#rorabbit

You met Aaron Hotchner in the middle of a particularly cold November. A ridiculous coincidence, really. You’d heard of him, even sent in a recent application to work for his team, though had some doubts you’d ever hear back. The BAU was a tough, tight-knit group. And even though you were working a case, you wondered if this might make the entirely wrong impression.

You worked for the FBI, in the Human Trafficking division. You’d been undercover for a little over two months, posing as a young grad student with a shady second job at a club. You weren’t a stripper, but you were dressed in a black latex bunny girl suit, complete with faux sleeve cuffs, a ribbon tied in a bow at your hip, a collar, a set of ears, and a fluffy white tail. Your job description, according to your boss, was a waitress. And you weren’t the only undercover agent at the club.

It had been a strange hotbed of criminal activity. Clearly enough so that the FBI had to show up for one reason or another. The outfit was too tight to conceal a proper weapon, all you had on you was a wire and a knife. You had to rely a lot on the others staking out the club, and you noticed one of them had just gotten distracted despite one of your targets acting quite shifty in the corner. This particular target you despised the most. You could tell something was very off about him, and as you were fed details of the case and studied the frequent customers at the bar, you were quite sure it was him. The guy wasn’t a seller, but you were quite sure he was buying. The girls he bought never showed up again.

That was when you noticed Aaron Hotchner enter the club with two other members of the BAU. Your eyes flickered between them and your target. They weren’t looking at him. They made the same mistake you initially made, focusing on the wrong guy. You’d spent enough time working the case to know, but your superior had never mentioned the BAU involving themselves in this particular case. 

Taking a deep breath and plastering on your customer service smile, you walked over to Agent Hotchner holding the tray of champagne glasses.

“First time here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side as you offered them drinks.

One of the other agents, a very muscular-looking black man, answered for the three of them. “Yeah, mind if we ask you a few questions?”

You smiled. “Of course. How may I assist you?” You batted your lashes, unwilling to give up your ruse even in the presence of other federal agents. You’d worked too hard for this.

“Are there any men that frequent this club, ones that you and the other workers know to stay away from?” 

“Most of the repeat customers are, surprisingly, not too bad. But there’s a few lingering around that the workers know to be careful of.” You watched your target from the corner of your eye, making sure not to look too long to tip anyone off. You watched him eye a girl who’s friend had just left to go to the bathroom. “I can point out a few, but I think you can usually tell just by looking at them,” you shrugged, putting a hand on your barely concealed hip. You carefully caught the eye of the man you were speaking to and pointedly glanced to the corner where the most suspicious regulars tended to gather. 

“That’s all, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

You smiled at the three of them, watching closely as they moved toward the wrong man. Just your luck, your target stood up at the same time as the other guy did, and they both went in opposite directions.

Attempting to casually wade through the busy crowd, you couldn’t seem to catch the eye of your undercover partner, but you saw the target talk to the girl sitting alone before luring her towards the back. Quickly, you managed to pass the tray to another worker before looking back, catching agent Hotchner staring at you. You wished there was a way to signal that you could use his help, but you didn’t know him. Instead, you mouthed the words “wrong guy” to him across the crowded floor, music blaring in your ears as you quickly turned and tried to quietly follow the man through the back of the club. 

That night, you had managed to not only get a recording of the man talking to your “boss” about their second business, but also witnessed him inject the girl in the backroom with a tranquilizer. After finally retrieving your handcuffs and pistol from your partner, you both managed to tackle and arrest the two men, and requested backup to gather evidence at the club and pick up the handcuffed men.

It must have been a ridiculous sight, you in a bunny girl costume with your gun now holstered to your hip once more, holding the handcuffed arms of a criminal behind his back in a cold dark alley. When you finally got them loaded into the cars, you turned to see Aaron Hotchner watching you. 

“Hello again,” you greeted a bit nervously, no longer playing a character and now just an FBI agent standing in hardly any clothes in front of a higher-ranking agent. “I’m Agent y/l/n, FBI, Human Trafficking division,” you held your hand out. 

He shook it. “Agent Aaron Hotchner. Unit Chief of the BAU. You tried to warn me back there,” he commented, taking off his own jacket and coming closer to offer it to you. You gave him an unsure look, and he returned it with an insistent one. 

“Thank you, sir. And yes, but it’s hard to do much of that in a busy nightclub,” you shrugged, putting the jacket over yourself and finally getting both relief from the cold and from the embarrassment of showing so much leg and cleavage in front of the man you really wanted to work under. For! Work for. Although, he was quite tall. And quite handsome.

“Still. You did a good job. It seemed like you caught something we didn’t. How could you tell we were looking into the wrong guy?”

“I’ve been working on this case for over two months. At first, I had the same assumption. But something from the profile was missing. I watched them both, and eventually came to the conclusion that I got it wrong the first time.”

“What I’m really asking is how you knew who we were going in there for.”

“Oh, I just watched you. I knew when you came in. He was the first guy your gaze really stuck on.” 

His expression showed the slightest hint of amusement. “Are you interested in a job?”

You smiled. “Very much so.”

“Send me your resume.”

“It’s already submitted for the open position, sir.”

He nodded, giving you a strange look.

“I expect I’ll see you again soon, then,” and he started to walk away.

“Wait, your jacket!”

“You can return it later. At your interview.”

That night was almost two years ago. The two of you had been a nearly inseparable pair ever since. You knew how to read him across a room, and he knew how to read you. You figured that was why he always had you with him. 

Just two months in, he told you he might be leaving the BAU after getting suspended for two weeks. His wife didn’t want him to work anymore. Said that his job isn’t who he is, just what he does.

You seemed to shock him by looking at him like you always did when the two of you spoke. As if the entire thing was obvious.

“I don’t think she can possibly understand how much we care about what we do. How what we do is who we are, and we know not everyone can do it. You’re one of the best, Hotch. You can be a good father and a good agent. Unfortunately, whether you can be a good husband and a good agent? That is an opinion left up to your wife. Her definition is what really matters, not yours.” 

You’d stood up from the chair across from his desk then, trying to hide the distress at the possibility of rarely seeing and never working with him again.

“I.. The team” you quickly corrected yourself, “doesn’t want you to leave. But I think what matters the most is what you want, Hotch. You only get one life. This is your career. This is the path you chose.” You took a deep breath. “Don’t let her choose for you, but you can choose her. We would all understand.”

He stayed. And your relationship had slowly taken a much more tense and strange turn. You were in-sync. Knew each other too well. Your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you. You both noticed the lingering looks, but never said a thing about it. You did everything you always do, together. Especially since his divorce. You shared rooms, meals, notes, just about everything. Your leg was always slightly pressed against his when sitting next to him. His arm was often placed behind you when the two of you were walking somewhere in an unknown environment. Close. You were close.

Yet your relationship had never crossed the line. The meals were usually take out, the rooms had two beds, the time spent together was all under the guise of “work.” Just work. 

And nearly two years since that first fateful night that you met Aaron Hotchner, you were back in the stupid bunny suit.

It was all Derek’s fault, you were convinced. It was his idea, and Emily, Penelope, and Derek all thought it would be funny to put you back in the costume that started it all.

You had to go undercover at a club during a Halloween party. This unsub was a freak, and everyone dressed in costumes certainly didn’t ease your nerves about the whole thing.

Crossing your arms with a huff as you exited the bathroom at the local precinct, you glared at Derek who had picked out the costume. Spencer turned around from whatever he was working on and nearly spit out his water and started coughing.

“Is this necessary? I can’t even carry a gun on me…”

“You wore it undercover before. Come on, Bunny!” You frowned at the use of your nickname. The one you got from the night you first met Derek, Hotch, and Rossi.  “I thought you’d be comfortable in a familiar outfit,” he teased. “Besides, we need you to fit the victimology. Young attractive girls having fun at parties.” While this would certainly be considered harassment in any other unit with any other team, you adored Derek. You couldn’t help but smirk a little bit at his comment.

“You’re such a jerk,” you said unseriously. “Besides, I was pretending to be a worker back then. I couldn’t say no to my boss. You, however, aren’t my boss.”

It was then that Emily and Hotch came into the room, and Emily’s jaw dropped.

“Why do you look so hot!” she exclaimed, dramatically setting the files down on the table in front of her.

“This is the outfit Derek picked for me,” you sighed. “Look familiar?” You did a dramatic turn in front of them, trying to keep your eyes off of Hotch in embarrassment.

“I could never forget,” Hotch shook his head, clearly amused, but he looked tense. You narrowed your eyes at him a bit. 

“I’ll wear it for old times sake, and because I know you guys will actually cover me.”

Derek, Hotch, and Emily went with you to the club. You were in Chicago, and Derek warned you that the parties could get a bit wild. Sitting in the back of the SUV, you couldn’t help but ask. “So, where’s your costumes?”

“Men in Black,” Hotch replied as though it were obvious.

Derek turned to look at you in the back, and pulled a cat ears headband out of nowhere, putting it on his head.

“We match.”

You all entered the club separately, and it wasn’t long until you were trying to fend people off left and right. It was getting difficult, as well. You hadn’t been in a relationship in a long time, and the lack of attention was getting to you. Well, at the very least, this evening showed you that you could still pull off the bunny suit. 

You were being hit on by a very attractive older man, and nearly giving in to his flirting, until something caught your eye. Someone that matched the description of the unsub. You snapped back into reality. Watching the man closely as he moved through the crowd. You apologized to the older man before moving to follow, also trying to find where Hotch and Derek might be, but you couldn’t see them. Despite your heart pounding in your chest, you managed to strike up a conversation with the unsub at the bar. You played the innocent young girl as much as possible, while trying to not seem too conveniently naive. Your goal was now to try and get him out of the club, away from other people. He was more than likely carrying a gun on him, and you knew whatever you were doing was dangerous.

Yet as he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere quieter, feigning that he couldn’t hear what you were saying, you agreed, hoping to appeal to his ego and not raise any alarm. You turned back to the busy club, eyes desperately searching for someone familiar, and you found him. He was up on the second floor, looking right at you. This time, he recognized the look you were giving him, his grip on the railing tightened and he shook his head, discouraging whatever the hell you thought you were about to do. And you didn’t listen. 

“You knew better than to go off and do that,” he scolded harshly, his anger seeping off of him and you felt yourself flinch. It was later that night. After the unsub attacked you in an alley not far from the club, you had managed to take him down without any assistance before Hotch and Derek made it to where you were. This was made much easier by the alcohol you had encouraged him to drink while speaking with him at the bar…

“And what the hell did you think you were doing, flirting ON THE JOB?” his voice rose and filled the hotel room the two of you shared.

“With the unsub?” You asked incredulously. “You asked me to go undercover! I got the guy! We had evidence, he’s in custody! Why are we arguing over this? It doesn’t even matter.”

This had been going on for five minutes already, starting since he shut the door to your shared hotel room. You hadn’t even changed out of the stupid costume as you sat perched on the corner of your bed with your arms crossed. The only part you had taken off were the stupid ears, now left on the nightstand.

“Not with the unsub, you were talking to someone else before. I saw you. What were you thinking?!” 

“I don’t know, maybe that I haven’t been on so much as a date since I started working for the BAU? I got the job done, I don’t know why you’re so mad because I talked to someone who was interested in me for less than a minute!”

“You can’t take going undercover as an opportunity to inflate your ego because you’re lonely.”

