#I just hope to do a better job of responding <3
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Hi folks!
I wanna thank everyone whose submitted asks so far! It’s always nice to chat with you guys and see your wonderful ideas. I just wanted to announce some new rules to prevent overfilling the ask box, preventing some asks from our friends getting answered~^^:
1) Please Refrain from Submitting Off -Topic Drawing Requests (unless explicitly asked) Most requests I’ve gotten so far are totally fine! Topics relating to Persona and Zelda (or other fandoms I’ve previously stated I’m interested in) are all I’m willing to accept for now. I’m so sorry for those that have already submitted some requests. I’d love to do them but my schedule is too full to fulfill all of them fairly, specially for fandoms I have no experience in.
2) Please also refrain from sending overly detailed requests. The reason is obvious, but if you’d really like to have your request drawn, you can request a slot for a commission and I’ll gladly work together with you on it!
3) Please Be Patient! Please do not resend a request or ask if I don’t get to your submission quickly. I have 50+ submissions at a time and it will take a minute to get yours! :)
These rules apply for the time being until I get more time or specifically ask for other requests. Thank you so much for all your sweet submissions thus far! I hope this isn’t taken the wrong way, I just hope to commit the appropriate amount of time to interact with everyone <3
#seriously thank you for all your ask submissions#it’s really fun to see how you guys think and feel about things#I just hope to do a better job of responding <3#peachie asks#peachie mumbles
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all I want in this life is to be important and do a bunch of things, and no one at my current place of work will let me.
#literally cried today because my manager is taking away one of the things I HAVE BEEN DOING FOR 3 MONTHS#I just wanted some guidance on how to respond to an issue!#you have already taken all the other things!!#why are you taking this away from me!!!#so I guess tomorrow I'm going into the office and I'm going to be better friends with another director#in the hopes of getting more jobs. because APPARENTLY THAT'S SOMETHING I HAVE TO DO#no wonder the company has to secretly manipulate you
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hello 😘 aaron hotchner drabble request!
anything with jealousy and possessiveness but in a natural normal way not a joe goldberg way haha
and also - aaron sees you wearing his hoodie/shirt drabble!
thank you and your work is amazing!
pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader
genre: established relationship, aaron is a little (a lot) upset
warnings: misogynistic moron >:( reader wears a skirt, if you get the reference ily
a/n: i wrote it and the more i wrote the more i realised that it... really isn't the same at all :( if you want me to redo it, please send me an ask !! thank you lovely <3
wc: 631
“You would think that he would know by now,” Emily hums, her tone disapproving and mostly disappointed as she watches from a distance as Captain Pembroke attempts to chat you up.
“He’s a captain?” Spencer asks in genuine amazement.
“For NYPD’s major crime unit,” JJ confirms, her arms crossed over her chest. “He tried to hit on Emily a couple days ago, and on Amy from the fourth floor. I wouldn’t be surprised it he has some sort of sealed file on him.”
Emily scoffs a little, rolling her eyes. “Sounds like a charmer.”
“The bigger question is, does Hotch know?” Derek pipes up as he glances in your direction.
“Well…” JJ lets out a nervous laugh. “I kind of hope he doesn’t.”
You offer a curt smile in Pembroke’s direction, doing everything in your power to subtly signal that you really should be leaving. Fiddling with the loose threads of your shirt, averting eye contact, taking tiny steps away in hopes that he’ll somehow get the message. It isn’t surprising that he doesn’t.
“I beat my PR yesterday, you know,” he brags, flexing his muscles. You think you’re about to throw up as he continues, “129. Impressive, right, hun?”
“The average amount of pounds an untrained man can lift is 135,” you respond dismissively in an attempt to lean into Spencer’s way of getting people to leave him alone, but Pembroke doesn’t seem to hear you.
“You know, sweets, I don’t think you should even be in this job. You’re far too foxy,” he says with a wink, “You’d be better in a different job. I mean, women aren’t fit for these types of roles. They get too emotional.”
You refrain from punching his face as it will only prove his point. “Listen, Ken–”
“It’s Keith–”
“Kyle,” you amend with a sickly smile. “I do need to get these files to Agent Rossi, so if you’ll excuse me…”
“Aw, come on, it was only a joke,” Pembroke says with a laugh. “It’ll be fine–”
“There you are.”
