have now as well.

You strip off of your outer robes which leaves you in an undershirt whilst you slowly walk up to him. Making yourself comfortable by the edge of the bathtub, your fingers find the red ribbon that situates his long ponytail and pull it off.

"Darling," you hum, "If you're going to let yourself turn into a prune in here, at least make sure that the ribbon also comes off no?" your hand rests on his left cheek, a silent sign to make him look at you. And Jing Yuan is always obedient around you, opening his eyes to direct his gaze towards you. His other hand comes up to wrap loosely around your own hand, holding it still while he turns his head around to press his lips against your palm, "I would still be quite a handsome prune though, no?" he jokes with an empty chuckle - you're pretty sure his laughs have sounded empty since the stellaron incident first started.

"Debatable," you whisper, gently pulling your hand away to grip the edge of the bathtub, instead leaning down to press your lips against his cheek, "But you would most definitely be the most handsome prune in my eyes."

"That's a relief," he huffs playfully - although there's no playful tone present in his voice. It's numb and automatic, a trained response fitting of the general Jing Yuan of the Xianzhou Luofu. It could've fooled every other person, but not you. He can't fool you after all.

"I thought you had passed out in here, you were taking that long," you emphazise, lips moving from his cheek to kiss across his face, settling on pressing your lips a bit longer on the mole underneath his eyes.

"Mmm, sorry dear," he leans away from his fist, letting you cup his face between your hands while his right arm drops limply over the edge of the bathtub, "It was pretty comfortable in here that I lost track of time."

He never loses track of time.

"Jing Yuan," you call out gently, "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He doesn't answer immediately, instead averting his eyes from your own as he grows quiet. He's probably contemplating an answer, if you were anyone else he could've easily breezed past the question with a mere acknowledgement that he's fine, but it's you. You're always able to figure him out as fast as his own foresight is able to foresee a necessary plan for a better tomorrow.

He still tries, "I'm fine," he ends up saying, "Just tired," he opens his mouth to add on more details, as if to prove to you he's really just tired, but no sound comes out.

"I know," you whisper, bringing your hand further up his face to brush his bangs away to bump your forehead gently against his, "I know you're tired, dear. But what's gotten you more tired than usual?"

Gently, he lifts a hand from the water up to your wrist. And you're already aware it's a silent request, to which you answer with a small smile and a nod. With a light tug, you get dragged down into the bathtub with your legs dangling over the edge. Jing Yuan had immediately buried his face into your neck, letting out a shuddering breath.

There's no people to care for in this small space, there's no general duties to attend to here and no setting aside his personal feelings or using old connections for his people. In this small space, there's only the feeling of your soft skin against his and the warm press of your lips on his head.

Just like back then after he had come back from defeating his master, after he had witnessed the deaths of his closer friends in battle and the punishment given to another. You're always there at the end of the day - waiting for him.

"Will you tell me what's wrong, dear?" you implore once again, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

"As much as I'm able to keep it hidden at the heat of the moment," he whispers into your neck, taking another shaky breath to which you pat his naked back for, whispering for him to breathe. "I do admit that I once again had a bit of a youthful hope to bring something back from the past that I knew was not plausible."

You merely press your lips to his temple, aware that he's not finished talking judging by the way he takes another deep breath that ends in a low chuckle - a chuckle that sounded a tiny bit more genuine than his previous one.

"... And I think I can still feel the aftermaths of the fight against Phantylia."

"... Well that's no good," you hum. You've been very much aware that Jing Yuan is still recovering from the last battle against Phantylia. His body still weak and food even harder to consume. The little he does consume end up getting thrown back up because: "It feels like my insides are having a battle of its own still," which makes it harder to get Bailu's prescribed medicine down his throat.

You run your fingers down his back a couple of times before leaning away to pull his head out of your neck - he tries to protest, wanting to stay nestled in your neck so he can live inside the personal bubble you've created away from reality. But you're too insistent, gently coaxing him with small pats to his head until Jing Yuan finds himself staring back into your eyes. "In what way can you feel the aftermath?"

He's staring at your lips, "There's a vile taste in my mouth."

Your lips are immediately slotting over his own after that. It's soft, but sweeter than usual. He can taste a hint of brown sugar on your tongue, and perhaps it's because he's not directly consuming it, but he finds it easier to want more. So he leans in for more, grabbing the back of your neck to push you further into him. More, he needs more.

"You're going to swallow me up whole at this rate," you say with a giggle, parting slightly away from his lips and giving them a brief peck when he leaned slightly further into you, "But how did that taste?" you question.

"It tastes like someone's had an Immortal's Delight before coming in here," he jests, "It's good, I like that," he confirms before settling his forehead back on your shoulder.

"That's good, maybe I should drink more of them then before kissing you silly. I'm sure whatever you're eating now paired with Bailu's medicine won't give your tastebuds the best of flavors."

"That would make eating and drinking them a lot easier for my part," he mumbles from your shoulder, "Would have something to look forward to, being that Lady Bailu bans me from drinking such sugary treats at the moment."

You chuckle at the hint of sadness present in his voice, once again wrapping your arms around his shoulders so his senses are filled with your scent. Only then does his shoulders sink in relief - And you know that Jing Yuan will be fine for another day again.

"I can't guarantee that tomorrow will be any better from today," you mumble, "Neither can I guarantee that you won't be faced with a past that you were forced to move on from too soon for the sake of the Luofu," you let go of him to climb out of the bathtub, ignoring your clothes sticking to your skin as you extend a hand towards the man before you who meekly grabs it - squeezing your hand hard upon contact.

"I can however, guarantee that I'll be there waiting at the end of the day every time," you grab one of the fresh towels by the shelves to throw over his head, ruffling his hair slightly, "And take care of you when you want to just be Jing Yuan, and not the Arbiter General of the Luofu," you declare with a smile, "And kiss the vile taste of medicine in your mouth with the flavors of immortal's delight."

Before you can turn around again to grab a new towel to pat your clothes dry, Jing yuan tugs at your wrists and pulls you towards him. A hand coming up to cup your cheek before he bends slightly down to kiss you hard and hungrily. Kissing you breathless like you're all he has left - from back then and now in the present.

He can still taste the sugary drink on your lips - He wants to keep tasting them, he has quite a sweet tooth after all.

"I like the taste of immortal's Delight," he says, pressing his forehead against yours while he gazes at you softly, "So I hope you bought some for me too."

"I did, you can afford one cheat day," you grin, bringing both hands to cup his cheeks before pinching them, "But knowing you, you would still claim it tastes better on my lips, no?"

i- i'm. can someone tell i really love this man. like i want to wrap him in a blanket and say everything's going to be okay, that he can rest now because he's done his job and way more. that he deserves rest as much as the next person- i can volunteer to do that. please.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #x reader #reader insert

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ptersparkers · 2 years

Text

reckless (aaron hotchner)

summary: After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.

notes: hello. this is singlehandedly the longest fic i’ve ever written (like 21.7K words). i didn’t intend for it to be this long and i tried to see where i could break it up, but i think it flows better if it’s in one piece. happy reading! x

(edit: adding in that the reader is fem)

a huge thank you to @hotchsdoormat for being the best person alive and for listening to me rant about this piece. love u forever.

warnings: typical criminal minds speak, kidnapping and mentions of broken arms and ribs and typos, probably.

***

Years of dreaming of becoming a federal agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit led to the beginning of an illustrious career solving crimes and traveling across the country. It had only taken guest lectures by none other than the BAU themselves for the idea of catching killers and outsmarting them to do so to seep its way to the back of your mind.

You just wish you liked your job.

You like your work. You like walking into the office with a sense of purpose and you like profiling bad people and saving the good ones. You even like the shitty coffee that never seems to run out and you don’t mind the early call times and the sudden departures.

What you don’t like, however, is your boss. But you know that’s just because he doesn’t like you.

In your two years with the BAU, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Aaron throw a smile in your direction if it wasn’t meant for someone standing next to you. Two years of Aaron being dismissive and choosing to sit farthest from you in the conference room and on the jet. Two years of watching him foster friendships with your coworkers without sparing you a second glance. But work is work.

You’re an outsider. It’s almost what you expected.

Emily’s the first one to tell you that you don’t need to take it personally. Her rocky start with the BAU and stories of learning that trust takes time eased your worries for a while, but Aaron never seemed to give you the time of day aside collaborating with the rest of the team. Everyone says he’s notorious for being stoic and intimidating, but you don’t see it that way. In your mind, he loathes you.

Which is unfortunate, because you liked Aaron the most.

The guest lecture had sent you into a spiral of researching recently closed BAU cases and watching hours of press conferences led by Aaron. You appreciated the way he spoke about his work. He spoke about it like it was his due diligence and you liked that he treated each victim and their loved ones with grace and kindness.

It kills you to know that he doesn’t trust you despite doing your best in the field. Your six month review approached and you passed with flying colors, earning a short-lived celebration from Erin Strauss before she exited Aaron’s office. But he kept quiet the entire examination, aside from putting his own input with how you acted in the field. He said you were diligent, followed orders well enough, and could listen to directions. It was the most you’d ever heard Aaron speak about you, but the swell of pride didn’t last long.

Sometimes people compare the two of you when it comes to your worth ethic. Last ones to leave, can’t be bothered when focused, and the need to excel in your career field while downplaying your contribution. Perhaps the need to do good in the world catapulted you into considering a role where you’d be actively helping others instead of a career where it would be too late.

But every time you sit at your desk, opposite of Aaron’s office, you find yourself frowning. The blinds are always closed and you always wondered if Aaron could feel you staring at the emblem on his door when you wondered how you managed to keep your job.

“I can hear your brain all the way from here,” Derek says, leaning against the stall of your desk. You avert your eyes from the door to his voice. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you say.

Derek gives you a look. “I know it’s not nothing, sweetness.”

“Just tired,” you lie, “I slept poorly last night.”

Your gaze focuses on the files in front of you and Derek looks between you and Aaron’s office. He does his best not to let you know it’s been affecting him too; everyone’s noticed how Aaron’s been giving you the short end of the stick and that his wavering trust hasn’t disappeared like it had for the rest of them. It doesn’t do any good for team morale.

For a moment in the beginning of your time with the BAU, you think he’s asking you to prove yourself. You’re new, you need to get used to team dynamics, and you need to prove yourself capable before he can trust that you’d have everyone’s back. You understand that.

What you don’t understand, however, is why he treats you like a first-day agent after your contributions.

“Alright,” Derek says, knowing better than to pry you out of your work. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

He leaves you momentarily when Aaron steps out of his office. You try not to look up, but it’s hard to ignore him when your desk is pointed in front of his door. He’s wearing a classic black suit with a red tie, belt and shoes to match. You know what the look on his face means–there’s a case.

“Everyone in the conference room,” Aaron pointedly says.

Derek finishes pouring two cups of coffee and brings it over to the room where he sees you sitting in front of the screen. You thank him for the cup as he sits beside you and Reid gives you a small ‘good morning’ before everyone files into the conference room and their attentions are focused on the faces on the screen.

“Two children have gone missing in Los Angeles, California,” Penelope begins. “Gracie and Olivia McCormack, four and six respectively, were last seen in their shared bedroom last night and LAPD has contacted us to help find them.”

“Looks like the mother reported going into their bedroom to wake them up, only to find them missing,” you say, frowning.

“Is the father in the picture?” JJ asks.

“Jaqueline, the mother, divorced Scott McCormack before her youngest was born,” Penelope informs.

“New flame?” Emily wonders.

“Yes ma’am. Logan James.” Penelope presses a few buttons and Jaqueline and Logan appear on the screen. “This is where it gets tricky.”

“It looks like both Scott and Logan were abusive towards Jaqueline during their marriages,” David reads from the file.

“Jaqueline’s pretty familiar with the local hospital,” you mutter.

“We can talk about the file and start to strategize on our way to LA,” Aaron says, packing his file in his go-bag, which is already in hand. “Wheels up in thirty.”

***

The six hour plane ride doesn’t feel as nauseating as you had predicted. Your second cup of coffee sits on the table in front of you as your file is displayed on the surface, along with everyone else. Departure wasn’t terrible, mild turbulence followed but nothing you couldn’t handle. The armrest becomes your best friend on these flights.

“Did Scott kidnap Gracie and Olivia because he wants his kids?” Derek says aloud.

“Most likely,” Reid adds. “Scott’s a migrant construction worker. I can’t imagine anyone letting him raise two children without a steady home or income, though.”

“So he’s angry at the loss of his children and wants them back,” Aaron says. “Garcia, does Scott have any background of domestic abuse prior to his marriage with Jaqueline?”

“One count of domestic battery with a former girlfriend, but his childhood tells us a whole different story.”

“What is it, babygirl?” Derek beckons.

“Scott was born to heroin addicts and they’d leave him in hotel rooms for days while they tried to rob local convenience stores for money, presumably for their next high. Poor kid, he never stood a chance.”

“Damn,” Derek says, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine growing up like that.”