You stood up then, in complete shock at the words coming out of his mouth. You didn’t even look him in the eye.

“That was low,” you murmured, suddenly moving around the room to throw your belongings back into your bag.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving.”

“Y/n, wait. Listen to me-”

“No!” you stopped him as he tried to approach you. “Just because you think you know me doesn’t mean you get to throw it in my face. That’s fucking low. I have given up so much for this job, so much for you.”

“I never asked you to give up anything for me.” You zipped your bag and looked up at him. “And I don’t think I know you. I do know you. And if you want me to stop, tell me and I will, but I don’t think you’ll need to.”

“What do you think you’re-“ the end of your sentence broke off in a small yelp as he approached you and quickly had you bent over his lap as he sat on the edge of your bed, delivering a harsh slap to your ass. 

You let out a moan at the sensation, unable to bite it back because of how much he had surprised you.

“Are you familiar with the color system?”

You were reeling from shock, but nodded your head. 

“Words, y/n. I need you to understand how to use it if you want to.”

“Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green is all good.”

“Yes. Color?”

“Green,” you responded readily.

 He kept talking, and kept spanking your ass harshly as he did so.

“Do you have any idea,” slap “how many times I’ve thought about doing this to you?” slap “Even the first god damn time I saw you in this ridiculous outfit,” slap “looking like such a little whore,” slap “I wanted to bend you over my lap just like this. You certainly misbehave enough to deserve it.” 

Your legs were squeezing together as you let out broken moans at the sensation of his large hand spanking you over and over, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second when he suddenly grabbed your face and made you look at him, craning your neck from where you were placed on his lap.

“Is this what you wanted?” You nodded, looking into his eyes. “Say it.”

“Yes, sir,” you managed. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Get on your knees.”

He released you and you slid off of him and onto the floor, kneeling in front of where he sat on the edge of the bed. 

You bit your lip as you tried not to squirm on the floor, waiting for him to unbuckle his belt. He paused before doing so to look at you. Another look asking if you were really okay with this. You smiled at him, nodding, and he swiftly took his length out, causing you to nearly whimper at the size and the look of it. He was rock hard, and the tip was oozing precum. 

Slowly, you leaned in and licked his cock tentatively, before he grabbed your hair and pushed you down on his length eliciting a muffled moan from you as you fought not to choke. He started thrusting into your mouth slowly, and at the sound of his groans you nearly lost it. His voice was already like a drug for you, hearing it in such an erotic state was driving you crazy. So much so that you tried to sneak your hand down and rub against your throbbing clit, desperate for any kind of friction. You only got away with it for a few moments before he noticed, taking his free hand and pulling your arm away.

“What kind of girl gets so drenched just from sucking off her boss’s dick? Hm?” 

He pulled you off of his cock just for a moment, and instead of answering, you just whimpered, pressing your thighs together, and he brought you back down to his cock. He started fucking your mouth again, and you kept moving your hips, grinding into nothing as you desperately sought relief. 

“Are you really that desperate?” He pulled you off again, and you nodded pathetically, spit dripping from your mouth and eyes glazed over. 

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you nodded again. “Please.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes, sir.”

“On the bed.”

You scrambled off the floor to do as you were told, hurrying over to the closest bed which just so happened to be the one you had claimed during your stay, but he stopped you.

“No,” his voice was quick and firm. “I want you on my bed.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly at his words, making you slightly curious about just how deep his instinct to claim you as “his” went. Happily, you followed his request and quickly found yourself on the other side of the room. Rather than sit and face the wall, you were feeling a little bold, and got on all fours with your ass prominently on display.  

“What a well-behaved bunny,” he mused as he took off his clothes, leaving you twitching and desperate for him, with your neck craning to the side as your cheek was against the duvet. You quietly stared as he unbuttoned his shirt, and quickly got restless when he began to reveal more of his skin.

It felt like forever until he was on the bed behind you, his cock sheathed in a condom and pressing against your still-clothed ass.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes.” 

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Do you want to let me use you? Or do you just want to cum?” He asked, his voice in a deep tone and his large hand reaching to caress your neck, gently grabbing your hair between his fingers and guiding your head up to look at him. It felt like an interrogation the way he questioned you, but it drastically increased the tension, and only made you want him more, and he shifted you slightly so your back was now against his chest, firmly in his hold.

“Mm, both.”

He chuckled from behind you. One of his hands was now gripping your breast which was barely hidden. The bodice of the costume relied on flimsy see-through straps to stay up, and he was quick to tear them off, making no more than a quick snapping sound before they were thrown somewhere on the floor. You felt him begin to press kisses to the side of your neck as he pulled the top of the fabric down, revealing your breasts and hungrily kneading them with one hand. With the other, his hand was traveling down your hip and across the front of your thighs before he hooked the fabric that covered your soaked entrance with his finger and moved it to the side. You gasped at the feeling of his hand moving directly against your clit, still impatient to cum even though it was well worth the wait.

 “Damn, you’re perfect.” The praise has you reeling as you rocked against him slightly. He lowered you back to where you had been, on all fours, and you could feel himself lining his cock up with your entrance behind you. “Ready, bunny?”

You nodded, and he easily entered you in a single thrust, no doubt thanks to how absurdly wet you had become. Despite the ease of entrance, the stretch felt brutal, it had you gasping and clutching the bedding under you.

He felt so big, and you hadn’t been fucked in a while. 

“Oh god,” you whimpered. “Sir, you’re so big.”

He let out a groan that had you clenching around his length, and pushing your hips back against him. His thick fingers found your hips and gripped them tightly as he pulled out almost to the tip and slammed back into you. You hadn’t realized how gentle he had started out until he began to pound into you at full force, each thrust making your legs tremble as his length hit the deepest spots inside of you. 

Given that you had already been so worked up from sucking him off, and were still riding the end of an adrenaline high from your work in the field earlier that night, your orgasm was rapidly approaching, only encouraged by the way Aaron had gently caressed any part of your body he could reach with one hand while the other still had a white hot grip on your hips. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to mess with the big bad wolves, bunny?” He murmured in your ear, aware of just how close you were and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back when his large hand found its way to your neck, squeezing gently but enough for you to feel it. Your legs shook uncontrollably as that coil inside you snapped and you let out a broken cry at the intensity of the orgasm washing over you. His movements only faltered slightly, otherwise unaffected by the way your walls had suffocated his cock.

You didn’t have the time or awareness to register just how quickly his movements were, as he pulled out of you, unzipped the back of your costume, quickly tore it entirely off your body, and flipped you over to face him. Your face flushed as you tried to catch your breath.

“Ooh, look at you,” he groaned. “Perfect little bunny.” Despite his mockingly sweet tone, he shoved himself back into you roughly, earning a cry from your lips as your oversensitive pussy took him in once more. The pleasure he was giving you was so intense, doubled by your years-long crush for the man who was giving it to you. You were so sensitive it felt almost cruel, but you didn’t want him to stop. His hand explored your body, gripping your bare hips and squeezing your breasts, putting his hands everywhere he’d never been able to before.

“Please,” you breathed out after a particularly sharp thrust, reaching for one of his hands but struggling to get your bearings enough to get a hold of it.

“Please what, bunny?”

The only response you could give was a drawn-out moan, but at your struggle, he placed a hand in your searching one, and you immediately brought it right to your throat.

“You want me to squeeze or just hold?”

“Hold,” you murmured, blushing that he stopped to check, the moment becoming more tender than either of you had intended. He kept a firm hold around your neck without choking you, just keeping you in place. Showing his power over you.

“You’re such a dirty bunny,” he murmured, resuming his sharp thrusts as you bit your lip to muffle the whines coming from your throat. You could feel how intensely you were pulsing around him, the sight of him over you with his hand around your neck causing your eyes to roll back as he fucked you into oblivion, slowly devolving to a blubbering and begging mess.

“Fuck, please! Please pleaseplease- sir-“ you slurred, hardly aware of anything except him as his cock brushed against every sensitive spot inside of you. While his thrusts had been deep and controlled and measured, your begging seemed to cause his pace to falter.

“Pretty Bunny,” he groaned, “cum again for me, make a mess on my dick.”

Your nails dug into his arms as you let out a cry, an odd deep feeling of relief settling over you as you came again with him buried inside of you, feeling as though all your nerves were on fire. His thrusts were starting to grow more erratic as he stared down at you, watching you as you sunk deeper into bliss, becoming less and less aware of what was around you. 

“Eyes on me, Bunny,” he panted, hand squeezing your throat gently for a moment just to get your attention. Your eyes opened, locking onto his as soon as you comprehended what he had asked, staring up at him  “Fuck, your eyes are so pretty.” Even in your blissed-out state, you hadn’t expected such a genuine compliment, staring at him in wonder as his movements slowed.

“Please, wanna feel you cum in me,” you whined, rocking your hips against him as he moved his hand from your throat to tightly grip your hip, trying to pull you further into him as he slammed into you, letting out a deep groan as he came, spilling into the condom while sheathed inside of you. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of him throbbing, and winced when he slowly began to pull out of you before disposing of the condom and laying next to you, pulling you into his arms. The two of you stayed like that for a long moment after you wiggled your way further into his grasp and laid your head next to his chest. 

“You’re really warm,” you sighed happily, trying to escape the chilly air of the room. He laughed, a sound you rarely heard from him. 

“I was jealous,” he murmured above you. Your mind was still hazy, body feeling heavy but tingly with pleasure.

“Huh?” You managed to question through the fog, eyes opening to look at him.

“When I saw you talking to that guy. I was jealous.”

“Is that why you got so mad?” You teased.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“No, but I won’t mind getting reprimanded more often…”

“Greedy,” he smiled. 

You sighed happily. “We really came full circle, didn’t we?”

He nodded. “Took us long enough. Derek has been telling me I need to ask you out since we met at that party two years ago.”

"The bunny girl outfit never fails," you murmured, smiling at him.

Morpheus was interrupted from his work by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he sighed, reluctant to have to speak to anyone. He only grew more annoyed when he laid eyes on his sibling as they entered the room, slinking about with that stupid grin on their face. “Why are you here?”

“What, I can’t visit my brother?”

“You never just visit. Why are you here.”

Desire smirked and leaned against the wall by Dream’s desk. Annoyed eyes narrowed at them, trying to discern the purpose of their visit.

“Death and I had a little chat the other day. And you know what she told me? She said that you’d gotten yourself a pet.”

“You mean Matthew? He’s hardly a pet.”

“No, not that stupid bird, I’m referring to your little nymph. The one that Death found, all lost and scared and without a home,” Desire said in a slightly mocking tone.

Morpheus’s jaw tightened at the mention of the you. “Do not refer to her in such a way. And do not mock the tragedy that befell her or her home. Death found her and her home was destroyed, she had no where else to go. I agreed to let her live here. That’s that.”

“Well, anyway,” Desire waved in the air, dismissing their brother’s disdain towards their attitude. “She’s very cute. Very sweet. I think you two would make quite the pair…” Morpheus said nothing as he continued to stare down his sibling who rambled on.

When it was clear Desire would not leave until he gave in to whatever it was they wanted, he responded. “She is very dear to me, but we are friends. Please don’t read into things.”

“You’re quite thick in the head, did you know that, brother? Which is why, sometimes, I think it’s best to force your hand…”

Morpheus stood up from his desk abruptly. “What did you do?” He asked in a low, stern tone.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Desire winked. “Goodbye, brother!” They called as they left, likely returning to their own realm now that they’ve succeeded in causing trouble.