You don’t think you’ve ever felt more relieved in your life. Aaron’s hand rests flat against your back, dangerously close to the waistband of your skirt and he stands behind you. Aaron is a good couple of inches taller than Pembroke, especially when he stands at his full height, his dark eyed narrowed and his jaw clenched.
“Did you need something from my agent, Captain?” He asks lowly.
“Just pleasant conversation,” Pembroke responds dismissively.
Aaron raises an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from your uncomfortable frown to the captain’s smug face. “We have three missing women and you are disturbing an investigation by disrupting my agents. I suggest you get your act together before I report you to your superiors for harassment.”
He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, guiding you by the small of your back towards his makeshift office in the New York Police Office. He doesn’t say a word until the door is firmly closed and the blinds are drawn.
“Are you alright?” He asks softly, taking a step towards you and curling his fingers by your cheekbone. “I heard what he said. Do you want me to report it?”
“I’ve dealt with worse.” You don’t mean to sound so honest when you say it and his frown deepens.
“That’s not okay, honey.” Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll report it. You know how it is with cases like these; someone just has to put the first step forward.”
You smile at that, poking at his cheeks. “I thought you were going to hit him.”
“I thought you would’ve beat me to it,” he admits through a quiet laugh, giving you a proper kiss. “We shouldn’t make this into a habit.”
“Tell that to Kimberly.”
“That isn’t even close.”
reblogs are always appreciated!
events page
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#hotch x reader#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner x reader fluff#golden : a milestone event#hotch x reader fluff#criminal minds x reader fluff#hotch#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader angst#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds aaron hotchner#thomas gibson x reader#thomas gibson#thomas gibson fluff#thomas gibson x reader fluff
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oh sweetheart
pairing: boxer! ellie williams x f reader au
word count: 1.9k
rating: 18+
warnings: boxer!ellie, drinking, smoking, cursing, creepy guy but ellie comes to ur defense!! ellie has lots of tattoos, fighting, threats, idk if im missing anything (no character description or anything specific)
summary: you didn't expect to meet her on this night out.
authors notes: hi friends! this is my first time writing and posting on here hopefully you enjoy, please reblog, like or follow! lets be mutuals :) anyways feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated! ellie williams has me on my hands and knees!!! i hope you enjoy! i like the idea of making this a series if it works out and ppl like it, so pls let m know!! thank you :)
PART 1 | part 2
series masterlist <3
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
loud. everything is loud. the smell of sweat and blood stains the air around you. the sounds of people cheering and shouting towards the center of the large room. the lights are buzzing above you as you are walking into the entrance of the shitty run down gym your brother, jesse, and his girlfriend, dina, ended up dragging you to tonight.
you didn't mind coming along with him but this wasn't what you expected to be doing tonight. after a long shitty week of unpacking your new apartment, you kinda just wanted to end up a hole in the wall bar and drink your stress away but he had other plans. which including watching grown men beat the shit of each other for their cut at the end of the night.
it was intimidating, walking through the crowds of people you didn't know until you finally make it to where his friends were waiting for you guys. they were sitting at a table with a clear shot of the fight which was surprising since the whole place seemed to have more people in it then it could fit. you make your way awkwardly to the empty seats saying a gentle "hello guys" to your brothers friends who you didn't knowl. you sat next to dina as jesse made his way to the bar with your drink orders.
after you graduated highschool, you moved to new york and spend 4 years there working in a small cafe you lived above but now at the start of the summer, still not sure what you should be doing with your life. now you're 22 and you've moved to the city of jackson to be closer to your older brother and his girlfriend. you were excited to start fresh in a place where no one knew you yet, you were ready to leave your old life and those toxic things in the past. but you wondered if it was even possible.
you spend the next hour talking with dina and catching up on the things that have happened since you moved, "have you started looking for jobs yet?" she asked as you both sipped on the second drink of the night that jesse went and brought back a bit ago. you've only met a couple times in person since they started dating about 2 years ago but you loved her, she was making this night a lot better. "not much luck yet, i don't know what to do, luckily i have some time to figure something out." you responded. she went to say something but then the loud speakers around the room started blaring music and the countdown to the match that was about to start.
jesse tapped dinas shoulder to go watch with the rest of them. dinas eyes met yours and asked, "are you coming up?" you started getting nervous as the people started getting louder and crowding towards the center ring and told her that you'll stay here and watch. they both nodded and said they'd be back when it was over.
you took this opportunity to finally go get some fresh air since the crowd isn't all over anymore and it was a straight shot to the door you came in, you walked over to the side of the building, definitely feeling the drinks you had, you let your back rest against the concrete wall, finally cooling you down on this hot summer night. there's people standing outside talking but they payed no attention to you. you stayed against the wall as you pull out the cigarette pack from the pocket of your thin dark green jacket and the lighter out of your back pocket in your jean shorts. you cursed yourself for not buying more but its a bad habit and you know it. you pulled one out and put it in your lips as you brought the lighter up and took a drag, finally letting the anxiety go as you stared off into the sky.