“He was put into the care of his grandparents on his mother’s side until he was six and–oh, ouch–he apparently caused too much trouble for himself that his grandparents gave him to the foster care system.”

“I can imagine that abandonment took a toll on Scott,” JJ says.

“Take the kids away from Jacqueline as punishment,” adds Rossi. “Makes sense, especially when Jacqueline was the one to file for divorce.”

“What about Jaqueline’s marriage with Logan? Haven’t we established that Logan was abusive during their marriage?” you ask.

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I think it’s important to consider him in all of this, Sir. If Logan was abusive to Jaqueline throughout their marriage, maybe Scott sees this kidnapping as some sort of effort to save them from harm.”

All eyes are on you now. It makes your skin crawl and you hope you don’t say the wrong thing.

“Go on.”

“If Scott really did take his kids, I don’t know if he did it to get back at her by kidnapping them. It makes more sense that Scott would want to save his children from an abuser. I mean, he knows what it’s like to live with abusive and absent parents. What if Scott wants to protect his children from suffering what he went through?”

“Interesting,” Dave hums. “You’re theorizing that Scott considers this kidnapping as rescuing?”

You nod. “It makes sense. Maybe he has some animosity towards Jaqueline for letting Logan into their lives and retaliates by taking his children away from her because he thinks he’s saving them.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Aaron says pointedly.

“I’m just spitballing,” you say. “I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes.”

“Well, let’s keep it that way.”

You shut your mouth and revert your eyes back to the file that’s in your lap, desperate for any minute distraction it can give you. The rest of the team is stunned in silence and Spencer tries his best to fill in the awkward silence by reviewing all of the facts that have been listed in the report.

At this moment, you feel small. Aaron’s dismissive attitude makes you feel somewhat inadequate at your job and you find it difficult to remind yourself of all the cases you’ve helped close when your boss has just undermined your work in front of your colleagues.

His coldness towards you is what you don’t get. Aaron has a reputation for maintaining professionalism, which you can appreciate, but it seems like his stoic tendencies extend far beyond keeping it civil in the workplace. It feels like you’ve been isolated and boxed out from day one and despite having gotten to know the rest of the team on a deeper level, you still walk on eggshells around Aaron. It makes you wonder why he hired you at all.

From the other side of the plane, Aaron takes a seat in an empty chair and looks out the window pensively. He knows he’s being hard on you and he knows it’s unfair that he’s treating you much harsher than the others, but Aaron knows that it’s for the best.

When you walked into his office for your initial interview, there was no doubt that you were the perfect candidate to fill in the role as a new profiler. Your past experiences had clued you into profiling and he promised Strauss that your addition to the team would benefit the BAU as a whole.

And Aaron was right. Cases were closing at a higher rate than previously, your quick thinking and problem solving skills aided the capture of many prolific criminals, and it almost felt like you’d been with the team since the beginning.

What Aaron didn’t account for, however, was developing feelings for you.

All it took was a simple undercover operation to see you in a completely different light. The unsub had targeted women who looked like you and you were more than ready to step up to the plate to catch him. It took seeing you in a sleek black dress to make Aaron’s heart lurch out of his chest and make him feel like he was a teenager in love all over again, and he hated it.

He hated feeling this way towards his coworker. For weeks, his mind bounced around the idea of what it might cost the team; your respective positions might cause an interference because of the dating policy set in place and how it would look from the outside. Aaron didn’t want to jeopardize your career by making it seem like you were providing unprofessional favors if news were to come out that you were romantically linked with him. He didn’t want your career to be damaged just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Moreover, Aaron hadn’t felt like this towards anyone since marrying Haley.

He had dated casually but never thought about the possibility of anything serious coming out of it. Aaron thought he might’ve come close to it when he had dated Beth for a while, but her career taking her across the country made him realize how unstable his life already was. Dating became a question of who gets along with Jack and the rest of his family and who is able to handle his frequent absences. His marriage to Haley showed Aaron the downside of traveling all the time and he’d be damned if he made that mistake again.

The idea of liking you in any capacity that wasn’t professional scared Aaron to death. He hates that he’s willing to find any excuse to walk by your desk or strike up a conversation with you if time permitted. He hates that his mind often wanders to a life of domesticity with you. The only logical possibility for him to combat his feelings for you is to keep you at arms length and treat you like he would any of his coworkers, which means keeping your personal lives separate and maintaining professionalism at all times.

It works a little too well and Aaron doesn’t realize it. He misplaces his anger—the frustration of knowing he can’t have you the way he wants you—and you’re at the receiving end. Aaron thinks he’s doing his best by delegating and separating you from him in the field, but he doesn’t realize that it’s causing professional tension because you constantly think you aren’t doing enough to help the team solve cases and catch criminals.

Aaron spends the rest of the flight looking over reports the precinct sent over before the plane lands in Los Angeles. You elect to keep your nose buried in your reports for the fear of looking like you aren’t working hard enough.

***

The Los Angeles weather has cooled down when you land and Aaron has ordered everyone to head to the precinct first thing after touching down. The detectives are kind enough to reserve a room for all of you to work out of and you waste no time setting up the white board with the missing girls and timeline of the abduction.

The stakes are high and you can feel the tension in the room. You aren’t a stranger to cases like these and you know that everyone is trying their best to keep themselves together for the sake of the department and the family of the victims. You try not to read into Aaron’s coldness to you too much. You’ve convinced yourself enough times that it’s the stress of the job and being away from his home that keeps him running on pure stress and adrenaline to prevent you from overthinking your position on his team.

Aaron has you and Spencer stay behind in the precinct to work on the profile and piece together a timeline of the abduction, and you’re more than grateful you don’t have to spend time in the field with him. The relaxation enters your body the section you see him step out of the precinct and Spencer can’t help but pry.

“You okay?” he asks.

You turn around from the white board and your sleeve smudges the freshly written text. The annoyance bubbles up in your chest and you hastily erase the mess you created and rewrite it before turning your attention back to Spencer.

“Stressed out, but otherwise I’m good.”

He pauses. “You’ve seemed that lately, though.”

“Can you blame me?” you ask defensively. “Our job isn’t exactly low-stress.”

“It’s just that every time Hotch enters the room, you stiffen up and you seem to lose your voice, and you play with your nails. It’s your biggest tell, actually.”

You give Spencer a pointed look. “Reid, I did not ask to be profiled.”

“Sorry,” he relents. “I just…look, I care about you and I hate seeing that you feel like you can’t share your ideas with us. Is something bothering you?”

You know Spencer knows. You’re sure the team knows why you’re apprehensive about your work and second guess yourself every time you bring forth a new theory or concept. But it’s hard to admit it out loud when all you’ve done is complain about him in your head and push your feelings aside for the sake of solving cases.

But you know Spencer has always looked out for you after the first time you took a bullet for him a week into the job after barely getting to know each other. It’s the same way that he looks out for you in the field, protecting your cover and being the first to volunteer partnering with you when Aaron asks. He’s keen and perceptive, and you know you can’t hide your feelings from him unless you want to jeopardize another relationship with your coworker.

“I feel like Hotch doesn’t like me,” you say earnestly. “And I mean it in a way that seems almost personal.”

“He’s been pretty distant,” Spencer adds.

You shake your head. “It feels like he doesn’t trust my judgment or values what I have to say unless one of you backs me up. I can’t really tell you when I started to feel this way, but I’ve always felt like I have to walk on eggshells around him or else he’ll fire me.”

“No one’s going to fire you,” Spencer reassures. “You have an exceptional skill at finding unsubs and getting into their heads. It’s quite impressive how you’re able to put yourself in their shoes.”

“Thanks, I think,” you say with a laugh. “But you saw what happened on the plane. Hotch shot down my theory and told me not to jump to any conclusions even though I was just theorizing. I feel like he doesn’t want to listen to what I have to say because he doesn’t think there’s any value in it.”

Spencer pauses. He sees your grip on the dry erase pen and knows how frustrated you feel. He knows you, the way you think, your work ethic, and just how badly you want to save these girls. He also knows how to distract you from your own feelings.

“Then tell me about your theory,” Spencer chides.

“Scott might’ve taken his children as a form of punishment against Jaqueline. Sure, I think that’s a plausible theory to go off of, considering she was the one who filed for divorce. But he was never abusive towards the girls, whereas Logan was abusive to all three of them.”

He smiles when he knows it’s working.

“So you’re thinking that Scott is trying to rescue Gracie and Olivia from further abuse?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “As a parent, I can’t imagine tolerating a stranger abusing your kids. Maybe in Scott’s mind, Jaqueline was allowing Logan to abuse them without realizing he was doing the same to her.”

“The wife had full custody of the kids too,” Spencer adds, opening a case file. “He was only allowed supervised visits with a social worker present if she allowed it to happen and in the time they’ve been divorced, she hadn’t let Scott see them since she and Logan got together.”

“Okay, so Scott had enough and wanted to take matters into his own hands. If his ex-wife won’t take care of the kids and neither will her new husband, it’s up to him to take care of the girls.”

“It looks like Scott’s had a problem with authoritative figures his entire life,” he says, frowning. Spencer turns the case file towards you. “His grandparents were physically and emotionally abusive and social workers did nothing about it. Looks like he was also a truant during his time in foster care.”

“Get this. He’s been fired from multiple construction sites because he couldn’t follow orders,” you read.

“Jacqueline was also the breadwinner of their relationship. I think Scott resents people who hold authority.”

“Scott wants to raise his kids,” you say, snapping your fingers. “It’s a rescue mission because he thinks he can raise them better than she can.”

Spencer grabs his phone and dials Aaron.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“Y/N and I talked more about her theory on the abduction. I think she’s right.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything. You’re almost sure he’s going to tell you to change the profile.

“We’ll meet you at the precinct in fifteen.”

***

You consider yourself lucky that Spencer backs your theory with claims and evidence. Your voice wavers multiple times when Aaron asks you to make your case, and the way he’s looking at you makes you doubt yourself.

But everyone comes to the realization that you’re right. A few conversations with Jacqueline and an interrogation with Logan convinces Aaron that your theory had been the correct one all along. You should feel happy, but you don’t.

You feel like you have to piggyback off of your coworkers and get them to support you before you can make your case heard. You feel like the smallest person in the room when you stand next to seasoned profilers who you’re sure Aaron values more than you. The weight of the world is on your shoulders and you carry it with you every time you formulate new ideas you want to share with the team.

But you don’t dwell on this too long.

Aaron has Spencer comb through security footage of local gas stations while Emily and David talk to Scott’s most recent employer. Derek and JJ are searching his last known whereabouts and searching for the girls, which leaves you and Aaron.

You’re barely able to hear his command. He wants you to talk to Jacqueline and try to coax more information out of her while he connects with Penelope about financial records and possible places he’s hiding the girls. She’s your age and he figures you might connect with her better than JJ did.

Jaqueline is understandably crying when you walk into the room. You hand her a box of tissues upon entering and she doesn’t say anything. She starts to open up after you tell her about yourself, your nieces and nephews, and you show her photos of them to prove yourself. You let her know you’re not a mother and can’t imagine the immense pain she’s going through, but you know what it’s like to care for people and how much it hurts when something bad happens to them.

Slowly, Jaqueline begins to talk. You ask her about her relationship with Scott and Logan, and all the important places that hold significance between the two marriages. She lists off a few and you make a note of it for later. Aaron calls you from the interview when Jaqueline has started to close herself in. He lets her go and gives her his business card in case she wants to talk, but tells her they’ll be in contact soon.

He doesn’t say a word about the interrogation. He just tells you to see if Derek and JJ need help canvassing more area.

Two days later and the team is nowhere near finding Jaqueline’s children. Scott’s previous employer had less than stellar things to say about him and you’re beginning to panic at the thought of your ability to catch him and save the girls. Penelope calls with a development and thinks one of two locations is where Scott might be hiding the children. His trailer in East LA or a small house a friend of his owns.

Aaron dispatches Dave, Emily, and JJ to the trailer while he commands you, Derek, and Spencer to follow him to the house. It’s located off of the freeway off the beaten path and you have a bad feeling about what’s about to happen.

Aaron’s driving like he knows something you don’t. You’ve taken a seat in the back with Spencer and listen as Derek points Aaron in the direction of the house. It’s getting dark outside, the sun is just barely above the horizon, and you know everyone has to be quick in order to save the girls if they’re in the house.

LAPD officers drive behind the SUV. Aaron pulls over and you can hear the gravel underneath the tire. You swing the door open with all your might and draw your gun out as the rest of the team does, following Aaron’s orders to follow behind him as they explore the house.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

The floorboards creak underneath you and Aaron tells you he’s going to clear the back of the house while you take the front. Everyone calls a distinctive ‘clear’ and you’re about to breathe out of frustration and ask Aaron if they’ve found the girls at Scott’s trailer when you hear the faint sound of someone crying from behind you.