Dream of the endless tried to sit back down and go back to his work, but it was hardly an hour after his sibling left that two palace staff came rushing into his office.

“Sir, It’s y/n…. She- she um…” one of them spoke, panting from how quickly they had ran in and clearly unsure how to phrase it.

Morpheus simply stood up and headed towards your chambers, walking at a quick pace.

He heard a strange, high-pitched whimper coming from your door as he approached it, as well as the sight of vines and leaves creeping out from the cracks in the door. He swung open the door quickly to see you writhing in your bed at the far end of the room with the plants you kept growing and twisting around the furniture and up the walls.

The palace doctor was trying to examine you but you wouldn’t quit moving. Morpheus shut the door behind him and crossed the room to where you were, looking to the doctor for answers.

“What happened?”

The doctor turned to him and pushed her glasses up slightly, sighing. “It would appear that she has been given a drug which has greatly increased her libido. It’s like she’s gone into heat, her temperature is increased and her mind is all mixed up. According to Lucienne, she collapsed in the library after being seen with Desire… I think you can guess who is responsible.”

Morpheus’s pale face nearly reddened at the doctor’s words, and his eyes trailed down to you. Your face was flushed red and your eyes squeezed shut, a few tears escaping down your cheeks, and both your hands gripping the sheet that had been laid over your body, threatening the sheet to fall and exposing your breasts.

He quickly reached over to you and pulled the sheet up, and felt your hands gently wrap around his arm as he did so, refusing to let him go. You hummed in contentment through small sobs, eyes still closed yet savoring the contact.

Morpheus had been around a very long time. Of course he knew how to fix it, but he didn’t know if he could possibly overcome his own fears of doing so. He was terrified of letting you get close, and even more terrified of losing you.

“It should wear off in two days without anyone intervening, it’s just going to be a bit painful for her… If there is intervention, it could wear off in a couple of hours to a day. Unfortunately, there’s nothing else I can do for her… so I’ll be on my way,” the doctor gave Morpheus a look before leaving the room, making a point to lock the door behind her.

He sighed, looking down at you. Gods, he thought you were gorgeous. Even in your delirious state your hair shone and your skin looked as soft as silk.

You had been living together for a few years now, and he considered you a good friend despite his reluctance to allow you to live in the Dreaming. It was Death who had convinced him.

Death impressed upon him the importance of nature, the value of giving humans dreams and visions of lush greenery and delicate flowers. It was the lack of appreciation for those things that left you without a home, weakened and alone.

You were so good to him, and he appreciated you deeply. You somehow always knew when he was in a mood, when he needed to talk, when he just needed company. For the most part, you seemed to keep to yourself, crafting those visions of nature for the humans and filling children’s dreams with butterflies. You fit right into the Dreaming, effortlessly.

As you clung to his arm, he gently moved his other hand to push hair from your face. A small gasp escaped your lips, and experimentally, Morpheus cupped your cheek, stroking his thumb across your skin. Your eyes fluttered open, more tears escaping, and you sighed at the contact.

“Morpheus,” you whined, trying to grip his arm tighter and pull him closer.

“Little one,” he whispered to you, knowing how your heart skipped a beat when he called you that. You never told him how much you liked it, how it made you feel as though you were under his protection, but he knew. “What’s wrong?”

“Too hot,” you gasped, and it was painfully true. It felt like you had caught on fire, clenching your thighs together as you felt wetness seeping out of you and down your legs. “Hurts so much. Touch me, please,” you moaned. You would normally never ever be so brazen, but your brain wasn’t working quite right and the only thing you wanted was the gorgeous god next to you to rearrange your insides.

You felt your muscles cramp again, letting out a heady moan as more slick left your entrance and the vines around the room twisted up another few inches. You could never quite control the plant growth when your emotions were running rampant.

His thumb that had been gently rubbing against your cheek slowly edged towards your lips, and without second thought, you opened your mouth, your tongue curling around the digit and sucking on it. The black haired god sat down on the bed beside you, staring into your eyes intensely.

Those grey eyes were filled with indecision and restraint. Trying to assure him, you asked again. “Please, please, touch me, Morpheus. I need you,” you pulled down the sheet covering your breasts and grabbed his hand, licking and pressing kisses against his wrists.

Morpheus knew as soon as the doctor told him what had overcome you that this would only end in one way. He cared too much to lock you in here and let you suffer alone, and he was far too infatuated with you not to take the opportunity to bring you to several mind-numbing orgasms. Especially if you would be in pain otherwise. He might be a god, but Morpheus felt powerless against you. He knew he’d do anything for you.

You watched his eyes as his resolve broke, pulling his arm away and yanking the sheet entirely off your body. The cool air of the room felt better against your feverish skin, but you burned under his intense gaze, his hand ran over your skin, across your breast and down to the curve of your hips, before stopping. You whimpered, and his hand finally glided over towards your legs, up your thigh feeling the liquid that had been dripping out of you. A strange, low growl emitted from his throat as he felt just how wet you were, and you nearly cried when he finally touched your center, fingers circling through the wetness and around your clit.

“Shh, good girl,” he whispered as you moaned wantonly with his fingers on you, desperate to cum in any way you can get. “Does that feel better?”

“Mhm, so much better,” you sighed, trying to move your hips against him. His long fingers suddenly breached into your pussy and slid in with ease, curling up over and over again, making your body feel like it was being wound up impossibly tight. “Oh, gods, please,” you moaned as he continued curling his fingers slowly inside of you, the slow pace torturous yet making the buildup even more intense before you shattered, crying out his name and squirting liquid onto his hand as your legs shook and your pussy convulsed around his fingers.

The orgasm took the burning, painful heat away and took the edge off of the pain you had felt, leaving you warm and buzzing as the aftershocks rolled through you. Morpheus pulled his fingers out of you and his clothes were gone in an instant, climbing over you and claiming your lips with his own in a messy, heated kiss.

You kissed back fervently, feeling the needy heat inside of you flare back up as you wrapped your arms over his shoulders, whimpering into his perfect mouth and rubbing against his leg that was now between your own.

“You’re being so good for me, darling,” he told you in that seductive voice which had always affected you even when you didn’t want to admit it. His voice sounded like pure comfort and sin.

“Oh!” You gasped when his mouth came into contact with the spot under your ear, nibbling down and making you feel like you could burst at any second again.

You watched in awe as he worked his way down your body, clutching the sheets beneath you when his mouth sucked and gently bit on your nipple, giving attention to the other one as well before continuing down back to your center, eyes locked on you as he began to place kisses on the inside of your thighs.

When you felt his tongue part your soaked folds you were convinced that you must be dreaming. But you weren’t, and the man between your legs was the one responsible for all dreams in the first place. No, it was all shockingly real, and every time his tongue swirled your sensitive clit, the warmth added even more pleasure as he worked you back up to your peak.

He paused, and you felt a hand grip your breast as he spoke. “Look at me, y/n.” As if he needed you to see it was him bringing you pleasure. It was him you revered, him who was making you see stars, and you of course complied, looking down to see his ever-messy black hair slightly covering his eyes as he looked at you.

The sight of him between your legs mixing with the look of pure power he was giving you as he sucked your clit made you cry out his name as you came once more, juices dripping down his chin as you gushed and your walls clenched around nothing, his name coming out in pants through your overwhelming pleasure. When he finally ceased his movements his hands both gripped your thighs as he sat up, looking down at you. Your hair was messy and your eyes were beginning to glaze over in ecstasy.

Morpheus often wondered how you looked so perfect, so effortlessly beautiful. Perhaps it was because you were simply of nature, a nymph made to protect and nurture, sweet by mere creation. Now, looking at you in your post-orgasm haze, he realized he hadn’t been appreciative enough of you. You were beyond perfection, made of pure wonder, better than anything he could ever imagine. And now, you were under him. You were his, looking up at him as if he was the only important thing in the world.

How had he waited this long?

Perhaps, despite Morpheus’s disdain for the pain the condition was causing you, Desire’s meddling had worked out well for once. Not that Morpheus would ever let Desire anywhere near you again…

The feeling of his hands gripping your thighs was oddly comforting, making you feel powerless against him. And that’s all you wanted. You wanted him to absolutely ruin you, to pull you apart at the seams and put you back together as his.

Your eyes were skimming across his slender, long body before landing on his cock, erect and leaking, and you let out a whimper at the sight of it alone, moving to sit up and reach for him, but he didn’t allow it, putting a hand on your shoulder to stop you from getting up.

You let out an unhappy noise at the refusal but he quickly reassured you with kisses along the side of your face.

“You’re still burning up, let me take care of you, little one.”

Nodding, you opened your legs for him, but still quickly wrapped a hand around his length and pumped up and down gently, experimentally almost, and watched his eyes flutter closed for a moment as he let out a deep groan.

“Such a needy girl. You need to be filled up? Will that make you stop hurting?”

You nodded again, desperate for him to stop talking and shove himself deep in you already.

“Say what you want,” he taunted in his seductive voice.

“I want you, Morpheus. I want you in me,” you breathed impatiently.

He finally lined his tip up with your entrance, the intrusion warm and causing you to gasp.

As he pushed in, he began to fully stretch you out, causing a slight burn. But the burn felt so right, and you just wanted him deeper. You wanted him everywhere. You wanted to feel like you were so full of him you could burst.

You encouraged him by wriggling your hips against him as he continued to push into you, moaning softly in his ear and he let out a low moan as he finally bottomed out, fully sheathed inside of you. You were incredibly wet and your walls were squeezing him tight, and the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside of you forced Morpheus to pause for a moment so he wouldn’t cum inside you right away.

Before he even started moving you wrapped your legs around his waist and started rocking into him slowly, looking at him with pure lust and moaning in such a lovely, needy way that he had no choice but to give in to you.

He finally started fucking you in earnest, and your nails began to dig into his back as his cock dragged in and out of you, hitting every single spot as he did so and leaving you a mess. You couldn’t stop moaning, losing touch with reality quickly as he tilted your hips up and began thrusting directly into your g-spot, making you nearly scream as you saw stars.

Your eyes were locked on his, in near worship of the way the god was giving you pleasure. Your brain was obsessed with it, still locked on the idea of getting him somehow deeper, desperately yearning for him to cum in you as much as possible. There was nothing but him as his hips thrust into you, a hand moving to your breast to squeeze it roughly.

The thought alone of Morpheus cumming inside of you is what sent you over the edge. You wanted to please him, wanted to keep a part of him in you, wanted him to mark you and use you for his own pleasure.

You cried out through your fog of lust at the intensity of the orgasm, your pussy tightening around his cock and clenching down, you could feel him throbbing inside of you as you came around him and coated his thick cock with your release. Instead of giving you a clear head, the instant pleasure and release from your orgasm only lasted a few moments before you were sent further into hyperdrive.

“Oh, fuck,” Morpheus cursed at your tightness. “Give me one more, darling. One more,” and his hand moved to circle your drenched clit. You cried out, squirming under him.

“Deeper! Please, Morpheus, my lord, fuck me deeper! I need you to fill me with your cum, need it so much,” you babbled, desperate and dead set on being filled with his cum. It was the only thing your brain could think of, being marked, being his, filled to the brim with your king’s white and sticky release, the warmth spreading through your abdomen as it dripped from your soaked core.