"excuse me miss, you shouldn't be out here alone, a beautiful girl like you," a man with a rough voice said but you didn't move to look, suddenly wishing you never left your apartment to begin with, "hello i'm talking to you, its not nice to ignore people, ya know," he slurred his words as he spoke. you turned your head as you went to tell him to leave you alone but instead, he was standing in front of you before you knew it you dropped your smoke and now he's practically cornered you.
he was so close you could smell the alcohol on his breathe as he spoke again, "now are you gonna talk to-" you leaned away from him as he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening a few feet away, he looked towards it but then turned back to you just as quick, almost touching you as he went to speak again but he was beat to it.
"get off her." you didn't even realize the door had opened until you heard her.
the man looked back towards the door to the figure in the light, he squinted and when he got a good look, he suddenly backed off and put his hands up. "hey hey i wasn't doing nothin- it was nothing!" he shouted back to whoever was next to the still open door, light shining into the alley.
the door slams and the light fades as the figure walks closer towards you and your eyes meet the deep green eyes of the person who just saved you as she turned to the man who was just cornering you against the wall.
"it doesn't look like nothing, i mean, really? you're fucking joking right?" she questioned him as she looked him right in the eyes.
"i said it was nothing- she was flirting with me and-" he was cut off as she laughed loudly. "yeah you're full of shit, get the fuck out of here and don't let me see you again or you'll regret it." she said as she stepped closer towards him, almost at the same height, he looked scared of her. "okay, okay- fuck 'm leaving!" he slurred one last time as he turned around and headed the opposite way of the run down gym.
you stood there as the interaction happened, not sure what to do or say yet, you were silent as he walked off, and those green eyes met yours again and you saw her lips moving as she was speaking but you caught nothing she said. "hey, you okay there?" she asked you as she went to stand in front of you, looking you up and down, checking if you're psychically okay while she gave you a second to process before she asked you again.
"hey sweetheart, you okay?" she asked and grabbed your arm, not in a way that the man would have but like she was actually making sure you were okay, and this time you finally heard her.
"h- yes im okay, just- fuck- yes thank you." you said finally getting a good look at her now that she's up close and touching you. her eyes were greener than you thought, her short auburn hair with some pulled back into a bun, the big moth tattoo wrapped around her right forearm that was still holding onto yours, other tattoos littered her arms and some poking out under her t-shirt she was wearing. she was so close to you and it sent butterflies through your body. now is not the time, you thought to yourself.
"are you sure- 'm sorry that happened, fuck him." she said roughly, not towards you but him.
"its okay, thank- thank you for helping me" you said gently to the girl who was still looking into your eyes. you had been so focused on hers that you didn't even see the tiny scars, small healing cuts and the bruises that were fading until you looked over her face again.
"yeah of course, are you here alone?" she asked you curiously still holding on to you, you weren't even phased by it. you told her you were here with your brother and she nodded her head towards the door, "lets get you back to him before anything else happens sweetheart" she said as she guided you to the door, hand on your back, as you swallowed and went first.
suddenly all the sounds that you had not realized you had been blocking begin again, smells of the sweaty bodies surround you again and you felt too hot, either because of her or the summer heat trapped in here. once you made it inside, she moved her hand off the small of your back and told her to go find your brother and to get home safe. when she walked away, you realized you didn't even know her name.
you saw dina, sitting along with a few of jesses friends and made your way over to her. the match must've ended while you were outside. you walked through the gym to sit back down, moving carefully to avoid touching anyone. once you made it to the table, dina wondered where you had ran off too. "oh just went out to get some fresh air," you said back to her smiling, not wanting her to worry. she told you jesse went to get more drinks and after the encounter outside, you needed it.