You’re careful not to step too loudly despite the hardwood floors. Derek finds you and calls out your name but you put your finger to your lips and he silences himself. The sound of feet shuffling sounds incredibly quiet, but you swear you can hear footsteps somewhere behind you.

Spencer and Aaron join the two of you after hearing silence despite calling your names. Derek tells both men to silence themselves as you walk about the room, unsure of what you’re looking for. For the most part, nothing looks out of place. That is, until your hand falls on a set of books that feels much too hollow to contain any pages.

“What is it?” Derek asks from behind you.

“I don’t know…I think this is a false backing.”

And you’re right. You pull the books to reveal a small hidden entryway that’s dark, and it looks like it doesn’t lead to anything. Aaron’s halfway through telling you to let another police officer look through the crawl space because you have to take off your vest and gun to fit, but you’re not hearing it.

“Hotch, I’m the only one who’s small enough to fit through here,” you say. “I’m shorter than the rest of you and all of you are men. I don’t think Gracie or Olivia want to see someone who looks like their dad.”

“She’s right,” Spencer mumbles. You don’t wait for Aaron’s approval, venturing into the crawlspace.

Gracie and Olivia are understandably scared until you tell them their mother’s waiting for them at the police station. You help them out of the small room they’ve been kept in and notice how relatively furnished it is–a mattress, blankets, pillows, and coloring material–and make note of how your profile was right.

You don’t spare a glance at Aaron, too invested in making sure the children are safe with EMTs while they’re being checked for harm. Olivia asks you to stay with them and holds your hand, and you don’t bring yourself to leave them. When the EMTs let you know they aren’t injured and can visit the police station without going to the hospital, Aaron reluctantly lets you accompany both of them back to the precinct.

It’s well after dark by the time both children leave with Jaqueline. JJ and Emily have worked out a deal with local police to keep them under surveillance and protection until Scott has been captured and are instructed not to let Logan near the three of them for the time being.

You aren’t able to say goodbye to the three of them, instead recounting your story to the local detective who needs your statement for the paperwork while it’s fresh in your memory. You’re on a high after seeing the two girls reunite with their mother and the entire team congratulates you on a job well done when Aaron storms into the office, angry.

“Y/N, go back to the hotel.”

Aaron stands tall, his hands on his hips and his mouth etched in an angry frown. His voice is low and you can’t believe the words you’re hearing.

“To the hotel? Hotch, you can’t be serious.”

“You made a reckless decision to abandon your gun and vest. That could have gotten you killed,” Aaron says. “You are not capable of working under pressure.”

“You told the entire team to use our instincts and that’s exactly what I did. I saved two little girls, for God’s sake.”

“You are hot headed and have this overwhelming urge to prove yourself when nobody cares how well you perform,” Aaron says angrily. “The entire time you’ve been with the BAU, you’ve barely contributed aside from piggybacking off of someone else to reach a conclusion.”

That, you know, is a lie. Aaron just wants to hurt you.

“At this very moment, you are incompetent and can’t hold yourself together for the sake of the victims and their families.”

“We have to catch Scott.”

“You can’t do your job, go back to the hotel.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I don’t have to be.”

“Hotch.”

“I want you gone, Y/N,” Aaron says firmly. “Go back to the hotel or hand in your badge.”

Unbelievable.

You don’t spare Aaron another glance. Your feet carry you out to the lobby and your breath is so uneven that you need to step aside into an empty interrogation room to calm yourself down. Your jaw clenches and you ball your fists to gather some sort of relief, but you don’t find it. Instead, your nails dig into your palm until it turns white and you let go, exiting the room without another word.

The keys to the SUV are still in your pocket. You don’t necessarily care that the team will have to squeeze into the remaining vehicles and you don’t care enough to let one of them know you’ve made it outside.

Your hands shake when you reach into your pocket. The warmth of the metal is familiar and your hand pulls it out when a stray tear falls from your face and splashes onto your cheek. Hastily, you enter the car and slam the door shut and lock it when you feel yourself overcome with sadness and anxiety.

The tears fall freely at this point and you bow your head to the steering wheel, your breaths hot and mouth wet from crying. The back of your sleeves are soaked as you try to wipe away your tears to no avail and your vision becomes too blurry to drive.

You allow yourself a few minutes to cry. The sound of your gasps echo throughout the care and your shoulders feel heavy with every sob. The weight of the world is truly on your shoulders now and you aren’t sure if you have a job when you go back to Quantico.

But you pull yourself together and drive back to the hotel. It feels much longer than it needs to be and you sit in the driver’s seat for a moment when you park the car. You hate that you feel incapable of being a member of the team without Aaron breathing down your neck. You hate that you can’t live up to his expectations and that you try to in the first place. Working at the BAU wasn’t supposed to be a nightmare.

You exit the car and lock it behind you, another stray tear escaping. You feverishly rid yourself of the tear and walk to the entrance of the hotel when you feel someone grabbing you from behind and an acute sense of pain at the base of your neck.

It’s black after that.

Back in the station, the local police have distracted themselves with their case files and other happenings while the rest of the team looks at Aaron in shock. Spencer's looking at the empty space where you stood and Emily is looking at Aaron like he’s grown a second head.

“Are you serious?” she begins. “Hotch, we need everyone on this. We need Y/N.”

“She’s too hot headed,” Aaron replies.

“Oh yeah?” Derek chimes in. “And how about you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“You know damn well that Y/N adds as much value to this team as the rest of her. Two years with the BAU and stellar reviews from the board has proven that. Why are you still treating her like a first-day agent?”

“Y/N needs to learn to let go of her ego,” Aaron retaliates. “I don’t need to explain myself to any of you.”

“You’re wrong about her not contributing anything,” Spencer says. It surprises Aaron to hear Reid defy him on your behalf. “For the cases that we’ve worked on with her, she’s been the one to take lead on the preliminary profiles for most of them. Some of our biggest leads have come from her.”

Aaron breathes and doesn’t say a thing. He looks at his team and knows they don’t approve of his choice to send you back to the hotel, but he stands by it. David looks at him like he’s almost disappointed in him and JJ holds his stare.

He knows why he’s being extra hard on you. He knows he’s pushing you to your limit by keeping you at arm’s length. Aaron doesn’t want to admit that he sees you as anything other than his subordinate and coworker, but he does. He doesn’t want to be the reason why you don’t advance within the bureau and why there might be a future workplace ban on relationships. Even if he disagrees with how you handled things tonight.

Aaron doesn’t communicate any of this with the team while he stares them down. Instead, he fixes his posture and clears his throat.

“Get back to work.”

***

When you come to, you’re acutely aware of the handcuffs around your wrist.

The air is cold and you realize you’re bound to a pole in a barn, and you’re not sure where you are. Everything is suddenly hazy and your vision blurs until you blink rapidly with the hope that you’ll regain full consciousness.

The first thing you can feel is a headache. Your head’s pounding viciously and you wince at the pain, inadvertently tugging in your wrist and against the handcuffs. The metal is cold and it sends a chill up your spine when you realize you’re alone. You try your best to recite what you can sense over and over again in your mind.

The air is cold. You’re sitting on a hard floor with straw and other debris around you. The air smells like manure and hay. You can hear crickets and wind blowing just outside of the barn, and you can see hardware tools towards the back of the building.

The influx of emotions that creep into your chest is enough to make any person an anxiety-ridden mess. Your heart feels like it’s going to lurch out of your chest with every second that passes by because your reality becomes more real; this isn’t a nightmare you’re desperately hoping to wake up from.

“Look who’s awake.”

It’s Scott.

He flickers the lights on and that’s when you realize he’s holding a gun.

“You took quite a while to wake up, actually. I’ve been waiting here for two hours wondering when you’d return to the land of the living.”

Scott dons a smirk that you wish you could wipe off with both of your fists. His right hand grips the gun haphazardly and he waves it around as he gestures while speaking, and the fear of dying has finally crept into the forefront of your mind.

“Where are we?” you ask.

“South of Los Angeles,” Scott replies. “Far enough that your little team won’t find this patch of land.”

“Why’s that?”

His smirk widens when you stay quiet.

“You know, Agent, I find you interesting.”

“There’s nothing remotely interesting about me,” you say. You try your best to remember the profile and give him what he wants. He hates authority and between the two of you, you legally have all of it. So, you downplay yourself,

“I beg to differ,” he laughs. Scott takes a step towards you and you recoil. “I’ve been watching this investigation unfold because I need to keep tabs on what’s happening so that I don’t get caught. It’s worked so far, but you were just lucky to have found my little girls.”

“We found them because you made a mistake,” you chide. “You slipped up.”

Scott’s smirk turns into anger, and he takes another step towards you.

“I made a mistake because I wasn’t thinking far ahead, Agent.”

He takes another step and he’s by your thigh. Scott bends down to your level and you’re aware of how close his gun is to your abdomen, and you pray that you don’t say the wrong thing.

“I wasn’t thinking far ahead because I couldn’t see the bigger picture. But it came to me a few nights ago when I realized that you and I are people that don’t naturally get to be in the spotlight.”

Scott caresses your cheek and you shudder underneath his fingertips. He retracts and stands up, pacing back and forth in front of you.

“See, you and I are people who don’t get enough credit for our work. All it took was one moment watching your horrendous boss dismiss you for your work. I knew you’d be the key in getting my girls back to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Scott leans forward. “You’re smart enough to figure it out.”

Unfortunately, it comes to you quickly.

The team had gathered around the house that Jaqueline and Scott had lived in when they were married. Penelope had clued the team in on this location. A new couple lived in that house with no connection to Jaqueline and Scott but you thought it was worth checking out.

Aaron disagreed. That house hadn’t been occupied by either of them for years since they got a divorce but your gut had been telling you to visit the property to look around for extra clues that might’ve turned up. Your insistence angered him, who accused you of disobeying orders, and it was David who had to intervene and remind Aaron never to leave any stone unturned.

Reluctantly, Aaron ordered the team to the house and you successfully convinced the new owners to let you look through their property with the promise that nothing would be disturbed. Two hours into searching and Aaron was ready to write your mishappenings in the file report when he returned to Quantico, but your sudden interest in the backyard piqued everyone’s interest.

You had discovered a well-hidden doorway to an underground room. The new family would’ve never seen it, as it was tucked away with roots and other invasive plants that covered the wooden doorway. When you and Morgan entered the space, it was clear that Scott had been there recently.

Unbeknownst to you, Scott has been hiding out a few houses down watching everything unfold, including the way Aaron distrusted your judgment. He’d been using that bunker as a living space, careful to work around the new family so as to not get caught. It was far enough that they couldn’t see him from where the windows were placed unless they were out in the backyard the same as he was.

“Remember now?” he asks.

You nod, complying. “You watched my boss reprimand me for wasting everyone’s time.”

He nods. “You and I are overworked and underappreciated. We don’t get credit or recognition even though we deserve it.”

“You knew we’d find Gracie and Olivia.”

Scott’s jaw locks but he agrees.

“I knew there was no way I’d be able to get to my girls in time to move them someplace else. So, I let you find them because I knew that I’d have no other chance to get them back if you arrested me.

“Then I followed you all the way back to the precinct so I could keep tabs on you and see where you were staying. It was just my luck that I happened to hear your boss yelling at you because of an open window. I knew my chance was when he ordered you to go back to the hotel.”

“How do I fit into all of this?” you ask.

“You, Agent, are going to help me get my kids back from Jaqueline and cover for me.”

“No chance in hell.”

Scott doesn’t like that answer. He lunges towards you and tugs on your hair, enough to make your scalp feel like it’s being set on fire.

“You don’t have a choice. I want my kids back and you aren’t in the position to make any demands.”

He doesn’t say much after that. Scott looks into your eyes with a murderous expression before letting you go. Your head hits the pole behind you because he pushed you away with enough force that it makes you dizzy again.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Scott says from the barn’s entrance. “I need some sleep and so do you.”

He doesn’t uncuff you and you’re left wondering how you can sleep when you’re being held captive.

***

When the team leaves the precinct, everyone is too drained to continue talking about the case on the ride back. They’d only been there two hours after you left but Aaron gets the feeling that the rest of them aren’t happy with him dismissing you.

The ride is silent and everyone retreats to their rooms respectively. He tries to forget the aching feeling in his chest and goes to sleep.

He wakes up to a cold sweat.

Aaron’s still not happy what perspired last night. He nearly made the choice to knock on your door and apologize for being harsh in front of the team and the local police, but he doesn’t. It’s better to put distance. It’s how he rationalizes how he’s treating you because he’ll fall apart if he imagines the consequences of being in a relationship with you.

You’re the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up. He’s surprised he didn’t hear you knocking on his door to give him a piece of your mind, but he was too tired to consider that you didn’t.

His clock reads six A.M. and he’s sure the rest of the team is waking up and heading to the police station like he is. Aaron feels more tired with each day passing and it feels like his body is on autopilot mode with how fast he’s able to change and get to the precinct.