Morpheus knew immediately that the drugs were fully affecting your words and desires, but he was quite sure that if he didn’t give you what you wanted, you would remain overheated and desperate and would go to whatever lengths it took to get him to cum inside of you.

He complied, shifting your hips once more to change the angle to reach even deeper, a high-pitched whine escaping from you as he hit your spot perfectly.

“You want me to come inside of you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, please!” You cried, back arching as you looked up at him in pure desperation.

“How could I ever say no to you? I’ll fill you up so full, mark you, leave you dripping…” your moans grew in volume as he continued, still rubbing your clit. “Do you want that? Want to be so full of my cum that you feel it inside of you?”

Morpheus knew you were beyond words, you were so lost in pleasure that the vines you unknowingly controlled had began to creep onto the bed and wrap around the headboard. With the brutal pace and precision of the way he was fucking you, and the amount of liquid that kept seeping out from your core, he knew you were close.

“Cum for me again, and I’ll cum inside of you, my love. Cum around my cock,” he commanded, and you certainly complied. You gripped the sheets beneath you as you finally let go, sobbing out in your release, feeling like fireworks had gone off in your nerves and gushing around him for the second time. It was so brutally powerful, and even more so when you felt Morpheus’s hips slow as he released inside of you with a deep groan, the warmth coating your insides and filling you with inexplicable contentment. The feeling of him finishing inside of you prolonged your orgasm left you shaking. You felt perfectly full, overjoyed to be claimed by him in such a way, and your needy brain finally quieted giving you peace from the rampant lewd thoughts.

The vines and leaves shrunk away, not dying but reverting to their previous state. The overbearing heat finally left your body leaving you feeling only warm, buzzing, and sated, whispering your thanks to him in a small voice. You felt heavy and your legs felt nearly numb. Morpheus stayed inside of you but shifted your bodies to be on your sides, facing one another. “You were such a good girl for me,” he spoke softly as he pulled you closer. You quickly curled up against his chest and fell asleep, barely aware of your surroundings but feeling safe in the warmth of his arms.

•*•*•*•*•*•

You woke up feeling normal, the cool and fluffy fabric of the comforter against your skin, along with the warmth of Morpheus’s arms.

The man was always so stone-cold and expressionless that you thought he might be cold to the touch, but no, he was pleasantly warm.

Then, confusion hit you. Why were you naked? Why was he naked?

And why was he in your bed??

Your eyes widened and you shifted your head to look up at him. He looked so peaceful, messy hair hanging over his closed eyes, chest rising and falling with each breath.

As you watched him, realization began to wash over you as you remembered what you had done. You shot up in embarrassment and covered your mouth with one hand, using the other to pull the blanket up and cover your exposed breasts. The sudden shift loosened the god’s grip around you and his eyes opened.

“I- My Lord… I am so sorry!” you apologized still covering your face, bright red with embarrassment over your brazen actions.

“What are you sorry for, little one?” He asked with the ghost of a smile on his lips, sitting up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pull your hand from your face.

You looked down shamefully, face burning and unable to meet his gaze. “For what I did… earlier…”

“Look at me, y/n.”

When you didn’t comply he reached out to tilt your chin up.

“Do you regret what we did?”

You paused for a moment before shaking your head.

“Well, I do not regret it either,” he spoke in that ever serious voice of his, smooth as velvet and dark as obsidian. He took the hand that was holding the blanket over you and pulled it away, pulling you towards him to settle back against his chest. “Though I do apologize for not doing that sooner.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, and you glanced up to see an obvious smile on Morpheus’s face.

< I’ll be like a wildflower

I live on sheer willpower

I’ll do my best never to turn into something

That burns, burns, burns… >

-Lana Del Rey, Wildflower, Wildfire

Entering through the back doors of the palace, you sighed, stretching your arms over your head. Your dress was unwrinkled and your feet, while bare, showed no signs of where you’d been, such was the magic of the Dreaming. You had spent most of the day in the gardens among the flowers, and while you greatly enjoyed the work, you always felt sleepy by the end of the day. Morpheus may not need to sleep, but you were not originally from the realm. Though not human, your body still required some sort of rest to maintain function. However, you never liked going to sleep without seeing your partner.

As Morpheus would likely be busy for a while longer, you made your way to the library, bare feet padding through the castle quietly until you arrived at the familiar door. You often came by at least once a day, picking up or dropping off books and chatting with Lucienne.

“Lucienne?” You called, voice traveling through the long halls with books from floor to ceiling. 

“Up here!” You heard her faint voice from above, and ascended the stairs to find her. When you finally found her, she was pulling books off a particular shelf into a stack on the floor, likely going through a certain topic and re-arranging.

“Do you need any help?” 

“No, no, my Lady, I’m quite alright. There is, in fact, a method to all of this.”

“I can well believe that,” you smiled. “And stop calling me ‘my lady!’ You know that is a title I do not possess.”

“Perhaps one day,” she smirked. “I know you are still worried that he is not sincere, but I promise you, it is different this time.”

“I hope you’re right. I just couldn’t bear for him to one day regret it, yet live amongst those in his realm that call me their lady. There have been others before me, there may be more after.”

As much as you loved Morpheus, and as much as he seemed to love you now, fear remained in your heart that you would be like the others. Even Queen Titania, who ruled over the fae and the nymphs, was rumored to have had a brief and tumultuous affair with the King of the Dreaming. And yet, people had begun to call you “my lady,” and as it went on, you started gently correcting them, not wanting to take a position that was not truly yours.

“I would never lie to you, y/n. If I say it is different, I mean it. For all of the loyalty I have to my King, I’d never see you hurt. If I had doubts, I’d tell you.”

“I know,” you assured her. “I trust you whole-heartedly, dear Lucienne.”

“I am glad you’re here, as there have been plenty of new books appearing in the non-fiction section regarding the effects of deforestation and pollution on the greater environment of the waking world. Seems like you’ve been making some progress.”

“I am just happy Morpheus lets me interfere in the dreams sometimes,” you laughed, elated that you were successful in turning attention towards mother earth. “It’s a slow process, influencing the waking world. Seeing any improvement is exciting.”

“Y/n!”  Matthew cawed from somewhere nearby, and as you and Lucienne looked up, you spotted the black raven hurling toward you. You quickly stepped to the side, and he crashed into the bookshelf next to Lucienne instead of you, causing the pile Lucienne had been making to fall. “Y/n- OW!”

“Matthew,” she scolded. “What have I told you about being careful in the library!”

“Sorry- sorry,” he spoke, shuttering slightly as he righted his wings. “It was an emergency! Morpheus wanted me to warn you that Desire has been spotted in the Dreaming. He has gone to look for them now!”

“Not again,” you sighed. While you didn’t harbor any ill-will towards the other Endless, you certainly did not appreciate being drugged without your will. You would think that would be a given, but even though Desire had successfully meddled in yours and Morpheus’s lives, you feared they wouldn’t stop while they were ahead. What’s to say they wouldn’t ruin your relationship as easily as they started it?

“Maybe you should leave the library, this is where they found you last time,” Lucienne suggested, sending you an apologetic glance.

“I’ll be in Morpheus’s solar,” you spoke, leaning down to pick up a book that had landed by your feet. “I doubt they could have gotten in there- right?”

“Unlikely?” Matthew gave what seemed to be a shrug, before flying over to you and resting on your shoulder. “I’ll come with you! If Desire causes trouble again for you, Lord Morpheus surely will never let me hear the end of it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes and gave a playful swat to the worried bird before bidding goodbye to Lucienne and heading back down the stairs of the library. The halls seemed quiet as usual, and you made it to Morpheus’s solar without trouble. Matthew left your shoulder and perched on one of the arm chairs by the fireplace as you closed the door.

Matthew would not sit still, hopping from chair to chair as you settled into a loveseat by the window, overlooking part of the gardens that you worked in nearly every day. He wasn’t in here often, usually if he did rest he went to his chambers which were connected by a short hallway between, but you wondered if he had ever spotted you working from the windows. Despite Matthew’s endless rattling on, you found your eyes growing tired, and slipping closed. You wouldn’t sleep, you told yourself, you tried to keep listening to the raven talking nearby.

You definitely had fallen asleep, and your only tell was how much the sound of the door opening startled you. Your head tilted up, and you saw a very distraught Morpheus in the doorway.

Matthew had squawked when the door slammed open as well, but was collecting himself. “My Lord! There you are! I watched over Y/n the whole time, Desire didn’t find her.”

Morpheus showed no indication of hearing what Matthew was telling him, for as soon as his dark eyes met yours, they were locked on you. 

“Matthew?” He eventually spoke, still not looking at the raven and keeping a quiet, even tone.

“Yes, sir?”

“Thank you. Now get out.” He ordered quietly, and Matthew immediately followed his command, probably just thankful not to have angered him.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, now that it was just the two of you. Morpheus calmly closed the door behind him, and you watched that calmness break as he strode over to you quickly, leaning down and kissing you hard.

You gasped at his sudden change in demeanor, and at the fervor with which he was kissing you. “Ah, Morpheus-”

He leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closing for a moment. “They really didn’t get to you?”

“No-no I feel fine,” and you gasped once again when the King of the Dreaming pulled you into his lap as he sat down. His arms wrapped around you tightly and as you shifted to put your head on his shoulder, you felt his arousal against the underside of your thigh. You froze, unsure if what had affected you the last time Desire came to visit had been given to your King.

“Did they-”

“They didn’t drug me,” he spoke softly, anticipating the question. He seemed very sure of this by the way he was looking at you, but you had to ask again.

“Are you sure? You’re- you seem worked up,” your voice trailed into a whisper as he set his hands on your hips and started grinding your ass against his hard length.

“I’m sure, but I need to be inside of you, my dear,” he murmured against your lips. He was riding up the skirt of your dress, eventually finding your underwear and ripping them clean off of you. He could have gotten rid of it with ease, but Morpheus always tended to enjoy ripping the clothes off of you more. It sent flutters through your stomach and heat directly to your core. 

“Get up for a moment, love.” You obeyed immediately. 

He pulled his hard cock from the confines of his pants, opting to leave his clothes, as well as your dress, on. Morpheus sat back down on the loveseat and leaned back slightly before reaching for your hips again, pulling you gently to straddle his lap. You were already wet from the way he had grinded you against him, so as he aligned himself with your entrance, he was able to slide in with ease, pulling you down so he could sink into you further. You let out a whimper as you were stretched open on his cock, filling you completely. It was still overwhelming, your eyes rolled back, no matter how many times he’d been inside of you it overwhelmed you. You were convinced it was just Morpheus himself, because truly, nothing else felt like him. Nothing else compared to how much the King of Dreams showed you he wanted you and showed you that you were, in fact, his.

As you tried to move your hips a little, his hands harshly gripped your hips, lifting you up before pulling you back down onto him.

“Ah!” you gasped, your legs struggling to match the pace he was setting you at. Riding him was something you rarely did unless the sex was on the gentler side, which was once again unusual for the two of you. But when you did ride him, he was still in charge of you, and you loved to have him remind you of that.

His hands roamed across your still-clothed body, ghosting over your breasts and squeezing your waist, until his hand was cupping your jaw, making you look him in the eyes. 

“Look at me, little one,” he spoke softly and evenly, as if he wasn’t currently all the way inside if you.