jesse came back a few moments later, holding a round of shots for you three. "here you ladies go," he spoke with a happy look on his face. you smiled slightly back and took the glass as dina laughed at him. you took the shot, trying to forget what happened outside with the man but not what happened with her. you wondered if you would see her again. is she here to watch? could she work at the bar? is she here with friends too? your thoughts were interrupted by an announcement over the speaks that the final match was gonna start soon.
dina and jesse were telling you, "its the last one tonight and the last ones are always the best so lets go!" you would rather sit and order another drink, but what if something else happened cause you were alone? so reluctantly you got up with them and got closer to the middle ring, you heard the loud speakers announcing the boxers as they entered the ring. you weren't even paying attention, nothing could stop your mind racing with thoughts about the girl outside.
you shake yourself out of the trance when dina reaches over to you to touch your hands that were shaking but you didn't even realize, you look to her and give her smile that she returns, then she looks back to the ring and you turn your head to follow her eyes to the center. and your breathe caught.
thats her.
thats the girl who saved you outside.
the girl with her hands wrapped in tape and the mouthguard in.
the girl who wondered if she'd ever see you again either, not that you knew that, but she hoped it wasn't the last time.
you wondered what she thought as you both stared back at each other. you heard the coach start the countdown. you just watched her.
...5
...4
...3
...2
as the buzzer started, she smiled directly at you then turned to throw the first punch.
#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x reader#pedro pascal#ellie williams#the last of us#tlou2#tlog#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie x fem reader#joel and ellie#ellie williams fic#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams series#joel tlou#thot4elleific
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On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)
Male Reader x Kim Minji
Length: 3128 words
Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji
TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)
Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-
(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)
"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?"
Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.
"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch.
“Who is helping you, who is he?"
"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches.
"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.
"I can't fail this."
Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.
"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."
"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"
"You really want this, Minji?"
"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen. Why do you—"
"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."
"Thank you so much, Unnie!"
"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—"
Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice:
"Never try to get between him and me."
#
"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.
"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."
"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure."
You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking.
Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.
"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."
"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"
"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.
"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"
"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.
"Get on your knees."
"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?"
You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?”
“H-how did you know—?”
“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."
Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it?
Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.
"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"
A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes.
"—I'll fulfill your desires."
Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.
Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.
"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."
You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.
The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?
"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.
"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."
"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"
You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—
"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."
—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.
You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom.
"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"
"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."
"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."
Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."
"Oh,
"You call this nothing?"
You tsk and slap her face with your cock.
"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!"
You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.
"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—
The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.
"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.
"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me."
Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.
She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink:
The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.
You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.
"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.
"Yes, Master."
"Then you know what you have to do."
"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."
"Can you do that?"
Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock.
Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.
"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."
You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach.
"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—"
But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge.
"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”
She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career.
And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking.
Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.
"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."
Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."
"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."
"Yes, Master."
"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.
"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."
Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—
"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"
You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.
Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.
"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."
"M-Master, I..."
"Shut the fuck up.
"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."
#kpop smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#male reader insert#male reader smut#newjeans smut#newjeans minji smut#minji smut#kim minji smut
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YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG pt. 2
MDNI, this is NSFW content for adults!!
pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai
Fukuzawa
ok this one you did NOT expect. you've seen dazai get a hard-on at work, you've heard junichiro and naomi (NOT siblings though they grossly pretend to be) talking about their sex plans after work, but YOUR BOSS? THE PRESIDENT??
he's in his office palming his boner through his clothes when you open the door. you come in like always, using your shoulder to hold the door open as you turn and come in backwards so that the tray of tea you're holding doesn't get knocked over by thumping against the door.
you're almost across the room to his desk by the time you realize that there's a VERY DISTINCT tent in his yukata that he can't decide if he should push down with his hand or not--either way it's obvious that he's hard.
his face is flushed, he's shocked, embarrassed, and extremely apologetic.
you're frozen for a moment, but when he says your name and "i'm so sorry" you decide to pretend like you don't see anything. you put the tray down on his desk, pour him a cup of tea, and tell him to page for you if he needs anything.
you close the door behind you and have to take a moment to gather yourself. he's your boss so there's absolutely no way you were about to come onto him, but god he's so kind and handsome and his deep voice is just so fucking hot. you feel like a creep being there while he was trying to have a private moment, but he was at work, he should have known better than to touch himself when you were scheduled to bring his afternoon tea-- wait, did he do it on purpose? should you go back in? no. no he wouldn't have done that. it must have been an accident.
you tell yourself it must have been an accident and go back to work like nothing happened, though it's all you can think about all day.