The team trickles in one by one and everyone makes their coffee before picking up where they left off last night. Penelope had sent the team a list of possible places that Scott might be and Aaron wants to cover as much ground as possible.

When he’s more awake, he mentally groups the team and the other police officers to search each property.

He stops when he realizes you’re not in the precinct.

At first, Aaron feels annoyed because he thinks you’re late. It isn’t completely out of character for you, as he’s watched you stumble into the office a few minutes before debriefing. Still, he prays that you’ll show up so everyone can move on with their day.

But you don’t come in. Every person that walks through the door isn’t you and Aaron’s annoyance becomes a question of curiosity with fear at the end of it.

“Where’s L/N?” Morgan asks from beside him.

“Probably slept in,” JJ snorts. “She sleeps like a brick.”

Everyone laughs at her comment in good fun because they know it’s true. You’re a heavy sleeper. But Aaron isn’t convinced. Something doesn’t feel right to him but he can’t quite place what it is.

He gives it another ten minutes. Aaron’s bouncing from leg to leg, anticipating your arrival. He’s waiting for you to hastily apologize about not hearing your alarm and he’s waiting for you to jump right where you left off because of your tardiness.

But you never walk through the door.

“Something’s wrong,” Aaron mutters. Spencer nods at his disheveled expression from where he sits and Emily looks down at her phone.

“I know she’s a heavy sleeper but there’s no way she’d be twenty minutes late with the stakes this high,” Emily points out.

JJ walks out of the room the BAU is occupying and inquires with everyone outside if they’ve seen you come in, but all of them say they haven’t seen you since last night. JJ walks back into the room with shaking hands and she’s almost reluctant to tell Aaron that nobody has seen you yet.

Emily tries to call your cell phone one more time with no luck. Aaron sends Derek to check on you at the hotel and doesn't bother to respect the speed limit on the ten minute drive to the hotel from the station. The receptionist is more than willing to give him a key to your room when you don’t answer your phone.

When he walks in, he notices that you aren’t sleeping in the bed. Your room is clean. The bed is made and there’s no indication that you slept in it last night. Your go-bag is perched on the table and a few clothes are haphazardly thrown on the chair beside it. Nothing seems out of place.

It’s when he walks back outside to return to the station that he hears a phone ringing from the bushes. Derek walks towards the sound and his breath catches in his throat when he realizes the phone is yours. He curses and picks up the phone to see Emily’s contact.

“L/N?”

“It’s me,” Derek says through your phone. “L/N’s not here and her phone was tossed in the bushes.” Metal catches Derek’s eye. “Wait a minute.”

He walks forward with caution and his heart drops when he realizes it’s a discarded needle and your gun right next to it.

“What is it?” Emily asks from the other line. She hears Derek sigh and she knows it can’t be good.

“It’s a needle and her gun, Prentiss. L/N not showing up to the precinct and her belongings being discarded can’t be a coincidence.”

From the police station, Emily panics. She hangs up when Derek lets her know he’s coming back and her panic rises when she sees her teammates looking at her quizzically. The lump in her throat grows when she realizes everyone is looking at her for an answer.

“Did you find her?” JJ asks. Emily doesn’t speak for a second.

“Morgan found her cell phone in the bushes by the front of the hotel,” Emily explains. “He also found a discarded needle...and her gun.”

Aaron’s attention shifts from the file he’s holding to Emily, who’s fidgeting with her hands.

“Her gun?” Dave asks for clarification. “Found outside of the hotel room?”

Emily nods. “Morgan picked up L/N’s phone and said he found it tossed aside.”

“And none of us saw her when she left the precinct?”

Nobody says anything.

“I think she’s been kidnapped,” Reid says abruptly. “None of us saw her when we got back to the hotel nor when we arrived at the precinct. Scott must know Y/N was the one who rescued his daughters and he’s either kidnapped her out of revenge or because he wants them back.”

Aaron doesn’t like that answer.

His hands feel warm and his heart is racing too quickly for his liking. Aaron can feel his exterior start to wither away with the realization that you’ve been kidnapped and he doesn’t second guess himself when he calls Penelope and asks her to track Scott’s cell phone and to triangulate his last known location.

This is now a rescue mission and he hates that you’re the victim.

The team doesn’t spare a second in finding a third location he could’ve taken you too. Penelope foregoes any of her other responsibilities to find you and Aaron can hear the frantic pace of her keyboard typing as she speaks. Derek and Spencer are visiting locations that hold significance to Scott in the event that he’s returned, but Aaron's doubtful that he’d make that mistake.

It’s when JJ explains what’s happening to the lead detective does Aaron feel like his world is crumbling around him. He’s put himself at arm’s length so much as to push you away from him and right into the arms of the unsub, and he feels like he might pass out in the middle of the precinct.

Emily and Dave pick up how quiet Aaron’s been ever since Penelope hung up. He’s too busy staring at the white board and it doesn’t help that your handwriting is all over it. Aaron’s throat is dry and he’s a second away from starting to blame himself for your disappearance, but he knows that he doesn’t have enough time to feel sorry for himself if he wants to find you.

When Derek comes back and tells the team there’s been no luck in finding you, Aaron’s heart sinks. He’s running out of options and he knows his head isn’t where it should be, but he can’t help it. Aaron does his best to keep himself composed when Spencer tries to piece together your timeline and he hates that they’re treating you like a abduction victim because you should be in this room with them. Instead, you’re God knows where and Aaron doesn’t bring himself to imagine that you might be dead already.

It’s Spencer who makes the connection between you and his children. He theorizes that Scott must’ve been present when you had rescued the children and kidnapped you for one of two reasons: to exact revenge or to force you to help him get his children back. JJ suspects that it’s the latter because of your profile. Scott wants to get his children back and he’d do anything to do it.

Dave wonders why Scott would risk kidnapping a federal agent and how he knew you’d be at the precinct or the hotel, and Spencer doesn’t hold his tongue when he said the only common link between the two of you is the way you’d both been treated by your superiors.

The room goes quiet and Spencer thinks he’s overstepped, but he doesn’t regret his choice of words.

Everyone looks at Aaron, who’s been silent the entire time. He thinks about how angry you were last night and how he convinced himself he didn’t see you shed a tear as you passed him. The guilt of sending you home and not checking in on you when he got back to the hotel is eating him alive because you’ve been missing for twelve hours and nobody knew about it.

“Reid’s right,” Aaron says. He feels his voice start to break. “We know why he’s taken L/N but now we need to understand how he’s going to use her in order to get his children back.”

Aaron’s phone rings and he’s grateful for the distraction. Penelope informs them of a house that was paid in all cash and purchased under a false identity a few months ago, and confirms that it was Scott who paid for the property after speaking with the realtor and showing her a photo. Aaron wastes no time ordering the team to head to the house and he feels like he’s running out of time when Penelope says the property is seventy miles from the precinct.

The ride to the property is agonizing. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is lethal and he’s swerving between every car with the hopes that he’ll reach you in time. Emily’s sitting in the passenger seat and she knows there’s nothing either of them can do except hope that you’re alive and well.

“We’ll find her,” she says after a long period of silence. “You know L/N. She’s strong and won’t go down without a fight.”

Aaron hesitates to speak. He gulps and he feels like his mouth is far too dry to hold a decent conversation because while he knows that Emily’s right, he can’t help but feel utterly hopeless on the freeway while you’re being held hostage by Scott.

“I shouldn’t have told her to go to the hotel,” Aaron says. “I should’ve left it at reprimanding her for going in alone. We could’ve avoided all of this.”

“You of all people know you couldn’t have predicted that Scott would’ve done,” Emily said. “It wasn’t in the profile. Neither of us could’ve predicted that he’d kidnap L/N.”

“I know.” Aaron signals and passes three cars who are driving far too slow for his liking.

He’s silent again, which doesn’t surprise Emily. Aaron sits in the driver’s seat, a million thoughts racing to the front of his head but he can’t seem to choose the right words to speak. He knows how unfair he’s been to you and all the anger and frustration about not being able to be with you has transpired into this mess he’s found himself in. He should’ve never let his feelings get to this point nor let his frustration shift from the forbidden relationship onto you.

“I’ve been unfair to her,” Aaron croaks. He hears the crack in his voice as it starts to falter, but he keeps talking because he thinks he might go insane if they sit in any more silence. “I’ve pushed her aside and made her second guess herself as an agent of this team all because I couldn’t keep my feelings in check.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asks. Aaron sighs and he grips his steering wheel, embarrassed that he’s been an unfair leader and that he’s admitting it to one of his colleagues.

“L/N is an exceptional agent and it’s no wonder why I fell for her.”

Emily’s quiet and Aaron’s sure he’s made a mistake by confessing that to her. He wishes he could take it back and lie instead of being honest with his friend, but he can’t take back the words he’s said. And he stands by it.

“I’ve been so busy trying to pretend like I don’t have feelings for her but every day I’m scared that something like this could happen to her. I hate it when she’s reckless and disobeys orders because I’m afraid that it’ll get her killed.

“I know what it looks like on the outside to see me and my subordinate in a romantic relationship. She’s young, career-driven, and I’d hate to stand in the way of whatever’s next for her. I don’t know how to act around her and I thought that pushing all of this down would help me lose feelings for her, but I haven’t.”

“You sound like a teenager,” Emily says. It shocks him and when he looks at her quizzically, Emily chuckles. “What, you think I couldn't see how hopeless you were when it came to L/N? Hotch, you’re like a kid in a candy store when she’s around. The rest of us were ready to start placing bets on you two until you started giving her the short end of the stick.”

He feels awful. Aaron’s guilt causes him to flex and rev the engine.

“I never meant to hurt her,” he confesses. “But that doesn’t matter now.”

“What matters is that we’re on our way to rescue her and there’s nowhere else she could be,” Emily reassures. “Scott wants his kids back and he knows they’re in LA county. There’s no way he would risk taking her somewhere else when he doesn’t have Gracie and Olivia.”

“Right,” Aaron says, clearing his throat. Neither he nor Emily need to chide him for how he’s been treating you. He knows he’s wrong and Emily knows it too.

“L/N is the strongest out of all of us. She’ll make it through this.”

Aaron has a sneaking suspicion that Emily’s trying to convince herself, but he doesn’t say anything.

When the team reaches the property, it’s notably quiet. The next neighbor is two miles down the road and Derek’s ready to search the house when Aaron steps out of his vehicle.

“More backup’s two minutes out,” Aaron explains, “but we’ve got enough people to start the search. Reid and JJ, check the backyard. Prentiss and Rossi, check the house. Morgan, you’re with me. We’re checking the garage.”

Aaron orders the police officers to check elsewhere before he and Morgan make their way to the garage. With his gun and flashlight in his hands, he approaches the enclosed space with caution and his heart spikes with anxiety. Before he can think about the worst that could happen, two police officers manage to open the garage door as he and Derek search the place.

It’s empty.

Aaron curses under his breath as they check the confined space but find nothing out of the ordinary. The rest of the team relates the same information and Aaron feels like he’s losing hope because he doesn't know where else you could possibly be.

“Guys, there’s a barn across the landing,” comes JJ’s voice from the communications line. “There’s a truck parked outside and I’m willing to bet it’s Scott’s.”

Aaron’s heart stops beating for a moment.

“We need to search that barn,” Aaron commands. “Everyone pull your resources and let’s head out.”

It feels like slow motion to him, the way he diverts his attention to the barn that JJ pointed out. He feels like he’s watching the scene unfold in front of him from another person’s perspective and desperately prays that you’re in there, safe and alive. The grip on his gun is falling from how his hands are trembling but he reminds himself that he has a job to do.

Dave touches the hood of the car and says it’s warm, which means Scott is most likely inside of the barn. The lead detective is ordering his team to secure the back entrance and surround the building so that Scott has no place to run and Aaron instructs his team to do the same at the front. Under hushed voices, he can almost make out the faint scout of scuffling coming from behind the large wooden doors and feels his throat close.

Then he hears a gunshot.

Everyone rushes inside and he’s overcome with dread when he walks inside. Aaron’s heart is racing; he can feel the grip of his gun slipping because of how unsteady his hands are and he’s nearly tripping from all the hay that he’s stepping on. He fears the worst when he enters and does his best to prepare himself to see your lifeless body.

But you’re laying on your stomach with a gun in your hands.

You don’t process the ringing in your ears until Aaron moves beside you to reach for the gun in your hands. He’s tossed it aside and maneuvers you to check for any injuries. Aaron glances at your face and notices a deep bruise forming on your left temple with scratches and smaller bruises adorning your face, and he hates it.

He hates that your body and face is covered in Scott’s blood. He hates that your hands are still shaking with fear. He hates that there’s nothing he can say or do that will make everything better for you.

The shirt you’re wearing is covered in Scott’s blood spatter and you’re barely able to process that you’ve most likely broken a few ribs. You don’t say anything. The overwhelming urge to cry resurfaces and this time, you don’t stop yourself.