“Please, please touch me,” you begged, longing to feel his hands on your bare skin. The teasing was overwhelming, and you wanted nothing more than his touch. Even though he could have removed both of your clothing in a mere instant, he had left it all on.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he ordered. When you only whimpered in response, he pulled you flush to him, slowly grinding you on his cock and hitting spots deep inside of you. “Tell me who you belong to,” he said once again with a sharper tone.

“You! ‘M yours!” You stuttered as he was at just the right angle inside of you. He seemed satisfied with your answer as he brought up a hand behind your head and grabbed your hair, gently pulling your head back and exposing your neck fully to him. 

“That’s right, you’re mine. No one else can have you,” he growled and sucked marks into your neck. You clawed desperately at his shoulders, the pleasure in your core rising with every movement from him. 

“Take me,” you panted, desperate to have Morpheus fuck you the way only he could. “Please!”

“Cum for me first. I wanna see you come apart, my love,” he murmured into your ear, voice as sweet and dark as sin. He moved one hand to your waist, and the other pulled up your skirts to rub tight circles over your clit. You moved your hips against him, arms around his neck as you began riding him once more. “Good girl, keep going, fuck, I can feel how you’re tightening around my cock. No one else makes you this desperate, do they?”

“N-no, never, just you,” you whimpered, growing closer with each passing moment. His voice and his words kept pushing you nearer to the edge, you felt yourself getting warmer and your legs were shaking.

“Cum, cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, and it broke you. You felt the pressure in your core tighten and burst, sending waves of pleasure through your whole body, cunt spasming around his cock as you cried his name. Your legs became useless nearly the instant your orgasm hit, but Morpheus continued to thrust up into you, letting you ride it out and extending the pleasure further until you collapsed against his chest. “That’s it, good girl,” he praised, running a hand through your hair for a moment before fulfilling his promise to you.

He pulled you off of his cock and had you hips up and face-down into the couch cushion in seconds, causing you to cry out loudly at the overstimulation when he swiftly re-entered you in a single thrust. Your inner walls were sensitive, and as he began fucking into you at a brutal pace, you could barely form a single coherent thought. It was at least twenty full seconds until you realized that the room had gotten colder because Morpheus removed both of your clothing. You could do nothing but take what he was giving you, and as he continued to hit the spot inside of you that made you see stars, you felt yourself getting closer again.

His hands gripped your hips so deeply you knew there’d be marks to admire later, and as you glanced over your shoulder, you could see the intensity in his eyes. His lips curled when your eyes caught on his, and he leaned over you to grab you by your neck and pull you up so you were kneeling with your back flush against his chest, changing the angle. Your head was on his shoulder, and your cries mixed with the lewd sound of skin against skin.

“Who’s making you feel so good, hmm?”

“Y-you!”

“Say my name, little one.”

“Mor-Morpheus!” you cried as his hand found your clit once more, pushing you closer and closer.

“Yes, that’s right,” he groaned, movements becoming more erratic as he neared his end, too. “I’ve marked you all up, but I still have to claim your insides, my love. Have to fill you so much it starts dripping out of you- that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled, he knew those words would send you over the edge. The knowledge he was going to cum inside of you just to re-claim you as his had the cord inside of you snapping and your orgasm hit you like a wave, each of Morpheus’s thrusts sending you further into a state of bliss as you cried out, unable to even hold yourself up as you felt his cock twitch from the way your walls were squeezing him. “Cum in me, please, breed me, Morpheus,” you babbled out as your orgasm continued to wash over you.

“Good girl, asking so nicely for it, that’s my girl,” he moaned as his movements slowed. He was fully holding you against him as he reached his peak with a deep groan, pressing as far into you as he could and his cock releasing so much that you could feel it hitting deep inside of you and beginning to drip down his cock and out of your soaking entrance. He kissed your neck as you both came down from your highs.

You shuttered at the feeling of him dripping from you, and he carefully slipped out of you before gently setting you on your side on the couch. Your body was still twitching with aftershocks as he moved to push the cum that was leaking out of you back inside with his fingers, causing you to sigh with contentment.

“After all this time, you’re still obsessed with my cum, hm?” Morpheus hummed in amusement.

You giggled despite your exhausted state, swatting his hand away from your entrance. “Can’t help it. I know it isn’t gonna get me pregnant, it’s just the whole nymph and fertility thing…”

He smiled tenderly at you, placing a soft kiss to your lips before shifting to lay behind you, arms wrapping around your naked form on the plush couch. “I know. Besides, it drives me crazy hearing you beg.”

You hummed in response, his chest pressing against your back making you feel drowsy and safe.

“Are you really okay? What did Desire want, anyway?”

“I’m perfectly alright, it’s just that they are always looking to stir up trouble. I can’t believe Desire thinks they could come anywhere near you after last time. I was worried what I would do to them if they got to you again. But I did hear something interesting…” He pulled you even closer, speaking in that suave voice of his directly into your ear. “It seems that someone doesn’t want to be the Lady of the Dreaming.” His voice was low, and while he didn’t seem angry, you could not tell what he was feeling. “What do you have to say to that, little one?”

“I-” You began to speak, but you felt yourself blushing furiously when the words got stuck in your throat. “I- I didn’t want to take the title just because we’re together,” You confessed. “I know you’ve had other lovers in the past and those relationships didn’t turn out well, I don’t want to take a title that is not rightfully mine… It feels wrong to establish myself so firmly in this realm when we have only been together a short time.”

You craned your head to the side to look at him, and his eyes twinkled slightly in amusement, which confused you, as you were on the brink of tears. He lovingly brought a hand to cradle your cheek as he spoke to you.

“Little one, this is not the first time you’ve told me of your doubts, but I am surprised at this. You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“If people living beyond this castle have been calling you “my lady,” that is because it is your rightful title. Your rightful place. Destiny made certain of that, long ago.”

“But what does that mean?”

“It means that this realm and its inhabitants are not capable of recognizing someone as their Lady unless it was truly meant to be. While I had always hated Destiny’s interference in my realm, I see now that he has given me the greatest gift.” You were in disbelief, and you rolled over to face him on your side, looking for any signs of him joking. But Morpheus would never make a joke like this… No, he must be completely serious.

“What if- what if one day you no longer want me?”

“That day will never come, darling. Trust me, I’ve lived long enough to know. Even if I did not feel this way, Destiny is unchangeable. Even if you correct the townspeople and the visitors, they will still refer to you as the Lady of the Dreaming because it is ingrained into the fabric of this world. When you rejected it… well, that’s why Desire paid us a visit. They seemed to be worried that I wasn’t holding onto you quite tightly enough… I had to give them a very very firm reminder that you’re mine.” His hands wrapped around you tightly when he spoke, and you smiled, tucking your head into his neck. “I made a decision, quite some time before we met, that if I were ever to love again, it must be reserved for the right person. The way I felt for you, long before Desire interfered, it was indescribable. I waited so long to tell you because I was terrified knowing that if I had you, I would never be able to let you go. Desire could apparently feed off of that knowledge, off the desire I held for you, and got annoyed by it. That’s why they interfered.” 

Morpheus had never told you any of this before, and while you had never doubted his love for you, his admission pushed away all other doubts you had about the two of you. And about your place in the dreaming.

“I do feel like I belong here,” you whispered. “I just didn’t want to overstep.”

“The Dreaming is your home now, love. Will you take the position of Lady?”

You pulled your head back to look in his eyes, and a soft smile was on his lips.

“Morpheus… was that a proposal?” He shrugged.

“I suppose it was half of one.”

“Half a proposal?” you stifled a laugh.

“I would not propose to you in this state,” he chuckled. “No, not a real proposal. Though, it did kind of sound like one, didn’t it?”

“If I am the Lady of this realm, doesn’t that make me… your wife?”

His face broke into a grin at your question. “One day, yes. It doesn’t have to be now. Might as well have you get used to being called “Lady,” first,” he teased.

You smiled at him as you spoke. “Okay.”

“Yes?” you nodded in affirmation. “Would my Lady be so kind as to kiss me, then?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was teasing you, but you still obliged him, leaning your head up to meet his lips in a loving kiss.

< What sweet world is this? Honey on the vine..

School kid dreams came true, then passed in the night

I used to dream about people like you, now I don’t know why… >

-Lana Del Rey, Nectar of the Gods

You hurried to pack your things from the tent you had once shared with your aunt, the one you still shared with two of her daughters, your cousins, Dacey and Lyra. Maege’s oldest and third oldest. The rest, Alysane, Jorelle, and Lyanna, remained at Bear Island. 

The she-bear is no more. When her daughters decided to remain by the King’s side, you knew you could not. Then, the message came from up North. From the Wall.

To your luck, the raven’s message landed in the hands of Catelyn Stark, not her son’s. It was Catelyn who came up to you, pulling you into her tent to talk alone. Her eyes alone saw the tears when she told you.

Your father was dead. Killed by his own men in a mutiny beyond the wall.

You were taught better than to react in the way you did, in disbelief and agony. In shock. You had stared at the older woman for a few moments before you could even process her words, yet your eyes seemed to beat your mind to it, tears streaming down your face as you stared past Catelyn, towards the opening of the tent and out into the beyond. 

When the sobs broke through, you felt her hands on your arms, holding you up so you wouldn’t fall over, bringing you close and providing you with the comfort only a mother could, even though you would never get to call her by that name.

Even though she herself had expected you to one day.

You were thankful that Catelyn atleast understood your pain. While you hailed from Bear Island, while you held the name Mormont and were loyal as can be to House Stark, while you knew how to fight and lead like the rest of your family, the pain of it all weighed on you. As much as you tried to hide it, for the pride of your house, for your own dignity, it was far too much, and you and the Stark matriarch both knew the pain went beyond the death of your father.

It was everything inbetween. 

The two Stark girls whom you loved like sisters, in what felt like increasingly mortal danger because of Robb’s rebellion. 

The death of your aunt, who cared for you as though you were her own when your mother died, when your much older half-brother Jorah disgraced the house, and when your father left to take the black.

The fear for your house and your future, leaving your dear young cousin Lyanna at home and in charge of Bear Island with her mother’s most trusted advisors.

The fact that your father was killed by his own men, by the job he had commited his life to. 

The heartbreak of Robb moving on.

The anger caused by his stupidity.

The moment you learned he had married that Westerling woman, the one who traveled along with the infantry, healing men who probably didn’t have a chance, you knew this war was doomed. Not because of what Walder Frey would do, but because of Robb’s clear lack of foresight. How could he not see what the rest of you saw? All for one woman.

You had never asked that of him.

Your engagement had been broken off when the war began. He told you he wanted to keep the engagement but did not want you to be a target, and you had told him that the greatest chance he’d have at winning this war was through an advantageous marriage. One that would offer far more than your family could. You didn’t do it because you didn’t love him, no. The both of you were desolate at the reality of it all. In your mind, you hoped he would refuse to marry throughout the war. Hoped the “young wolf” would be strong enough, that he wouldn’t need to. But you knew better, and you knew he needed the numbers. If Arya and Sansa were going to survive, he needed a stronger army and a wife that could offer more to him standing by his side. 

When he promised to marry Walder Frey’s daughter, your heart broke. Yet the passage was worth it. The North was worth it.

You would do it a thousand times over for Sansa and Arya, and you’d do the same for your own young cousins that were like sisters to you. Not that Dacey and Lyra needed protecting, but if they did, you would do it for them without much thought. 