Kunikida
he desperately needs to relieve stress after an incredibly tiresome and busy week. he just got back to his dorm, looking forward to two days off work. he wastes no time settling onto his couch, cracking open his laptop, and playing a random porn video (it helps him get the job done more efficiently because watching makes him cum faster)
he uses earbuds so he doesn't disturb his neighbors, unfortunately this means that while he's in the midst of it he doesn't hear you unlocking his door (he gave you the key for emergencies because you're responsible--you occasionally drop groceries off to him if you're making a trip out and he needs something, much like is happening right now)
you open the door and there he is, vest and shirt unbuttoned, pants and boxers pulled down just enough to get his cock out. one hand works over his length steadily while the other cups his balls. you gasp and drop the bag of groceries, turning and slamming the door closed behind you.
his eyes were closed, though, so he didn't notice until the slam of the door echoed past the sound of the video he watches. when he sees the bag on the ground he immediately knows what must have happened and he's so fucking embarrassed that he feels sick. he hopes you don't think he did it on purpose; he couldn't have known you would come over right now.
he tries to go to your dorm a few hours later, but you don't answer when he knocks, and you don't respond to his texts all weekend.
on monday in the ADA office he waits until you're the only two in the room, then he quietly approaches you and says he owes you an apology.
"for what?" you ask, playing dumb.
"i suspect that when you came by my dorm to drop something off you may have seen me doing something inappropriate. i sincerely apologize that you had to see that. i had no idea you would be coming over."
you take a few seconds to think of what to say, but eventually settle on "it's not inappropriate to touch yourself, kunikida. you're an adult, you can do what you want in your own home"
he blushes deeply, feeling warm all the way to his toes.
"that may be so, but regardless, i apologize that you had to see it. i hope we can forget about this soon."
"oh, I'll never forget," you say wistfully, turning away in your spinny chair. "it's burned into my eyes. every time i close them, there you are......."
Dazai
he's on the roof of the ADA building, lying in the middle instead of near the edge. he's staring up at the sky, pondering how small he is in such a vast universe.
and then he gets a random surprise boner and thinks, well i might as welllll.......
you were downstairs working when kunikida asked you to find dazai and make him go back to work. dazai tended to listen to you, after all.
you checked all of his usual spots--the couch, under his desk, under atsushi's desk, in the supply closet, in the cafe downstairs, and finally you went to the roof, hoping he wasn't sitting a hair's width from the edge again like he was the last time you found him up there.
when you open the door, you first notice that he's spread out on the ground with his head turned away from you and think maybe he's passed out--then you notice his hips buck up into his hand and his back arch up a little.
the wind carries the sound of his voice over to you, and you swear he just said your name.
"dazai?" you say meekly, and his head whips to the side, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you. he sits up quickly, turning away from you, using his coat to cover his crotch.
"um... kunikida... he wanted me to find you."
"...okay... please don't tell him what I was doing."
"I really, genuinely won't."
"...okay... do you, um... are you, um... did you hear what i, uh.. what i said when you... got here..."
"yeahhh..."
"shit..."
"hm... i didn't know you were into me, honestly," you say, shrugging.
"oh, yeah," dazai says, feeling very vulnerable since you caught him with his literal pants down. "ranpo told, like, everyone. i'm surprised you didn't, um... you didn't know?"
"no, i didn't know... i think you're cute, for what it's worth."
"oh?"
"yeah. you know, maybe we could talk about this another time? i don't feel like this is the most appropriate setting for this conversation."
"agreed... wait, so you're not, like, gonna run to HR or something, or-- i have a chance?"
"yeah, you have a chance. you're a fucking disaster, though..." you turn back to the door, but throw one more sentence over your shoulder. "oh, and dazai, you know we don't have an HR department."
#bungo stray dogs smut#bungo stray dogs x reader#dazai x reader#dazai smut#dazai headcanons#bungo stray dogs headcanons#fukuzawa x reader#fukuzawa smut#fukuzawa headcanons#kunikida x reader#kunikida smut#kunikida headcanons#mdni#i live for DISASTER dazai
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Restless Dreams
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream
word count: 3.6k
a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus
“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.
“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”
You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.
It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted.
Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.
“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.