Aaron catches you before you hit your head onto the ground and moves his body to sit behind you. You’re stationed between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as you slump over and grab his arm for support as your tears wet his dress shirt. Aaron foregoes all standard procedure and lets you cry in his arms instead of calling for the EMT to whisk you away from the hospital.

You don’t care that your cries are almost louder than the ambulance sirens. Your adrenaline makes the blood pump loudly in your ears and you grip onto Aaron like you’re afraid Scott will come back to life and kill you if you let go.

His free arm is secured around you. Aaron’s eyes become glossy as each second passes by and his heart breaks in two when he hears your continual cries.

“You did so good,” Aaron whispers. “So good. You’re safe now.”

Aaron doesn’t let the EMT get close to you when you’re trembling in his arms. He tells them to wait a moment and they try to argue with him, but they relent when they see Aaron’s stern expression. His voice cracks when he tries to speak upon hearing your soft whimpers. Your eyes are screwed shut and Aaron strokes your hair as you bury yourself further deeper into him.

Dave and Spencer canvas the scene and look around for anything out of the ordinary to report. Derek's speaking with the EMTs while JJ and Emily are patiently waiting with blankets and bottles of water for you. But you don’t get up. Your legs feel numb from sitting down and Aaron’s grip on you is so tight that you feel like you’ll fall back down if you try to stand up.

Your sobs have turned quiet and you almost feel like you’re at peace. But then you remember your bruises and the blood still on your body. You remember Scott’s body and find yourself crying even harder.

“Let’s get you to a hospital,” Aaron says in your ear. “We can get you cleaned up and on your way home. Does that sound good?”

His voice is like honey. Sweet.

You nod and you try your best to sit up to no avail. Aaron tries to help you up and the EMTs catch you before you can fall back onto the ground. He reluctantly lets the EMTs take you to the ambulance where JJ and Emily are waiting. He watches as they drape a blanket over you and as you’re wheeled up into the vehicle. Emily offers to follow you to the hospital and JJ steps away, letting the ambulance drive off.

Aaron doesn’t process anything. He doesn’t hear the sirens, the police chatter, or Dave approach him with a concerned look.

“She’s gonna be okay, Aaron.”

Dave’s voice is nothing but a hollow shell to Aaron. It feels like an empty promise even though he knows you’re going to make it out alive. Still, Aaron doesn’t say a word.

“Let’s go meet her at the hospital.”

***

The doctor explains that you’ve suffered a concussion, a couple of bruised ribs, a broken arm, and a grazed bullet wound. You’ll be relatively fine, but Aaron’s heart is racing and can't get past seeing you covered in blood to pay attention to anything the doctor is saying. He hasn’t had time to beat himself up for sending you back to the hotel without accompaniment and he hates that the guilt is crashing in on him when you need him the most.

Aaron looks down at his sleeves and they’re covered in blood, dirt, and your mascara. He stares down in shock and his mind flashes to the barn, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s ever seen you cry before. It breaks him.

The doctor explains that they needed to sedate you because of your sudden adrenaline rush. Your shock had caused you to lash out when a nurse had grabbed your wrist, and through your clouded judgment, you’d swung at him with all of your might. Your fretful apologies made you uncontrollably sob afterwards and the nurse could only look at you with sympathy.

Two hours later, the team was still waiting in the waiting room. Under the guise of wanting to get you something to eat other than stale hospital food, Aaron leaves to buy you a meal. But he needs to get ou and get fresh air before he suffocates.

Aaron’s guilt eats him alive. He walks aimlessly towards a deli and scolds himself over and over again for making you drive to the hotel unsupervised. In hindsight, Aaron knows his personal feelings came into play when he berated you for your recklessness. He knows he was unfair to you because he would’ve done the same thing if he were in your position.

When he returns, Dave’s looking at him like he knows what he’s thinking, but doesn’t say anything. Aaron appreciates his friend’s concern but the guilt doesn’t relent. He fidgets in his seat and tries to calm his spiking anxiety but nothing seems to work. His mind retracts to the moment he found you covered in Scott’s blood and your cries are enough to make Aaron feel like he might shed a tear in front of his teammates.

His thoughts are disrupted when he sees your doctor approach the group.

“She’s a little out of it,” says the doctor, “but she’s conscious. You’re all welcome to say hello, but only for a few minutes.”

When the doctor directs the team to your room, she explains what happened after you reached the hospital. Aaron can’t process anything she’s saying. His ears are ringing and he feels like everyone around him is talking too loudly for him to be able to hear anything the doctor is saying. All he can pick up is “dehydrated” and “concussed.”

Everyone hastily walks to the room you’re in. JJ files into the room first. It takes Aaron a few breaths to find the courage to step inside of the room and he’s sure Emily’s the one who helped him take the first step.

“What’s the prognosis?” your croaked voice asks. JJ sniffles and laughs at the same time, and the rest of the group watch you try to prop yourself up.

“How you’re able to joke at a time like this is beyond me,” JJ gushes. She takes a pillow from the bed and helps you sit up.

“What, a few broken ribs and a concussion? I’m lucky the bullet only grazed me.”

Nobody laughs but you can tell they’re trying their best.

Aaron towers over everybody easily and he’s in between trying to catch your gaze and trying to avoid it. Emily hands you the sandwich from the local deli and you waste no time, opening the wrapper and letting the aioli slide down the side of your mouth.

It’s easily the most adorable and most heartbreaking thing Aaron has ever seen.

“Slow down, Tiger,” says Derek. He grabs a nearby napkin and wipes the sauce away while you smile sheepishly.

“Sorry,” you mutter, taking slower bites. Spencer’s next to hug you and you welcome the way he refuses to let you go.

Everyone looks at you under the harsh lights of the hospital room and you feel like you’re being observed. The sedative you’d been given is enough to make you feel somewhat normal because no matter how hard you try to panic over the last few hours, you can’t.

You feel like you’re numb to your experiences and the pain Scott inflicted. Staring at your team feels eerily normal and you almost forget that you’re sitting in a hospital gown with enough injuries to put you out of the field for a few months.

“You broke my heart, kiddo,” Dave chimes in. He grabs your free hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, accompanied by a kiss to the back of your hand. JJ pulls you into a mother-like embrace, kissing the crown of your head. You lean into her touch and Aaron wishes he were the one comforting you.

“I feel like shit,” you confess. “I woke up feeling groggy and I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

“We’re so glad you’re okay, Y/N,” Emily says.

“Thanks, Em,” you say. You take another bite. “This sandwich is good.”

“Aaron bought it,” Emily speaks.

You look at him. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged his presence since he walked into the room.

“Thanks,” you mumble behind the sandwich. “I could eat five of these.”

“I don’t want to deal with you puking on us,” Spencer jokes, and it makes you feel somewhat normal.

You don’t like feeling as though you’re a delicate piece of glass that’s close to being dropped. You hate feeling useless and pitied. Everyone’s looking at you with sad eyes and it makes you feel like you’ve let your colleagues down, even though you know there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent what transpired.

“I’m really sleepy,” you say, haphazardly throwing the wrapper on the table next to you. It isn’t a lie, but you say it with the hopes of being alone.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” JJ says. She looks at the clock in front of her and doesn’t realize that it’s four in the morning. You squeeze her hand when her eyes well up. JJ wipes her eyes and blinks her tears back and you lean against her side.

Aaron can’t help but stare. You look so vulnerable at this moment and you’re doing your best to keep yourself awake, but the sedatives are making you drowsy. The team says their goodbyes and reluctantly trek back to the hotel, but Aaron can’t bring himself to walk into the building once he’s parked.

“Get changed,” Dave says after a brief moment of silence. Aaron looks at him in confusion. “Take a shower, eat something from the vending machine, and go back to the hospital.”

“She doesn't want me there,” he says slowly.

“She’s asleep,” Dave dismisses. “She’s not going to know you’re there and I’m sure she’ll want to see a familiar face when she wakes up.”

“I’m not sure I’m the person she wants to see.”

“You were the first person she reached for when we entered the barn,” Dave explains, “and I know you won’t be sleeping a wink tonight unless you’re by L/N’s side. Go get changed and get back to the hospital, Aaron.”

“I just–”

“I know you feel guilty. Whatever feelings you have towards her never went away and that’s why you’ve been so hard on her.” Aaron’s not surprised that he’s picked up on this habit. “I don’t have to agree with how you handled it, but what matters is that she’s alive and she’s resting. We got her back, Aaron. She’s here and Scott isn’t.”

Aaron knows Dave is right. He thanks him for being a good friend and trudges back into his hotel room, hastily freshening himself up before returning back to the hospital.

***

You wake up later in the morning with little to no recollection of how you got there. You feel extremely out of it, like someone removed a ton of bricks from your chest after keeping it there for a fortnight. You look to your left and see a window that shows you a gloomy D.C. morning. You look to your right and see Aaron Hotchner slumped over in a seat, asleep.

This wakes you up. You’re blinking the sleep out of your eyes when you realize he’s snoring. It’s soft and unassuming, but you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him sleep.

The chairs must be uncomfortable, too. You do your best to sit up—which is when you notice the sling on your arm—and manage to prop yourself up on the pillows until you’re sitting upright. Aaron stirs in his sleep at the sound but he’s still asleep.

You’re not close enough to reach him and wake him up. You aren’t sure that you want to either, for the fear that he might start telling you a laundry list of all the things you did wrong throughout the case.

The doctor from last night walks in and knocks on your door, which shifts your focus. Aaron’s still asleep and the doctor, who reintroduces herself as Dr. Aguta, gently walks around Aaron and to your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” she asks you while holding a clipboard. You notice her colorful print skirt first and it’s a contrast to how grey it is outside.

“My head hurts,” you say with a croak. It’s the first thing you’ve said since you woke up. “And I realized my arm’s broken. But other than that, I feel fine.”

Dr. Aguta gives you a pleasant smile. “I’m glad to hear that you’re doing okay. The sedatives we gave you last night seemed to help ease your pain, though I’ll be giving you a prescription for the rest of the month when it wears off.”

She hesitated before speaking again.

“Do you remember why you’re here?”

Unfortunately, you do. You remember Scott, the gun, and Aaron coaxing you to go with the EMTs. It’s mostly a blur and you can’t remember the details but you remember enough. The softened expression is a dead giveaway and Dr. Aguta doesn’t press any further.

She sees your gaze shift to Aaron, who still hasn’t woken up.

“He came last night and insisted on staying with you,” Dr. Aguta informs. “Typically I’d only let immediate family stay overnight, but your boss seemed extremely worried about you.”

“He did?” you ask. It’s news to you.

She nods. “When I saw him for the first time last night, I could tell he’s a man of few words and the leader of your team. But last night he was a stuttering mess and I let him stay overnight with the condition that he doesn’t wake you.”

You don’t say anything. Aaron’s mouth is partly ajar and you know he’s going to wake up with a lot of back pain from how he’s positioned. Dr. Aguta performs a routine check up on you and lets you know that you’ll be discharged from the hospital the following day. You thank her profusely and she can only give you a reassuring smile. You ask her to wake Aaron up for you just before she leaves.

Aaron blinks and remembers he’s not in the hotel. Dr. Aguta excuses herself to give the both of you privacy and he sits upright, stretching his back unpleasantly.

“Morning,” he says, clearing this throat. “How do you feel?”

You’re getting tired of answering this question but you humor him.

“Better,” you say honestly. “Aside from my broken arm and concussion.” Aaron’s gaze shifts to your arm and he almost winces.

“Did you sleep well?”

“For the most part, but I think the sedatives had more to do with it than anything.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

An awkward silence falls over the both of you. Aaron desperately tried to pull himself together by waking himself up and you’re fiddling with your hands. You noticed he’s changed since you saw him last night, now in slacks and a quarter zip, and you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him look so casual.

Aaron’s trying to think of the right words to say. As your boss, he wants to tell you that none of this was your fault and there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent it from happening. He wants to tell you he shouldn’t have ordered you back to the hotel, not without anyone accompanying you.

But as someone who has deep feelings for you, Aaron wants to say he was scared to death and thought he might lose another person he cares for. His anxiety skyrocketed through the roof when he saw what you had done to Scott and he wishes that you didn’t have to work through this trauma.

But he doesn’t say anything. You watch as he swallows and you know his brain is working overtime by how often he pulls his eyebrows together. You don’t have it in you to be angry at him like you were the night he sent you away. The sedatives, along with your exhaustion, leaves little room for anger.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say to break the silence.

“I can get something from the cafeteria,” he offers immediately, touching his pocket to make sure his wallet didn’t fall out.

“That would be nice.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t touched by the offer.

Aaron leaves for a short while and you try your best to process what just happened. He chose to stay with you overnight. He offered to buy you breakfast. You didn’t think Aaron would care for you like that.

He comes back a while later and apologizes for both the sandwich (that looks haphazardly made) and the time it took, as there was a long line. You thank him politely and eat the meal, and you’re grateful that you have anything to eat at all.

Aaron watches you and feels like he’s invading your personal time. He bought himself a fruit cup, knowing Dave would reprimand him for not eating if he were able to buy something.