For his family, for his sisters, you broke the engagement. 

And Robb threw all of that away, and the North along with it, by marrying Talisa.

As you changed into more suitable riding clothes, you couldn’t help but think of the past. Of when you thought you had it all figured out. You closed your eyes, and tears slipped out at the memories of him.

Holding his hand and walking through the glass gardens. Braiding Sansa’s hair. Chasing after Bran and Arya as they climbed up walls and through windows.

Or when he kissed you in the Godswood, telling you that you were standing on the spot where you would eventually marry.

Lies.

You would never have any of those things again.

“Y/n?” 

You startled at Robb’s voice, wiping away any stray tears and turning around to prepare to face him, hiding your bags behind your back. 

“Yes, your highness?” You responded bitterly as he entered the tent on your response.

“Please don’t call me that. When did you ever get so formal?” He muttered.

“I’ve always been formal to those who require it.”

“I do not require it of you.”

“Your station and our relationship does.”

“You mean our lack of a relationship?” He bit slightly before calming again.

You stood, unmoving, eyes glazing past him as you waited for him to get on with it. He stepped forward and you stiffened.

“I had realized we never spoke about Maege…” He stepped even closer and his hand reached up before you quickly took a step back from him, confused at his purpose and his words. He looked at you with a pained expression at your coldness, and it just made you angry. None of this was your choice. “Your aunt was a great woman,” he began. “I know you loved her deeply, and she looked after you like you were her own. I am truly sorry for your loss.”

Perhaps, under different circumstances, Robb’s condolences may have made you soften. May have had you second-guessing your choice to leave. Now, looking at him, you could hardly recognize the man you once loved. He spoke with the compassion he always seemed to hold within him, yet the way he stood, the way he looked, he had this strange self-righteousness. As if this could save you from your pain… and what of your father? He must not know.

You stood there staring at him before you spoke, in as neutral a tone as you could muster. “We have all made great sacrifices, your highness. I believe my aunt may rest easy knowing her own sacrifice, that of her life, saved countless others.” Unlike you, you thought to yourself. No, he sacrifices others. Not himself. 

Robb wasn’t an idiot, and his expression sunk at your words. “I appreciate every sacrifice that has been made on behalf of the North.”

Sadness and anger were welling up within you, and gods, you wanted to yell at him. You wondered if you could still get away with something like that, yet you simply muttered, thinking of your father, your aunt, the stark girls. “And a great many, indeed.”

“Y/n… do not insinuate that I do not know sacrifice. I have lost as much, if not more, compared to all those here.” 

“Whatever you believe,” you spoke, looking directly into his eyes, “it doesn’t really matter in the end, does it? It doesn’t matter what we’ve lost, it’s already gone.” You turned your head away, willing tears to stay put in your eyes.

“I am sorry.”

You didn’t know what he was apologizing for. “It is what it is.”

“I made you a promise. And I broke it.”

“You did.”

“Why must you always act like it doesn’t matter to you?” He scoffed, frustrated. There was a pause. “Were you.. were you packing up your things to leave?”

You turned to look at your bags on the bed.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, your highness.”

“Don’t call me that, please, for gods sakes. And all I ever wanted was an ounce of pushback from you! We were to be married, and you gave that away so easily, yet now you punish me for it every day because I married Talisa!”

“Robb,” you spoke harshly, stopping his rant, giving him what he seemed to want. An honest response. “You’re right, I am angry with you. Just not for the selfish reasons you think I am.”

“Well if you’re abandoning the war effort, it’s better for me to hear it now before you’re taken prisoner.”

You sighed at his childish threat. “I think you haven’t seen a single thing I’ve done. Of course breaking the engagement mattered to me! How could you not see that? You know how much I loved you, how on earth could you really think I gave that up so easily? Without second thoughts? I did it for you! And you’re so far up your own arse at this point that you can’t even see that! I sacrificed my love for you for the lives of your sisters. For the chance to win this war. Is that not a good enough reason for you? It’s not that you married Talisa, it’s that I agreed to end the engagement while under the impression that it would change the tides of the war. That you would marry a Frey and secure the twins. But you didn’t do that, Robb. And it felt like a knife in my back.” Robb stood a few paces away from you, a hurt expression across his face, one of shame and sadness. “I made that sacrifice for nothing.”

“I love her. That’s why I married her. I loved, I still love, you… I could not marry a woman I did not love. It wouldn’t have been right for either of us.”

“This is not about love, Robb. It is about duty, and honor. I know you believe what you did was honorable, honorable to the sanctity of vows and marriage… but you killed hundreds if not thousands of our men with your choice. Is that worth it to you? Is that truly so honorable, if it meant breaking your promises?”

“We will make it right with the Freys, and pay our debts another way. But you, you broke your promise to me. And now you stand here with your bags packed, is that not breaking your promise, too?”

“I did it for your family! I did it to try to save your sisters, and I did it for you! How can you not see that? And I’m leaving now because my family is in trouble, my cousins just lost their mother and now must rule the island. I’ve given up so much for you, for your family…” You rose your voice in anger, beginning to lose control of your emotions, hands beginning to shake as you tied up your bags.

“Even if they are family, what would your father think of you being a deserter?”

“Do not speak of my father-“ your voice broke, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“If you were under his command he’d have you killed for abandoning your position, y/n,”

“He’s dead, Robb!” You yelled, eyes locking to his, tears dripping from your eyes like spring rain. “My father is dead.”

“Y/n- I didn’t know,” Robb’s face had fallen to one of sympathy, his hand reached out for you, to comfort you like he had so many times in the past. And this time you let his hand reach your shoulder. You stiffly let him protectively put a hand on the top of your head, and pull you into his embrace. After a moment, you relaxed into his warmth, exhaling shakily as the tears kept coming. “I know how much he meant to you. I am so sorry…”

“Robb, you have to let me go,” you whispered, and you knew he understood you meant he needed to let you return home, because his hold around you was maintained. “I don’t have anything left for me here. I want another chance. A chance to be happy. I want to protect and defend my home, and the family I have left.”

“I can’t,” he told you earnestly. “I can’t.”

“You’re married, you moved on… So why won’t you let me?”

“I didn’t, really. I couldn’t.”

“But you did. You can’t take any of it back, Robb. And I know that I can’t either.” You paused to collect yourself before continuing. “Do you want to know how my father died?”

He was silent for a moment before asking, “how?”

“His own men killed him. There was a mutiny.” His grip around you tightened. “My father was an incredibly respected man. And in the end, no matter how much he did right, he did not pay enough attention to what was right in front of him. I don’t think he ever considered just how possible it was that his men would turn on him.”

“The North is stronger than a band of criminals. We have a family name to stand behind, we have bannermen who swore oaths for generations. It is different,” he rationalized, looking down at you. And you looked up, and then, you could remember why you fell in love with him. With his handsome face and dark curls, his fierce yet pragmatic nature, the overwhelming protection, and the way his adoration for you shone through his eyes. The way you could feel it. And your heart hurt, because you thought he might be wrong. His eyes stayed on yours as you spoke.

“Nothing is as strong as it seems, Robb… You just crossed Walter Frey. One of the most selfish men I’ve ever met, the lord of a great river lands house, and of the crossing, which you desperately need for this war… I could be wrong. I could be, but I’ve already lost you. I’ve already lost your sisters. I’ve lost my aunt, who raised me as her own, and I’ve lost my father. I cannot be here anymore. There is nothing for me here, and while I can never forgive you for the choices you made, I also cannot bear to lose more of you than I already have.” 

Robb brought his hands up to your face, brushing the water from your eyes as his own eyes welled with tears. 

“You have to let me go,” you pleaded again, voice barely even a whisper. 

“I know,” he nodded. “At least let me get a horse and supplies for you. Meet me at the eastern edge of the camp.”

And with that, he quickly withdrew his hands, leaving your tent without a second glance.

As you waited, you ensured you had packed everything. You double-checked the items and re-laced your boots before throwing on a warm cloak and stepping outside. The air was growing colder, and with the winds came winter.

You quickly made your way to the edge, and by the tree line you spotted him. Standing with your horse, already saddled.

He was silent when you approached, and could not meet your eye as he took your bags and attached them. He automatically held a hand out to help you mount, but when you took it, he looked at you again. And he truly looked at you. His eyes ran over the details of your face, like he was committing it to memory, and held your hand like a lifeline. He looked at you with sad desperation, pulling you into a hug once more, tucking your head under his chin and holding you so tight you could hardly breathe. When his grip loosened, he placed a tender kiss to your forehead, and within it held every memory, and every touch. 

“You know where to go. Just promise me to be careful. Go quickly, don’t stop for anyone… I love you, y/n.” His voice sounded hoarse, too much emotion behind it to even speak of.

“I love you too, Robb,” you told him, staring deep into his eyes as you cried for what felt like the millionth time that day. “And I am sorry that wasn’t enough.” 

He simply nodded, and helped you onto the horse.

He did not look at you as you fixed the hold on the reins or the lay of your cloak along your back, but as you urged your horse into a galloping pace and you looked back, his eyes were fixed on you.

You knew then that you would always love him, and no matter how lost he made you feel, and while you could never forgive him, you could now move forward. You knew you could find your way.

Whether Robb made it through or not, your situations wouldn’t change. Too much had transpired to ever go back.

You really thought it was just a cold. Just something you’d picked up from an airport while the BAU jet was unavailable for a few days and you all got on a commercial flight to Ohio.

The coughs were small at first. As though there was nothing but a small obstruction to your day to day life. You thought it would wear off quickly, but after a week of cough drops, special tea with honey from Penelope, and following Spencer’s instructions for how best to get rid of a cough, it wasn’t letting up. It was only getting worse as days went on. Everyone told you to get rest over the weekend, so you did.

The following Monday, when you had come in early feeling okay, Hotch came in to find you nearly choking on water in the break room, desperate to get over a coughing fit that left you struggling to breathe. He dropped his briefcase on the floor and rushed over to you, putting your arms over your head to increase your lung capacity and trying to get you to breathe with him. When he finally got you to breathe normally and calm down, he told you to take the day off, and see a doctor when you got the chance. He looked worried, but you knew better than to believe that…

While you usually listened to Hotch, you didn’t like the doctor. And you still felt too upset with him over what had happened a month ago to listen to any advice for your personal life.

You got various texts throughout the day asking how you were, asking where you were, etc. You responded to them but were too tired to hold up a conversation. Penelope brought you dinner, and stayed to eat it with you so you wouldn’t be alone. You appreciated it immensely. After she left, you coughed up blood onto the mahogany floor of your living room. You called in sick the next day, too.

After bouts of coughing and barely leaving your couch, you asked Emily if she’d make plans after work to take you to the doctor tomorrow. She said yes, knowing how much you’d hate to go alone.

Around two in the afternoon that same day, you coughed up a soft blue petal into your palm. Picking up your phone with your non-stained hand, you called Emily.

“Em?” your voice shook as you spoke. “I think I need to go to a doctor today instead of tomorrow. Is-is that okay?”

You could hear her shuffling paper around, and Spencer’s voice was distant in the background. “Y/n, you’re crying,” she said lowly to avoid being heard by everyone nearby. “What happened?”

You’d barely registered the tears running down your face as you stared at the dainty little petal in your hand.

“I coughed up a flower petal,” you whispered, barely able to believe it yourself.

She didn’t speak for a moment.