“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”
“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.
A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.
“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser.
He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.
“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.
“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”
“I better,” you grumble with a smile.
“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”
“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.
“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.
“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.
“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”
“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.
The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.
Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.
Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.
And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.
Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.
Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.
You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.
Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.
He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.
It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.
He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.
His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.
He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.
Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”
But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.
He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.
At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.
You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.
It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.
“Please.”
He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.
You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.
Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.
He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.
In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture.
You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.
In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.
You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.
“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.
More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.
Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.
The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.
“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.
“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.
“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.
“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.
“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.
You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.
You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.
“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.
You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.
You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.
“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.
Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.
The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.
“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.
His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.
“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.
“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”
Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.
“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.
He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.
You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.
His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.
“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”
As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.
He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.
“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.
Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.
He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.
“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”
You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.
“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”
He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.
“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.
“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.
He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.
“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”
“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.
“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.
You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.
He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.
“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.
“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.
He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.
After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.
“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.
“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”
“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.
That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#resident evil imagines#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy imagine#resident evil smut#smut
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Tim having a younger girlfriend who gets princess treatment from him, she very obviously in love with Tim, and nobody at the station believes he has a girlfriend, so one day she shows up and work and everyone gets to see and meet her and see just how much she has Tim wrapped around her finger <3
Sorry if it doesn't make sense
puppy love - tim bradford
{ masterlist }
🪐: hopefully this lives up to what you were thinking!! i did my best to capture all the main elements that you wanted in the story <33
word count: 1039
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Tim was notorious for being a hardass, his rough demeanor and strict ways of teaching made him seem like a total douchebag, for lack of a better word.
However, for you, he was a ball of sunshine, just don't let anyone else know that.
Tim was awoken to the deafening sound of his alarm clock, he looked over at the red numbers, the clock reading “6:00am”, he sighed and reached a hand over to turn the blaring sound off. He turned over at the movement of your sleeping body, his hand now brushing through your hair with a small smile on his lips, waking up wasn't so bad when he got to see your face every morning.
You woke up gently at the new warmth that was on your head, “do you have to leave today?” you whispered with annoyance, one eye looking at him while the other stayed shut hoping to retain some sleep “unfortunately i do, baby, but i'll be home in time for our date” he responds, leaning over and kissing your forehead.
He gets out of bed and heads for the closet putting on his uniform, once he’s done getting ready he reaches for his duty belt and gun that he keeps in his nightstand. Finally he leans over to give you one last kiss goodbye, “i love you, i’ll text you on break” you felt his lips move, “i love you too, be safe and come home to me” you respond as he walks out of the room gently shutting the door.
You shortly go back to sleep to get extra shuteye before having to go to your 9:00 am psychology class.
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Tim made it to work early, going into the locker room and putting his duffle bag full of extra clothes and little snacks that you had snuck in there “just in case”, once he left the locker room he made his way to the debriefing room. “Hey Tim, you still owe me the 13 bucks for that burrito i bought you last week” Angela points out, while walking in behind him “ah right” he groans pulling out his wallet simply forgetting the little photo he kept of you in there.
The photo fell on the ground as Tim pulled out the cash, Angela reached down holding the picture “who is that?” she wonders while looking at the piece of paper “my girlfriend” he responds while holding out the $13, “you? You have a girlfriend?” she jokes “yeah, and i'm a millionaire” she finished sarcastically and walked away to sit down in her seat.
Tim just silently rolled his eyes and put your photo back in the safety of his wallet, after Grey gave his briefing, Angela and Nyla both started talking about Tim’s “girlfriend” the others overheard and suddenly everyone knew about Tim’s private life.
“Tim has a girlfriend?” Lucy questioned, while walking over the group and grinning. “That’s what he claims, when he was paying me back a photo slipped out of his wallet and when i asked who it was he said it was his girlfriend, but i don't know who would torture themselves like that” she explained, Nolan had his eyebrows raised “come on guys, Tim can’t be that bad” Nolan continued “he probably just doesn't like us” he smiled making the others laugh.
“Okay! Are you guys ready to stop being a bunch of highschoolers and gossiping about my love life so we can, I don't know, do our job?” Tim dead panned, they all quietly snickered, and some started getting ready to head out.