“I shouldn’t have told you to go back,” Aaron says softly. You almost didn’t hear him say it. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. I did the wrong thing and it got you kidnapped.”

You don’t tell him that it’s okay, because quite frankly he’s right. He shouldn’t have sent you home, but you know it’s not his fault that you were abducted.

“It’s not your fault that Scott took me,” you say matter-of-factly. Aaron can sense what you’re trying to say and his eyes hang in shame. “But I’m alive. I’m going to have one hell of a transition back to work, but I’m alive. I’m here. That is, if I still have my job.”

Aaron’s eyes snap to you.

“The job is yours for however long you want it,” he says immediately, and he means it. “What you did was reckless but I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing.”

This makes you smile a little and Aaron soars when he sees it.

“I didn’t mean what I said back at the precinct either, Y/N. You’re a fantastic agent and we’re lucky to have you.”

There are a million things you want to ask him. Why have you been second guessing me? Is my work not satisfactory enough? Why did you stay in the hospital with me?

But you don’t. There are too many things you want to say to Aaron that it ends up turning into a frustrating mess every time you think of the right question to ask. Aaron doesn’t seem to notice your lack of conversation. Or if he does, you think he’s trying to fill the awkward silence like you are.

“I don’t mean to be a burden,” is what you settle on. “I don’t purposely challenge your authority or how the team operates. I know I haven’t been here as long as everyone else but I like to think I make enough contributions.”

“You do,” Aaron says. “You aren’t a burden.”

You don’t believe him. “I just…lately I feel like I've been getting in the way of things.”

“You haven’t.” Aaron means that honestly but you don’t pick up on it. “You’ve shown immense critical thinking and problem solving skills. This case alone has proven that.”

You don’t disagree with him, but your mind reverts back to Scott and you start to deflate.

Aaron knows he needs to apologize for how he’s been acting towards you. The abduction and his guilt is eating him alive and it forced him to be truthful with himself about how harsh he’s been treating you upon realizing he likes you more than a colleague should. But he doesn’t know whether this moment is appropriate or not. Ever the professional.

Both of you are saved by Dave showing up unannounced. He’s dressed casually too, with jeans and a sweater for an unusually cloudy day in Southern California. His knocking brings both you and Aaron out of your heads.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dave laments. He enters the room after you beckon him in and gives you a gentle hug on the side that doesn’t have your sling. “I won’t ask how you’re feeling because I’m sure you’re tired of that.”

“Thank you.”

“But I did want to check up on you,” Dave continues. “The rest of the team are slowly waking up, I imagine.” He turns to Aaron. “I assume we’re grounded here until Y/N can fly back.”

“That’s right,” Aaron says. “Tell the team they have the rest of the week off. I don’t think Strauss wants us spending more of our budget on flights.”

“Already done,” Dave says with a smile. “You had us worried for a while there.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, even though you know you have nothing to be sorry for. “I didn’t mean to make any of you worry about me.”

“We always worry about you, kid. It’s our job.”

“Are the girls okay?” you ask him.

“Safe and sound. That’s actually why I came to visit, other than to check up on you.”

You blink out of confusion.

“Jaqueline called the precinct and asked to speak with you,” Dave explains. “Long story short, she got in contact with me and wanted to know if you’d be willing to speak with her. She wants to thank you in person.”

The thought never crossed your mind. Saving her children had always been your first priority, even when Scott threatened to kill you if you didn’t help him. You’re not a mother by any means, but Jaqueline is around your age and you have plenty of nieces and nephews to get an understanding of how difficult this whole ordeal was for her.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to make sure Jaqueline would be okay.

“Absolutely,” you say immediately.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Aaron asks. “You just got to the hospital.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm, turning your attention back to Dave. “They can come visit me here if they’re willing to. I don’t think I have it in me to go to the precinct.”

“Of course,” Dave says with a small grin. It’s almost like he knows this will heal the both of you. He leaves the room and tells you he’ll be back later this afternoon.

Aaron sits in silence and he’s in awe of your resilience. He’s sure it’s the shock and sedatives talking, but he’s always known you to be someone who puts other people first.

“I should call Strauss and let her know the situation,” Aaron says. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, and you’re strangely reluctant to let him go. But you do anyway and he walks out of the hospital room, leaving you with your thoughts.

***

Dave lets you know Jaqueline is here with the girls a few hours later.

“Agent Y/L/N?” a voice says from beside you. The young mother knocks on the door as two children hide behind her legs. You beckon them inside, with Aaron and Emily supervising from beyond the threshold.

“Jaqueline,” you say, propping yourself up to seem more presentable. “Hi. It’s great to see you.”

“I’m sorry for barging in like this,” she apologizes, but you’re already waving her off when you see the two children emerge from behind her. “I wanted to thank you in person. For saving my kids.”

“It’s no problem,” you downplay.

But Jaqueline shakes her head and rushes to grab your hand. She pulls away when she thinks she’s crossed a line, but your grip is devastatingly tight when you squeeze hers. Jaqueline looks at you and tears slip from her eyes, and her children hug her legs like they know something’s wrong.

Jacqueline composes herself and brings Gracie and Olivia in front of her, who each have hand-decorated thank you cards made of colorful cardstock paper, stickers, and glitter. Your heart swells at the gesture and you will yourself not to alarm the family in front of you with your tears, so you promise yourself you’d cry when they leave.

“Hi, Munchkins,” you greet. “What’s all this?”

The girls shyly give you the cards, the eldest taking initiative to put them in your hands.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “Mommy says you were very brave and saved us.”

“We drew these last night!” the younger one exclaims. “Mommy let us stay up late because we couldn’t sleep, so we made these for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you compliment, looking at the colors below you. Jaqueline hasn’t let go of your hand. “You girls are very talented.”

“Thank you,” the young one says bashfully. “I hope you get better soon.”

Your heart swells and Jacqueline squeezes your hand again before letting go. You watch her lips flutter and as her children become preoccupied with their dresses, Jaqueline surprises you again.

“Would it be alright if I called you from time to time?” she asks. “To let you know how we’re doing. That we’re okay.” You reach for her one more time.

“I’d love that,” you say honestly.

Jaqueline doesn’t say another word, but the look of gratitude and her quivering lips is enough to make all the hurt from the past few days disappear.

You watch as they leave the room and as the young girls save goodbye. David escorts them to the front of the hospital, which leaves Aaron awkwardly standing in the threshold with his body leaning against the doorframe.

Aaron watches you. Your eyes glaze over and the cards in your hand are slipping through your fingertips, and your lips move as if you’re trying to find the right words to say. But nothing comes out. Aaron listens as your breathing becomes shallow and watches a stray tear slip from the corner of your eyes.

Before he can think, he rushes by your side and envelopes you in his arms.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, somewhere between wanting to give you enough space and wanting to pull you against him. Your fingers are tight on his forearms when he hears your labored breathing become erratic and as your tears soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

Aaron takes the liberty of moving you in front of him, his back against the pillows you were sleeping on. He looks at your frail body in front of him; you always carry yourself as a strong-willed, independent agent on the field, and now he sees that he mistook your brazen character as recklessness when it was false bravado.

His heart aches when your grip on him tightens. Aaron reaches out to move the cards to the side table and pulls you against his chest, thankful that this bed is barely enough to fit the both of you. Aaron notices your craned neck, bringing the hand that isn’t wrapped around your frail figure to your head and gently moves your head to his chest.

Your soft whimpers are enough to make Aaron’s heart break all over again.

“You’re an amazing person,” Aaron says. “You are selfless, caring, and generous.” His words compel you to cry even harder and Aaron lets you weep in his arms until your eyes are dry and you’re hiccuping.

Aaron doesn’t let you, not for a second, feel embarrassed about breaking down in front of him. His thumbs are drawing soothing circles on your arm and he’s wiping away your tears with a tissue, allowing you to unravel before him.

Your dry heaving doesn’t bother Aaron, but he coos into your ear and tells you he’s going to get you a bottle of water when you grip his arm. He pries your fingers off of him and melts when you snuggle your head closer to him, but he knows you’re thirsty and the best thing he can do for you is keep you healthy.

“I’ll be back in two minutes,” he promises. “I’m all yours after that.”

You nod reluctantly and let him go. The bed feels empty when he leaves and you feel pathetic for hanging onto him like he’s your lifeline, but you don’t care. You just want to be held.

True to his word, Aaron comes back a few minutes later and uncaps the bottle for you. A soft ‘up’ utters from his lips and you sit up straight. He brings the bottle to your lips and tilts your head back enough to let the water slide down your throat.

Aaron puts it aside when you’ve signaled that you’re done and slides into the spot next to you once again. He puts his arm around your shoulder and brings you to his chest again.

You don’t tell him, but you feel his heartbeat. It’s irrationally fast and you don’t know what to make of it. You tighten your hold on him as you start to fall asleep and you miss the way Aaron rocks you to sleep.

***

When it’s time for your discharge, you’re feeling better than you did a few days ago. The team welcomes you back on board once you’ve been cleared to fly and it feels like nothing’s out of place.

JJ bought a bunch of pastries from a local cafe and everyone (save for Aaron because he was with you the entire time) has written little messages on a decorated card. It’s Spencer who frets over you the most, bringing you cups of tea and asking if there’s anything he can do to ease your pain. You’re quite touched.

You know you’re in no shape to drive home when you land. Your dominant hand is broken and your car sits in its designated spot, no doubt gathering dust and debris. The team is tired from the trip and everyone checks in on you one by one before leaving, and you don’t know how you’ll get home until you realize your car keys are still in your desk drawer.

Aaron watches you for a moment. He notices your apprehensiveness and the way you look at your car keys, and he puts two and two together. Before he can register what he’s doing, Aaron’s making his way to you and offering to drive you. You start to tell him you don’t need a chauffeur and that he should go home instead, but he’s more worried that you might hurt yourself inadvertently. He persists and you reluctantly say yes because you know he’s right. You could barely open the door to the building, let alone drive home.

The car ride to your apartment is quiet, save for the sounds of cars passing by on the freeway and the sound of gravel underneath the tires. You look up at your apartment complex when you tell Aaron the code to get into your garage and he parks in the visor spot after you’ve directed him.

The sling on your arm is a nuisance and you already can’t wait to get it off. You’re able to unbuckle yourself with your free hand and you’re surprised that Aaron opens the door for you.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“It’s not a problem.” You can tell he means it.

When you get to your apartment, you’re somewhat surprised that you haven’t lost your keys. You struggle to put them into the lock correctly with your non-dominant hand and Aaron can see the quirk of your eyebrow and how you’ve bit your lip out of frustration.

He fears he’s overstepping. He takes the keys out of your hands gently and opens the door for you anyhow.

When you walk inside, you don’t think you've ever felt happier to see your small one bedroom apartment. Aaron sets your go-bag on the kitchen counter and you stand still for what seems like an eternity until he brings you out of your haze and encourages you to change out of your clothes and take a shower.

But you don’t move. You stand in the middle of your living room and stare blankly out of your window, unable to appreciate the breathtaking view of D.C. like you always do. Your throat feels dry and your feet feel like they’re permanently planted on the hardwood floor beneath you.

Aaron comes to stand beside you and he leaves distance between the both of you. He looks at the sight before him and makes a comment about how he’s jealous of your view, but not even that gets a reaction out of you.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you mumble after a long pause. “I-I can’t be by myself right now.”

Aaron knows Jack is at sleepaway camp for a school trip and doesn’t get back for another few days. He doesn’t have to think about keeping you company so you don’t feel alone.

“I can stay with you,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You turn to look at him and the offer is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Aaron sounds so soft, caring, and unlike himself. Your heart tugs at his caring nature and you’re overwhelmed with the notion that he’s caring for you like he cares for your colleagues.

“Please,” you croak.

Aaron nods. He puts his hands on your arms and ushers you into the hallway and you point him in the direction of your bedroom. He’s acutely aware that this is the first time he’s ever been in your apartment, let alone in the room you sleep in, and tries not to dwell on it for your sake.

“You should take a shower and sleep,” Aaron suggests. “It’ll help clear your head.”

You follow Aaron’s lead. He guides you to your dresser and you grab an extra change of clothes and he accompanies you to the bathroom next door.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?” he says. “Don’t be afraid to get me.”

“Okay,” you say meekly. Your voice is far too dry to speak normally.

Aaron closes the bathroom door and you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re sure you look like a mess, despite being taken care of in the hospital back in Los Angeles. But you feel sticky from the flight and the sudden change in temperature, and you want nothing more than to cleanse yourself of the memories from LA.

You remove the sling from your arm and try your hardest to take your clothes off but you find it exceptionally difficult with your arm being in a brace. It hurts to lift your arm and you nearly cry out of frustration and exhaustion when you realize you can’t take your shirt off by yourself.

Embarrassed, you contemplate on showering with your clothes on, but ultimately know you’d need to take them off anyway. You open the door and call for Aaron, and you hear his steps as soon as you do.