“Fuck,” she murmured. “I’ll be right there.”

“Please, don’t tell him,” you begged her.

“I need to tell Penelope. She can get me a fake doctors note. And she’s going to want to help, she’ll want to do as much research as she can on it,” Emily rambled.

“Okay, just make sure she doesn’t tell him either. Please.”

“I know, I know. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

She hung up fast, leaving you all alone with your thoughts. With the knowledge that you would die unless you got the surgery, removing both the infection and your memories of him.

God, you felt so stupid. How could you have let yourself fall in love with him?

You got up to wash your hands in the sink, to get rid of the blood, but as you watched that petal circle the drain, the feeling of dread overwhelmed you as you tried to face the facts.

You had Hanahaki disease.

And he didn’t love you back.

*

Emily and Penelope were sitting across the table from you in your apartment the following night, watching closely as you took a sip of your warm tea.

The whole day and the day prior had been spent at several doctors offices and pharmacies as Emily and Penelope both insisted on multiple opinions. You ended up with three different medications for the hanahaki, and one anxiety medication to dull the constant state of panic that you were in.

The doctors said that if you kept taking your medication and kept yourself in good condition without exacerbating your emotional distress, you could do fairly well for a while. It’ll be mostly normal, apart from some coughing fits and some blue flower petals.

Turns out your flower is “scorpion grass,” also known as “Forget Me Nots.” Dainty blue flowers that were said to symbolize true love and respect for someone.

You could practically hear Spencer’s voice in your head as you thought about it. Hiding it from him would be tough. Hiding it from profilers in general would be tough. That’s why Emily and Penelope were trying to get as much information out of you as possible.

“It is Hotch, right?” Penelope asked after a long stretch of silence.

“Penelope!” Emily scolded slightly from next to her.

“What? I just wanted to double check…”

“It’s fine, Pen. It’s fine. But yes,” you sighed deeply, looking down at the table. “It’s Hotch.”

“C-could we tell him? Maybe there’s a chance that he-“

“There isn’t a chance,” you spoke quickly, cutting Penelope off. “He told me himself,” you murmured.

“He what?!” Emily raised her voice and nearly stood up from her chair.

“Remember that dinner party at Rossi’s? A month ago?” They both nodded their heads. “Well, later into the night, Rossi decided he was going to go to bed and told anyone still there that they could stay as long as they wanted. The only people left were Derek, Spencer, Hotch, and me. Derek drove Spencer home not long after that, and Hotch and I were trying to clean up to help out Rossi… I don’t know exactly how it happened, but we ended up on the couch…”

Penelope and Emily were both staring at you in shock as you relived that night. His large hands on your hips, his lips on your neck… How happy you had felt in that moment.

It was no secret that you’d been into him for a long time. There was something so undeniably attractive about him. He was stern yet caring, and he knew when to be authoritative and when to be a friend. When you first joined the BAU, you stuck by him for a lot of your first cases, and he was there for you every step of the way. It was all of the little things he did for you that made you notice. The way he remembered how you liked your coffee, or how he remembered to send you home in time to make it to that restaurant you liked so much before it closed. The way he led you in the field, trying to increase your confidence so you could stand on your own two feet. The way he looked at you as if he’d jump in front of a bullet for you.

You didn’t expect him to feel the same towards you, and when he kissed you that night at Rossi’s, it felt as though everything fell into place all at once. As though you belonged in his arms, and under him, and against his lips…

That was until he made it clear that you didn’t belong there…

“I don’t know what happened… but he just started staring down at me, and he got up like he was in a huge hurry to leave… and he told me that the entire thing was a mistake and that he was sorry,” you finally finished retelling it, your voice getting progressively quieter throughout.

A mistake. To him, you were a mistake.

You could feel a burning in your lungs as tears dropped onto the wooden dining table, and you started coughing. Penelope got up and came over to you, trying to get you to drink more tea. You didn’t manage to catch the coughing fit in time, and a few petals made their way out of your mouth before you could get a drink and calm down again. Penelope rubbed your back with one hand while Emily stayed staring at you from the other side of the table.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” Emily said quietly. “I didn’t… I really thought he…” she sighed, not sure how to finish her thought.

“You could still get the surgery,” Penelope offered.

You took a deep breath, not looking at her. “I could, yeah, but… what would that mean for everyone else? Who would I become?”

“There are some cases where people with the disease can come to terms with their feelings,” Emily spoke. “I know you might be hesitant to get the surgery, but the doctor said many choose not to get it until the disease progresses further. You still have time to decide.”

You nodded at her suggestion.

“I have a condition,” Penelope said. “You have to let us help take care of you. Like when you have to take your meds at work, you can come take a break in my office to do that. You have to let us be here for you and tell us what’s going on. That’s my condition.”

“Okay. I will. I have to take one of them four times a day, so… twice at the office, I guess. The others are either twice a day or once.”

“Take the twice a day then, too, it’ll give me peace of mind,” Emily requested. You agreed.

*

You returned to work the next day. You got in early, and when Hotch arrived, you took a deep breath and went to his office, asking to talk to him for a minute.

“Yeah, no problem,” he said, sitting down at his desk.

“I have a few doctors notes,” you handed him the papers from various doctors stating that you had appointments with them. “The cough isn’t going to go away anytime soon, but it’s not contagious or anything. I’m sorry for missing work.”

Hotch looked at the papers you gave him. “Please, don’t worry about it… but are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said half heartedly. You didn’t mean it at all but it was dismissive enough to hopefully get him to drop it.

“You went to three different doctors,” he said in a concerned tone. “I thought you hated seeing even one.”

“I was sick. Needed a few opinions,” You shrugged, trying to play it off.

He was looking at you like he didn’t believe you. Of course he didn’t. But you were giving him a look that told him to drop the subject.

“I’m gonna go get caught up,” you told him, trying to leave.

“Ok. Thank you. I’m glad you’re back.”

You nodded and left, going down to the bullpen while trying to suppress the itchiness of your throat.

Deep breaths, you reminded yourself.

*

Days passed. You kept your promise to Penelope and would go to her office to take your meds. Emily would usually join you.

The symptoms weren’t getting too much worse. It was relatively easy to hide.

You noticed the weird looks Hotch had been giving you lately, which wasn’t helping with the whole idea of getting over your feelings. He kept looking at you like he cared, like he was concerned, and it was hard to remember that you knew he didn’t.

You knew it was a mistake.

About a week after returning to work, Hotch followed you into Penelope’s office when you went in to take your medications. You didn’t know he had followed you, because he didn’t come in right away. Instead, he came in while you had a number of colorful pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. You quickly downed the pills.

“Hi, sir,” Penelope said hesitantly. Emily was sitting next to her.

“What are you two doing in here?”

Emily and Penelope gave each other the shadiest looks ever, nearly making you groan from how abnormal they were being.

“I have to take medication twice a day, they’re just helping me adjust and remember to take it,” you said calmly.

“Oh, I see,” he said with a short nod. “Is it helping your cough?”

You shifted uncomfortably, unable to look him in the eye. “It’s been mellowing out lately.”

“It’s true, you’ve been coughing less,” Emily said with a fake smile. Penelope nodded next to her.

The tension in the room was so heavy. Everyone could feel it. Hotch knew the three of you were hiding something, and you knew he knew. But he was unlikely to actually ask about it.

*

Two weeks go by. You go on another overnight case. JJ ends up finding out after you cough up a few petals in the precinct bathroom. There were barely any women working there aside from you, JJ, and Emily, so you figured you’d be fine.

It led to a very emotional talk about how worried she is, and how she hopes you’ll open up to the rest of the team. You tell her that Spencer will probably figure it out soon enough, he’s already been giving you odd looks, but you were adamant on not telling anyone else. You didn’t want everyone so worried. Penelope and Emily were helping. JJ had her own family to worry about.

Aside from not wanting people to worry, you also weren’t keen on everyone knowing that you were in love with your boss, or hearing everyone tell you their opinions.

*

Another two weeks go by.

You feel like you have made zero progress emotionally. You have to see Hotch basically every day, considering he’s your boss. Working with him was no way to get over him easily, but you didn’t want to quit. What if you lived, and you couldn’t return to the BAU? It was your dream job. You loved it. What would life be without it?

But if you got the surgery, would you even want to work there anymore, or was it all for him? It felt like your mind was trapped in a never ending spiral.

He’d been a bit more attentive to you lately. It’s as if he senses something is deeply wrong with you. On the last case you went on, he did something he hadn’t done in a while, and paired you with him. Everything was professional, as it had been since that night, but being around him was just so difficult. You felt yourself struggling to breathe.

Spencer started watching you more and more closely. You could feel his eyes on you every time you even slightly coughed.

It felt like the meds weren’t doing as much as they were a month or so ago, when you first started them. You coughed quite often, trying desperately not to annoy everyone else in the office. For the most part, it was just the feeling like your lungs were burning. You’d managed not to cough up any petals in the bullpen, opting to head for Penelope’s office if you felt like the coughing was too intense.

During a particularly rough morning, Spencer practically escorted you to Penelope’s office, leaving briefly to get you more water before returning.

He didn’t even look startled when he came back to see blood dripping out of the corner of your mouth and petals strewn across the floor as you profusely apologized to Penelope from the floor.

Spencer grabbed a tissue from a nearby table and knelt down, joining you on the floor. He handed you the tissue and gave you a tight lipped smile. You took it, and cleaned the blood from your mouth.

“How long have you had this?” He asked gently.

“A little over two months… I found out a month after it started.”

“She’s taking medications for it,” Penelope added.

“Who else knows?” Spencer looked between the two of you.

“Emily, because she took me to the doctors appointments, and JJ found out a few weeks ago after I coughed up petals in the bathroom.” You paused, looking at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Spencer.”

“No, it-it’s okay. Hanahaki is one of those things that is difficult to share. But I’m glad I know now.”

You nodded, looking at the petals on the floor and starting to pick them up in case someone else walked in.

“Scorpion grasses,” Spencer noted, just as you knew he would. “Commonly known as Forget Me Nots.”

“They’re meant to symbolize true love and respect,” you said quietly. Spencer nodded.

“Are- um, are you getting the surgery?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I haven’t been able to overcome it naturally, I don’t know if I’ll be able to… but I don’t know who I’ll become if it’s all taken away.”

Spencer didn’t meet your eyes after you said that. “I know it seems scary, but… I hope you consider it further. Please don’t give up on yourself, y/n,” he said softly.

You just kept picking up the petals off the floor.

*

It’s only a week later that you wake up to a strange sight.

On your upper thigh, a blue flower has bloomed. Dainty green leaves peak out from under it, and the stem goes straight into your skin.

You frantically checked over the rest of your body to see a green leaf sticking out just over your chest.

Fumbling for your phone on the nightstand, you called your doctor.

They told you that you had developed a rare form of Hanahaki. Flowers would grow out of the places that the person you love has touched with their hands.

Your heart dropped. The doctor kept calling your name, trying to see if you were still at the phone or if the connection had dropped, when in reality you just felt frozen in time.

“If you’re still there, I know this might be hard news to hear. Just try to remember to keep calm, if you get too stressed the symptoms can worsen. I really think you should consider coming in and—“

You hung up, cried into your pillow for a solid thirty minutes, put on a pair of pants and found a turtleneck in the closet to hide the flowers and leaves, and got to work a bit late.

As for the development, you didn’t say anything.