“Are you okay?” he asks when he realizes you’re still in your clothes.

“I can’t, um, take my clothes off,” you say, clearing your throat. “I can’t bend my right arm and my left one is extremely sore. I can’t take my fucking clothes off.”

Aaron isn’t offended by your defensiveness. He gathers that it’s your coping mechanism because you feel embarrassed, but Aaron doesn’t care. He doesn’t say anything but he nods like he knows what you’re going through and you have a suspicion that he might.

“I’ll close my eyes and take your clothes off for you,” Aaron says. He says it in a way that’s so sincere but it still makes your cheeks redden at the innuendo. Aaron tries to ignore it because he feels a blush coming.

“It’s so pathetic that I can’t do this by myself.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he reassures. “You have a broken arm and your body’s still in pain. Let me help you.”

You don’t say anything and Aaron takes it as a cue to move closer. True to his word, he puts his arms on your waist and turns his head away from you, careful to not hurt your broken arm. He maneuvers the fabric until it’s free from your body and he’s acutely aware that he’ll need to touch you in order to take the rest of your clothes off.

Aaron’s surprised when you move his hand to the button of your slacks. He clears his throat while you look up at the ceiling and bite your lip, pretending that the situation you’re in is completely normal to keep yourself from blushing too much. Aaron’s fingers work on the button and he’s careful not to put his hands where it’s inappropriate. He almost laughs at the thought, considering he’s your boss and he’s helping you take off your clothes.

You shimmy out of your slacks as Aaron slides it down your legs. He blushes at the thought of what’s to come next and swallows hard. Aaron returns to his stance and finds his neck is sore from craning, so he keeps his eyes closed and faces you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “I-I don’t think I can unclasp my bra.”

You wince at your words, but it’s true. You tried to reach behind you when Aaron worked on taking off your pants, but the ache in your shoulder was too much.

Aaron doesn’t say anything and you’re afraid that he might leave you. He’s so quiet that you can barely hear his breathing and you look at his closed eyes and see that his jaw is clenched. He mumbles and you’re barely able to catch it. Aaron lifts his hands to find your shoulders and you nearly shiver underneath his warm hands, despite the fact that your body might be just as hot.

Aaron reaches behind you and searches for your clasp. You can feel his fingers on your back as he feels for it and he’s incredibly aware that your gaze is on him. It takes all of his willpower not to open his eyes. He’s imagined undressing you before, but not like this. Aaron’s fingers find the clasp and he’s slow to undo it, afraid of tangling the metal.

You feel yourself free from its constraints and Aaron slowly moves his fingertips from your shoulders and down your arm. You comply the best you can with your sore arm and your broken one, and your breathing hitches.

Aaron ignores how fast his heart is beating when he hears your bra drop to the floor. His mind is in overdrive and he bends down again, his fingers immediately coming to your waist and gripping them with gentle care. You look down at him and your mouth is wide open with your jaw hanging when you realize he’s on his knees in front of you. Aaron’s fingers hook on the material of your underwear, but you can’t bear to see him take them off.

“Wait,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily.

Aaron forces himself to keep his eyes closed and he can hear your shallow breathing. His fingers are wrapped around the fabric of your underwear and suddenly he’s aware that it’s an intimate piece of clothing. Aaron’s cheeks redden and he’s desperately hoping you don’t notice.

“I can do it,” you say. Your voice wavers and you aren’t sure that you won’t be in pain when you take them off, but seeing Aaron on his knees with his hands practically down your underwear is too much for you at this moment.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, clearing his throat. His fingers detach themselves and he abruptly stands up. Aaron keeps his eyes closed still.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, and you mean it. “I really appreciate you helping me out…I’m sure this has crossed a lot of boundaries.”

Aaron wants to tell you he doesn’t mind it one bit, but he holds his tongue to refrain from making you uncomfortable. His eyes feel heavy and he stumbles when he stands up but catches himself when he feels the doorknob behind him.

“Like I said, I’m here if you need anything.”

Aaron stands still for a moment and it feels like the both of you had the air knocked out of your lungs. He doesn’t want to overstep or make it seem like he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable state, so he exits the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You lock it immediately and pin yourself against the door. Your heartbeat is irrational and you turn the water on, fixing it to your desired temperature. Bending to take your underwear hurts and your shoulders feel like they’re about to pop off, but you manage.

You’re acutely aware that Aaron’s in your living room, no doubt trying to rid himself of the awkwardness. You aren’t sure if you’re grateful at what transpired because while it’s enough to help you forget about Los Angeles, it makes your cheeks flare into a hot mess and you feel uncomfortably turned on.

Aaron, too, feels the same way. He feels filthy sitting on your couch and results in pacing around the room. His shoes are discarded by the door and it feels all too domestic. Aaron’s tie is suddenly too tight so he tugs on the knot to loosen it. He rids himself of his suit jacket and places it neatly on the arm of the couch, and thinks about anything but you, naked in the shower. His slacks feel a little too tight, so he takes out his phone to check his email. It works for a while,

A while later, Aaron realizes you’ve walked out of the bathroom and you’ve managed to change without his assistance. You comment about how the shower loosened your muscles and you were able to get your clothes in relatively painlessly, but all he can think about is how cute you look in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.

He’s too preoccupied admiring how undone you look because it’s the complete opposite from how he sees you at work. In Quantico, you’re somewhat put together, always wearing appropriate office attire and taking your caseload with grace while the rest of the team complains to no end about the amount of paperwork that needs to be filed.

Now, you’re standing in front of him with wet hair and an old shirt that has lost some lettering. It’s domestic and Aaron loves it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about offering you the bathroom,” you say timidly.

It’s nerve wracking for you to be in Aaron’s presence because of what happened a few moments ago and because you’re not sure why he’s been so nice to you. It’s fresh and strange at the same time, as you’re used to him looking over your shoulder.

But you don’t feel like he’s being domineering.

“I’ve got a few shirts that might be your size,” you announce. “And a bunch of sweatpants too.”

Aaron’s heart flutters at how welcoming you are considering all that happened to you, but he’s also found himself standing with jealousy when you mention that you have men’s clothing. Are you dating someone? Does he know he’s there?

“I love thrifting and sleeping in big shirts,” you explain, overcompensating for how awkward you feel to be standing in front of your boss looking like a disheveled mess. “I tend to thrift for clothes in the men's section because you guys have really good clothes for dirt cheap.”

Aaron’s worries are quelled and he doesn’t know why he feels so relieved to know you aren’t seeing anyone.

“That would be great,” Aaron says.

You nearly skip to your room and huff at your awkward demeanor, pulling out a large shirt from your dresser and a pair of sweatpants you hope is big enough. When you walk back to the living room, Aaron is still standing in the same spot and you’re somewhat touched that he’s nervous to be in your apartment.

“You can change in the bathroom,” you instruct. “Take as long as you need. There’s an extra toothbrush on the counter and a towel on the rack.”

Grateful, Aaron scurries into the bathroom and you walk away before you can think of imagining him getting undressed. Instead, you busy yourself by fetching extra blankets and pillows for him. There’s an extra thick blanket in your closet and you pull two pillows from your bed, unsure if Aaron’s the type of guy to care about his pillow count. You find yourself stumped for a moment, each hand two with pillows as you debate on how many to give him, before you realize how idiotic you must seem if someone were to take a peek inside your head.

You settle with two pillows.

You’re fixing a cup of tea for the both of you when Aaron walks out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. You know he likes to drink chamomile tea on the plane when you’re coming back from a case late at night. You’ve seen him make it a million times. It feels weird to be making him a cup, but you figure it’s the least you could do after he helped you change out of your clothes.

“I made you tea,” you say lamely, setting the cup down on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. Aaron walks towards you and he feels the hardfloor beneath him and how hot the mug is when he touches it. Thinking about this distracts him from your broken arm and the swell of guilt he has in his chest.

“Thank you,” Aaron says.

“I put in a little bit of honey. I hope it’s not too much.”

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “How’d you know I liked honey in my tea?”

“You drink it a lot on the plane,” you explain. “I see you make it a lot. You always scold Spencer every time he puts too much of it in.”

He can’t help but smile, but he hides it behind the cup.

Neither of you say anything. You don’t know what more you can say. The words cause you to choke every time you think about what happened back in Los Angeles. Realistically, you know there’s no way Scott can hurt you anymore, but it doesn’t stop you from panicking at the thought of being alone in your apartment.

But you look at Aaron, who’s looking at you, and you’re able to let your guard down for a little while.

“Thank you,” you muster. “For taking care of me back at the hospital and back at the barn. It…it meant a lot that you stayed.”

“Of course,” he says a little too quickly. “You’re a member of this team and your safety is my top priority.”

Your gaze drops to the floor. You aren’t sure what you were expecting. An apology? A confession? Truthfully, you don’t know what you want to hear from Aaron but it hurts knowing that he views you as just another colleague.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t made you feel that way in a long time,” Aaron starts when he realizes you’ve grown quiet. “A member of the team, I mean.”

“I-I just felt like I should’ve been doing more,” you confess.

“You’re doing everything right, Y/N. You’re an exceptional agent and an outstanding person. Any part of the bureau would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah?” you ask quietly.

“Absolutely.” Aaron means in.

You finish your tea and it all becomes too much for you. The pain of your arm is quelled by the medication your doctor prescribed and Aaron helps you open the bottle. It makes you feel silly that you need someone else’s help to do something so simple and you feel your frustration get the better of you.

“I’ll be out here if you need anything, okay?” Aaron reassures. “Please don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

“I promise,” you say and it’s one you’re planning on keeping.

You close the door behind you and turn off the lights. It feels weird to be in your apartment because you feel like everything should be back to normal, but it isn’t. In your years with the BAU, nothing as serious as this kidnapping has ever happened to you. You’ve been trained to deal with kidnappings before and how to talk to the victims and to the survivors, but you’ve never thought you’d have to deal with the aftermath yourself.

You can’t sleep on your side because of your cast and your body feels like it’s constantly being run over by a stampede. The soft mattress is a contrast of how stiff your body feels and it all feels like it’s too much.

Aaron can’t sleep either. He’s been staring at the door for the past thirty minutes as he tries to fall asleep. His phone is plugged into the wall behind him and he checks in with Dave, who texted him as he drove you back to your apartment. Aaron briefly thinks about Jack and his heart softens for a moment, but then he hears your soft cries from the room.

Aaron lies completely still and hears your whimpers. He hears you sniffle, blow your nose twice, and he’s acutely aware of the fact that he has no idea what to do. He has half a mind of barging into your room to comfort you until you’re asleep, but he doesn’t want to overstep his welcome more than he already has. Aaron feels frozen on the couch and doesn’t know if you’re too nervous to ask him for comfort.

He’s surprised when you walk outside. You don’t turn the lights on and he can barely make your face when you step into the moonlight. But you look frail, broken, and like you’ve been tormented by your memories. Aaron hates that.

“Aaron?” you call out. Your voice is small and his heart cracks. “Can you keep me company?”

Aaron doesn’t need to be told twice.

He lifts the blankets from his legs and follows you into the bedroom. You sit on the edge of the bed and sniffle. Aaron sits next to you and carefully puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

It’s comforting and it aches. The pain of trauma and knowing that your life will never be the same again makes it seem like you’re never going to recover. Aaron doesn’t say anything, letting you cry into his shoulder and ignores the way your tear stains have soaked through the fabric.

He’s imagined being in your apartment before; he often wonders what your decor looks like and how often you spend time here. He’s imagined cooking breakfast for you before you wake up, making you cups of your favorite tea, making the bed after you’ve both woken up, and kissing you goodbye when you walk out the door. Being in your bedroom like this feels too intimate, but if he was being honest with himself, Aaron doesn’t really mind it. He likes that he’s the person you choose to lean on. He feels like this is the first step in holding himself accountable for how he’s treated you in the past.

Your shoulders are shaking and Aaron does everything he can think of to coax you through your sadness. He whispers praise and allows you to cry when you keep apologizing for your behavior, and he keeps telling you that he’s not going anywhere.

When you manage to calm down, you’re tired. Aaron lets you climb underneath the covers and tucks the blanket under your chin. His hand brushes your skin and he blushes, though he’s sure you can’t tell because of how dark it is. Aaron bids you goodnight and starts to walk back to the living room but you reach out for his hand before he gets the chance to leave. He turns around and feels your soft grip on him.

“Could you sleep with me?” you ask. “Or at least stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” Aaron says. He throws all caution in the wind and starts to walk to the other side of the bed and he’s surprised when you open the covers for him.

Your mattress is soft and your blankets smell like you. He tries not to think about it and leaves space between the both of you.

“Did you know I joined the BAU because of you?” you ask in the darkness.

“What?” Aaron says of shock.

You laugh lamely. “You guys held a few seminars at my alma mater and I knew then what I wanted to do with my life. I applied to the academy the next fall.”

Aaron doesn’t know what to say. His cheeks are hot and you’ve rendered him utterly speechless. In your tired state, you push yourself as comfortably as you can until the back of your head is leaning on Aaron’s chest, mindful of your broken arm.

Aaron’s stunned and his body stiffens. But he thinks of all the times he’s thought about laying beside you like this and decides that he’ll cherish it as much as he can. His arm snakes itself underneath you as he tugs you closer, and he whispers a soft goodnight.

***

D.C. is a little cloudy when you wake up. The light peeks through your blinds and you’re made aware of the man sleeping beside you when you realize your face is buried in his chest. Your good arm is beneath you while the other is on top of the blanket. Aaron’s arms are encircled around you and when you feel his warmth.

You don’t rush to wake him up. Being here with him somehow feels right despite the part of your brain telling you he’s your boss and nothing more. But Aaron wouldn’t stay with you if he didn’t want to, right?

Part of you thinks he’s doing it just because he feels guilty. You know that there’s some truth to that, but you wonder if it’s the only reason he elected to take care of you. But you decide it’s too early to think about this. Instead, you close your eyes and bask in Aaron’s warmth, and fall asleep again.

This time, Aaron wakes you up twenty minutes after you fall back asleep. His arms are numb from your weight and he feels like he might try to kiss you if he doesn’t wake you up.

Your eyes flutter open and you bury your head in his neck. Aaron doesn’t bring himself to push you off of him. He pulls you against him and the both of you lay in silence for what feels like an eternity.

Eventually, Aaron has to leave because Jack’s coming home from a sleep away camping trip. He apologizes a thousand times over because he knows he said he wasn’t going anywhere, but you tell him that Jack is more important. An unrecognizable expression flashes across his face before he’s out the door, promising you that he’ll call to check in once Jack’s home.

And he does. Aaron calls you a few hours later when Jack’s in the shower and asks you how you’re feeling, if you’ve taken your medication, and if he needs to do anything for you. You decline for his help despite desperately wanting him back in your apartment.

When night falls, Aaron lets Jack stay up an hour later than usual. They’re watching cartoons from the nineties when Aaron gets a sudden idea. He pauses the television and turns to Jack.

“Do you remember Y/N?” Aaron asks his son.

“Of course I do,” Jack says. “She’s the one who buys me snacks when I come to visit you.”

“That’s right, buddy.” Truthfully, Aaron didn’t know you’ve continuously done that for Jack. But he rolls with it.

“Is she okay?”

Aaron knows Jack can tell something’s up.

“Not really,” Aaron replies honestly. “She got hurt real bad in our last case and broke her arm.”

Jack opens his mouth in surprise. “Oh no. Do you think she’ll get better soon?”

“I hope so. She needs a lot of help right now because she lives alone.”

“Well she can stay with us until her arm is better,” Jack says as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. Aaron can’t help but smile through his shock.

“I’ve gotta ask her first, but I think that’s a great idea. That’s actually what I wanted to ask you.”

“It’ll be fun!” Jack exclaims. “Me and Y/N can watch cartoons while you’re at work and she can help me with my homework. She’s nice like that.”

“Yes she is,” Aaron says, nodding.

“Do you think I should make her a card so she feels welcomed in our home? I think I have leftover paper and glitter. Girls love glitter.”

“Y/N would love that. I’m going to talk to her first and if she agrees to stay over, you can make her a card.”

“Yay! This is gonna be the best sleepover ever.”

Aaron’s ecstatic that Jack’s receptive to the idea. He calls you the next morning and proposes the idea of staying at his place until your cast comes off. When you lament how long that’ll be from now, he insists and tells you Jack was the one who came up with the idea.

You can’t say no to Jack.

Aaron helps you gather belongings from your apartment and tells you that he’ll drive you back here or pick you up any time you want or need to. You double check that you’ve packed enough clothes for a week.

It’s a gradual and awkward start. You feel out of place as you try to navigate his apartment and where he keeps everything, not wanting to feel like you’re already welcomed in his home. But Aaron keeps reminding you that his home is your home and you don’t need permission since you’ll be here for a while.

Jack is sweet, too. He helps you by telling you where everything is stored and goes so far as to hold your hand while doing so. He insisted on tucking you in while you slept in the guest bedroom just to make sure you were comfortable on your first night, and you thought you might start crying in front of him.

At first, you walk on eggshells. You tiptoe around the boys and feel like a burden when Aaron brings home dinner for three or when he buys extra groceries, especially when he refuses to let you chip in. Jack tries to ease your worries after sensing your discomfort by asking you to build legos with him and you do your best despite the pain in your arms.

Aaron reminds you of your medication (and in turn, Jack asks you if you’ve taken your pills), cooks your favorite comfort meals, and drives you to mandated therapy sessions whenever he has the time. It warms your heart at how helpful he’s been since you know how busy he is typically, and you’re not sure what to make of your emotions.

Time passes by and suddenly staying with Aaron feels somewhat normal. You’re off of work until your arm is healed and you’ve seen your therapist a number of times, and you know you have a couple of months of doing whatever you want until you go back into the field. Against the advice of Strauss, you continue to help with cases and the paperwork load so Aaron can spend more time with Jack.

Gradually, you start to feel comfortable when you’re alone. You use his kitchen, clean his dishes, and busy yourself with tidying Jack’s messes. You explore his neighborhood and have found a few cafes and restaurants you’d like to try out. You feel more comfortable lounging on his couch instead of keeping yourself in the guest bedroom.

It feels domestic and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing. There’s still so much left unsaid, including how you’ve felt being his subordinate prior to your abduction. Aaron’s apologized over and over again, has given you time to heal from it and chooses not to ask for forgiveness in lieu of letting you find it yourself. It means a lot. Deep down, you know Aaron isn’t a bad person. You just wish you knew why you were different.

A week turns into two, then into three, and soon enough you find yourself caring after Jack. You feel useless if you sleep in and start waking up early to make breakfast as best you can for everyone (limited to cold breakfasts until you start to feel confident using your dominant arm when it’s out of the sling). Aaron walks into the kitchen to see you making oatmeal one day and you’re worried that you’ve overstepped, but he thanks you profusely.

Jack waddles in and he takes the oatmeal without question and asks if you can put brown sugar and fruit in it. You look around and see apples and blueberries, and Jack chooses the blueberries. He watches as you fix him a bowl and eats his breakfast in silence.

It becomes a routine for you after growing tired of doing nothing all day. Helping Aaron’s around the house as best you can, working remotely on cases, and spending time in his neighborhood feels like you’re recording.

Jessica, Jack’s aunt, has been informed of your stay by Aaron. You’ve met her before in passing but have never spoken to her in depth before staying with Aaron. She picks him up and drops him off, making small talk with you about her life and about your work. It goes so far as coffee dates when she’s available and it feels like your life is getting back on track.

Meanwhile, Aaron realizes he’s bit off more than he can chew when he sees you every morning. He hears your morning voice and finds himself wanting to wake up to it every day. He sees the way you are with Jack, how thoughtful and helpful you’ve been, and thinks it’s where you belong.

And it hurts. It hurts to know that all of his suppressed feelings are suddenly coming to the surface.

Your cast is coming off later today and you’re due for another mandated therapy session and a psychological evaluation before you’re able to return to work. He’s elated, but that means you’re okay to return to your apartment and he’ll have to get used to the house being empty.

Aaron’s parked his car at Quantico and he glances at you in the passenger seat. Your arm sling and cast are gone and you look as good as new, but he’s reluctant to step out of the car. You look back at him, hands fiddling in your lap.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you begin. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Jack.”

“You’d be just fine,” Aaron assures. “But it was nice seeing you recover. Is your arm doing okay?”

“It’s like I never had a broken arm.” You flex it in front of him for emphasis. “My shoulder’s still a bit sore but I think my physical therapist has expedited the healing process.”

Aaron smiles. “Good. I’m glad.”

A brief moment of silence falls between the two of you before you both get out of the car. Your therapist had asked you whether or not you were ready to integrate yourself back with the team and was scheduled to supervise your initial day back in the office. You’re apprehensive, however, because you know that you never perform well if you’re being watched closely.

JJ’s the first to greet you when you walk through the doors. The office smells the same and it looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same. You spend a few extra seconds embracing JJ and gather that she needs this hug more than you do.

Everyone files in and it’s barely eight in the morning. David congratulates you on recovery, Derek and Penelope bombard you with jokes that make your stomach hurt, Emily shows you photos of Sergio upon your request, and Spencer gives you a side hug and tells you he’s glad you’re doing better.

The therapist arrives soon after and you’re on your best behavior without making it seem like you’re trying to be.

In the end, she permits you to return back to the BAU with the promise of continuing therapy. She refers to you to a few others and tells you that you should try to go in at least once a week, or however frequently your job lets you. You’re clear to fly, yield your gun, and you’re reinstated as a profiler with the BAU.

Aaron drives you back to his place to pick up your belongings before he drives you back to your apartment. He and Dave had been kind enough to drive your car back to your place, where it’s been sitting untouched.

The ride is filled with music from the eighties and you’re so elated from your first day back at work that you don’t mind singing in front of Aaron and pretending you’re shredding on an electric guitar. He takes his time getting home, taking the long way instead of the direct route, and he doesn’t think you notice. Aaron hopes you don’t.

But he arrives at his place and Jessica’s greeting you at the front door, happy to see you’ve recovered before she goes home. The sun has barely set and Jack walks out behind his aunt, asking you what’s for dinner.

You’re stunned for a moment as the realization that this all ends tonight. Staying with Aaron, falling into a life of balancing work and domesticity comes to an end when he drops you off at your apartment. Jack’s tugging on your elbow and Aaron scolds him because you might still be in a little bit of pain. He apologizes sweetly.

Aaron beckons you inside where you've started to pack your belongings. The luggage you've brought seems smaller than when you brought it, as you find it difficult to pack everything. You make the bed and set the room as you found it (to the best of your recollection), and you’re ready to put your shoes on when Aaron rounds the corner.

“I was thinking we could have one last meal here.” He clears his throat. “To celebrate your recovery.”

You don’t hesitate. “I would love that. I finally get to show you my cooking skills.”

Aaron smiles and Jack runs to your legs, beckoning you to the kitchen. You settle on making oven baked chicken with mashed potatoes and honey glazed carrots, all of which Aaron had in his refrigerator. Jack asks how he can help and you’re touched when he brings a stool to perch on, and you tell him he can help you by rinsing the potatoes.

Aaron offers to help and you look at him with a silly grin, letting him prepare the carrots while you prepare everything else. Halfway through the process, Jack becomes somewhat irritable because of hunger and because the entire kitchen smells like a Thanksgiving feast. But he relents and waits for the meal to be done when you tell him the food always tastes better when it’s cooked longer.

You almost forget it’s your last time with Aaron and Jack when you eat your meal together. You forget it when Jack insists on ice cream for dessert and when Aaron makes you a cup of tea just the way you like it. You forget about it until Jack asks his father if he can be there when he drops you off at your apartment.

Your heart breaks a little. Aaron agrees and lets you grab your belongings while he buckles Jack in the car. Your luggage is in the trunk by the time Aaron is done and he opens the passenger door for you before getting in the car himself. Jack talks the entire ride, thanking you for dinner and lamenting how much he loved spending time with you. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is tight and he doesn’t think his heart could swell any bigger.

Eventually, the boys walk you up to your floor and Jack lunges at your abdomen after the three of you have walked into your living room.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Jack mumbles in your sweater.

“You’ll see her around, buddy. She’s not leaving the team,” says Aaron.

“But I’ll miss Y/N at home. I like spending time with her there.”

You and Aaron share a look. You can’t tell what he’s thinking but you know you’re unable to control the influx of emotions that will eventually spill out of you when they leave.

“Me too,” Aaron says quietly.

They leave soon after that.

You spend an hour crying in your living room and you haven’t unpacked your suitcase. Living with Aaron and being so close to him made you realize how your feelings for him, albeit complicated, have always been there.

You love him. You love his generous nature. You love the adoration he has for Jack and for his team. You love how he knows your beverages of choice and how gentle he’s been with you. You love the way he says your name and you love that you feel right at home with him.

It’s ten o’clock when you grab your phone and you know Jack’s been asleep for at least an hour. You dial Aaron’s contact and in your anxious state of mind, nearly regret your actions. But he picks up and you hear the sweet melody of his voice through the phone. Your voice falters at first, but you push through them anyway. You’re sure Aaron can hear your voice post-crying because of how raspy your voice is, but you don’t care.

You tell him you think you love him and it’s not because he’s been taking care of you. You pour your heart and soul into this speech and you panic when he doesn’t say anything.

“This’ll be one hell of a story we tell Strauss.”

And you laugh. You laugh because you know Aaron feels the same and you laugh because facing paperwork and recounting this conversation to Strauss doesn’t seem like the most frightening thing in the world anymore.

But just for good measure, Aaron tells you he loves you too.

***

AAAND WE’RE DONE X

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