They were worried enough. You knew the pressure they were putting on you was just out of worry, but it was so difficult to handle. Everyone wanted you to live. Of course, you wanted to live, too. You always thought it was so irrational whenever you heard of someone with Hanahaki choosing to die. But then you knew the changes that those who decided to live experienced. There was a chance that your memories of Hotch might be removed along with the emotions. You didn’t like that idea at all.

Memories are too important to who you are.

So it was as if the choices were: the current you could choose to die and be reborn as someone else, or you could die as yourself, with your memories and your feelings. It’s not as clear cut as living or dying.

So when someone asked why you started wearing turtlenecks to work, you told them that it was because you kept feeling a bit chilly. If they knew about your condition, you told them that the lack of temperature control in your body was a side effect of the medication.

Though it was getting progressively more difficult to hide throughout an entire day.

The flowers kept trying to grow out of your palms, and were progressing to grow from your chest.

Eventually, you coughed up your first full flower.

It was stupidly beautiful. How could something that was killing you be so beautiful?

Maybe you’d ask to be planted in a garden if the plants overtake you. That way, the death wouldn’t be so grim.

*

Working as a living terrarium was getting progressively more difficult and more complicated. The hiding, the coughing, the medication, the petals that sometimes made their ways out of your clothing…

You were sitting at your desk late one night, barely even registering that everyone else had gone home. Your whole body felt tired from fighting off the plants overtaking your system.

A deep voice startled you from behind.

“Y/n?” You turned around to look up at Hotch, who’s brows were furrowed in concern. “There’s something in your hair…”

“Oh, really?” You asked, brushing the top of your head to get it off.

“Yeah, it looks like a blue piece of paper or something…” Blue? “Here, I can-“

“No!” You quickly covered your head with your hands and moved away as though you’d been electrocuted. “It-it’s fine, I got it. Um… I should really go home. I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.” You quickly gathered your bags and all but ran for the elevator doors, pushing the “close doors” button over and over until they finally shut, leaving you alone in the elevator so you couldn’t see the he hurt expression on his face from you pushing him away.

In the reflective doors, you could see a little blue flower peeking out from under your hair. A tear fell down your cheek.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

*

It was the middle of the night on Sunday when you got a call from Penelope that there was a case.

Half asleep with your throat feeling like it’s on fire, you call Hotch.

“Hotchner,” he answered in his usual stern voice.

“Hey, it’s me. I know we just got a case, but I’m feeling a bit under the weather and was wondering if I could stay back and work with Garcia.”

“If it’s that bad, maybe you should just stay home.” Even though you knew he didn’t know, the coldness and annoyance that you thought you detected in his tone made your heart ache. Was it time to finally give this up?

You sighed. “Maybe you’re right,” you chuckled sadly. “Good luck on this one. Bye, Hotch.”

“Wait, y/n-“

You hung up before he could finish, covering your eyes with one hand.

A new decision was before you now. Resignation, or unpaid sick leave?

You called Penelope and asked her to get you an FMLA form to send to your doctor to fill out.

Your body was growing far too weak to take such great lengths to hide the flowers.

*

Days slowly tick by. Penelope would come to visit fairly often, but it was brief enough to hide the flowers blooming all over your body.

Emily and JJ called you nearly every night to check on you.

Everyone was still out on the case. You guessed it must have been a difficult one.

Your form to take unpaid sick leave for an undetermined amount of time, sighed by you and your doctors, was sitting on Hotch’s desk for when he returned.

Penelope and Emily seemed to be increasingly hostile toward Hotch. They kept complaining about his behavior, about how clueless he is, about how upset they are.

One night you got a particularly odd phone call from Hotch.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he spoke, voice sounding a little shaky.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, not really. It was just a rough case. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Your head instinctively turned to the mirror in your bedroom. You studied yourself, sitting on the floor, surrounded by little blue petals and flowers, a few blood stains accompanying them. There were flowers in your hair and petals on your face, small blooms blossomed out of your wrists and on your thighs above your socks.

“I-I’m okay.”

“Y/n,” he sighed. “I know it’s not my place, but you’re really worrying me. You haven’t- I haven’t seen you smile in months. It’s been forever since I’ve heard your laugh. You’re usually so cheerful, you brighten up the entire office with your optimism. There’s obviously something going on, and no one will tell me what’s happening.”

You could feel your airways being blocked as you felt a pang in your chest. He hadn’t heard you laugh or seen you smile. What does he care?

Why would he say something like that? It was as if it was a statement designed to kill you.

“I-“ you were cut off by a flower making it’s way up through your throat. You harshly coughed it out. “Sorry,” you mumbled when you could finally speak again. “I um… I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know what you want me to say.” Your voice was rough as you spoke.

“I just want you to tell me the truth.”

“I’m.. I’m just sick.”

“Is it serious?”

“I-“

“Answer me honestly.”

“…yes.”

“Are you getting treated?”

Flowers were poking their way through the skin of your palms, growing on your wrists as you stared into your own reflection.

“Yes.”

“Is it going to get better?”

You took a long pause, watching as another flower bloomed next to your phone as you held it in your hand, and another appeared in your hair.

“No,” you sobbed lightly. “It’s not.”

He was silent. After a minute or so of complete silence as you held your breath, you just hung up, unable to take it anymore. He couldn’t pretend to care about it, could he? So he said nothing.

You were dying and he said nothing.

Tears streamed down your face as you covered it with your hands, practically watering the flowers growing from within you, letting them take over. You could feel vines and blooms growing on your thigh, up your arm, out of your chest, inside your throat, against your sides…

Slipping down, laying on your side on the hard wooden floor, you wondered who would find you like this.

You wondered if it would be Penelope, scarring her for the rest of her life and dimming the brightness of her soul, or if it would be Emily, adding to her already long list of traumatic events and making her feel more cynical toward the world she desperately tried not to hate. Or maybe JJ, or Spencer, or someone else.

Your breathing became even more hindered as a flower grew out of your mouth. You could still breathe, but barely, struggling against the leaves and stems twisting and growing through you.

The thought dawned on you that maybe you should’ve gotten the surgery, but you push that out of your mind. Too little too late.

Hours pass as you lay there, struggling to breathe and keep yourself alive. The phone rings a few times, just a little bit too far out of reach. Your fingers twitch, trying to find it next to you, but you give up when you realize that you can’t give a response.

The hardness of the floor made you ache, but after a while, you didn’t notice it anymore. The pain was incomparable to how much the flowers hurt.

The room got significantly darker at some point, the sun must have gone down.

Eventually, you close your eyes, far too tired to be concerned about whether you’ll ever open them again.

*

You are slightly woken by a very loud sound coming from the hall. It sounded like someone was trying to break down your door. Sighing slightly, rattling the stems twisting out of your throat, you let your eyes close again, faintly hearing your name being called.

A few minutes pass until you hear footsteps rapidly getting louder. The door opens, and they come to a stop, pausing there. You wondered who it was, but your body was on the floor next to the bed. Even if you turned around, you wouldn’t be able to see, so your eyes stayed shut.

But then you felt familiar hands on you. Tentative at first, stroking your arm. Then, big and warm, lifting up the top half of your body off of the floor. A hand was placed on your cheek, and you slowly opened your eyes to see Aaron Hotchner looking down at you with tears in his eyes and a desperate look on his face.

“Oh god, oh thank god,” he sighed when he saw your eyes open. “I-I thought you were dead,” his voice broke.

You slightly turned your head to the side, a last ditch attempt to keep him from seeing tears roll down your face.

“Y/n,” his voice was soft. “Please, please look at me.” You slowly did as he asked, your eyes meeting once more as he continued holding you. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I told you that it was a mistake to kiss you that night. I didn’t mean it, I’ve never, ever, thought of you as a mistake. I only said it because I thought it was something you didn’t want, that I was pushing this on you. You’re- you’re so much younger than I am, and you’re kind, and beautiful, and extremely talented… You brighten the entire world while I think I just dim it. I thought I would be holding you back from having the life you deserve if I let myself give in, but I never should have said that. It was stupid of me not to tell you how I feel.” You closed your eyes, feeling a mix of relief and of doubt washing over you, and you didn’t know which of the two would win. He leaned down, and put his forehead against your own. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the very first day I met you. Since I gave you a compliment during your interview and your face lit up, and you told me that it meant a lot coming from someone like me, someone who never said anything they didn’t mean.” When you opened your eyes, you saw that he was still crying, just like you were, as he stared deeply into your eyes. “I only ever lied to you once, and it was the biggest mistake of my life, so please believe me when I say this now,” he breathed. “I’m in love with you, and I can’t lose you. I can’t. I’m so sorry it took me this long to tell you.”

With a trembling hand, you reached up to your mouth, and carefully took out the already-wilting flower that had occupied the space there. His eyes didn’t move from yours as you took a shaky breath.

“I love you too,” you whispered, voice rough. The flowers on your palms were losing their luster, drooping as you moved your hand to his face.

He gently leaned in, and kissed you softly. A lot like he did all those weeks ago.

He helps you pull the dying flowers off of your body, and sits with you as you call Emily and Penelope to tell them that you’re going to be okay.

He gets you off the floor and helps you into bed.

He gets you water and orders dinner for the two of you.

He doesn’t leave your side that night. He helps you as your body slowly regains it’s strength, taking care of you until you can stand on your own.

Even then, he’d never let you go again.

*

One Year Later

You wake up with Aaron’s arm draped over you and your legs intertwined with his.

“Morning,” he mumbles sleepily, seeing that you’re awake. You blink a few times before turning and burying your face in his neck. He chuckled, your nose tickling him slightly.

“I love you,” you sighed happily.

“I love you, too. Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

You pull back slightly to look at him. “One whole year since I scared the hell out of you,” you said in a slightly teasing tone, trying to take away some of the pain that the memory brought with it.

“And the rest of the team,” he adds with his eyebrows raised.

“Well, as long as you’re with me, I don’t think it’ll be happening again..” You giggled and shifted up slightly to kiss him. “Thanks for saving me, sir.”

“Anytime, Princess.”

You blushed and smiled at him before turning your head, hearing a door open. “I think I hear someone getting out of bed down the hall.”

Sure enough, Jack comes bounding into the room you share with Aaron, jumping on the bed and tackling you with a hug.

You and Jack got along so well that after only a few months of dating Aaron, you ended up moving in with him and Jack full-time. While some would say it was fast, you only had eyes for Aaron.

You had never been happier in your entire life than now, spending your days at the BAU and the evenings with Aaron and Jack.

You and Aaron dropped off Jack at school with an extra hug from both of you since he was planning on having a sleepover with one of his friends that night and you wouldn’t see him until the next morning.

Thankfully, the team wasn’t given any new cases, although Strauss and Aaron did have a meeting in his office which made you worry a little. His mood didn’t seem to falter, so you figured the meeting went okay.

The two of you have dinner in a park that evening. The weather was perfect, and the sunset was beautiful. The last flowers of summer were in full force, showing their beauty and color before they wilt.

At some point, when you look over to Aaron, he’s already on one knee, small box in hand. You start crying almost immediately, which doesn’t surprise him in the least, but it makes him tear up a little bit, too.

You can’t even verbalize a response when he asks you if you’ll marry him. You just nod and smile through tears as his face breaks into a huge smile.

Just a year ago, you thought you were going to die alone, becoming fertilizer for the plants that were overtaking your body.