Tim heard the faint call of his name, and fast feet, “Tim! you forgot your lunch!” you spoke quickly while softly jogging towards him. “That’s what i forgot, thank you baby” Tim mentally smacked himself for forgetting the meal you had prepared for him the night before. You smiled at him, rushing as you had to get back to the campus as you had a final in 45 minutes.
Everyone looked slightly gobsmacked, realizing that Tim was in fact not lying about having a girlfriend, Angela came up to the love sick couple, “so you’re the pretty lady Tim keeps in his wallet” she spoke with playfulness, “you must be Angela! Tim talks about you all the time, im (Y/N)” you introduced yourself with a big smile. Tim smiled at you with all the love in the world, looking at you while you introduced yourself to his friends and colleagues.
“As much as i would absolutely love talking to you guys more, i have a really important test i have to go take” you explained with haste, everyone was extremely understanding and wished you good lucks, “One last thing, Tim, before you come home will you please pick up milk from the store? I used it all this morning” everyone looked at Tim awaiting his response “Yes ma’am” he complied, you kissed his cheek and gave everyone a last goodbye before leaving.
“Man she has you utterly whipped” Aaron spoke, while shaking his head, “yeah, you are so done for sir” Celina giggled. Tim looked at both of them with a stern face immediately making them shut up and get back to doing whatever they were doing.
“I'm glad you found someone Tim, you deserve a good person” Lucy quietly mentioned, Tim gave a silent nod of acknowledgement letting Lucy know that what she said meant a lot to him as she left and continued on with her duties.
Tim carried on with his day, doing paperwork, and counting the minutes until he came home to you.
Once he got off of work, he made sure he picked up milk and even got you you're favorite snack, as soon as he got home you two made dinner together and sat at the kitchen table, you told him how you’re very sure you passed your final with flying colors, and he told you about the mountains of paperwork that made him wish he was in bed watching a stupid reality show with you instead.
When it was time for bed you and Tim continued to talk about random thoughts, and your futures together before you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.
#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford#the rookie#tim bradford fluff#tim bradford x you#tim bradford x younger!reader#reader insert
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Uh, can I request a dark!ethan with quinn's scene in the bathroom but instead of her being the reader, where gf!ethan is waiting for her to fuck her w non-con. Thank you!
hope it is understood, English is not my first language
Rejected (Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader)
A/N: Oh spicy! Yes, pretty sure I understand you! I hope this is to your liking, I changed some stuff from the scene in the movie. Danny doesn't see ghostface in the room. Went a little darker toward the end (oops) Thanks Anon <3
Pairing: Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader
Summary: After rejecting Dark!Ethan when he asks you on a date, he's angry enough to kill. So he does just that, he kills your hookup and fucks you after. READ TAGS!
Warnings: NON-CON,SMUT, Dark!Ethan Landry, Ghostface Ethan Landry, fem!reader, Murder, Choking, Unconscious reader, Dacryphilia, Possessive!Ethan, Jealous!Ethan, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, marking, biting, Face Slapping, slight slut-shaming. Don't read if uncomfortable with dark themes, other than that ENJOY!! 🥀
Banner by @straywords 🥀
Ethan has been obsessed with you from the moment he met you. Whenever he would come over to the apartment you shared with Sam and Tara, he would watch you so intensely, some of the times you noticed but it didn’t bother you too much, but it made you a little uneasy.
His eyes were so dark and fierce you felt like your skin might set ablaze. His eyes never leave you when you all hang out. All that ran through his mind was wrapping his hands around your neck watching you shiver under him as he forced himself in you. He wanted to look into your fearful eyes and see sweet tears running down your pretty face.
About a month ago, Ethan mustered up the courage to ask you on a date, you giggled at his shy attempt to ask you out and rubbed his face, telling him you only see him as a friend. Those words haven’t left his mind since only playing on repeat as he laid in bed every night.
It was late in the evening, The house lively with the gang spending time together in the kitchen, completely distracted from what was going down in the other room.
That was perfect for Ethan, he was preparing for his attack, hiding away in your closet. He was ready to kill the loser who just fucked you in two pumps leaving you disappointed and needy for more. Ethan was seething with rage because what the fuck did this fucker have that he didn’t? The fucker didn’t even make you cum. His cock half hard thinking about what he wanted to do to you. The fucker went into the bathroom leaving you alone in the bedroom. You slipped your nightgown back on and pulled out your phone, turning to the side. Ethan couldn’t wait anymore.
“Babe, you coming to join me?” The guy yelled from the bathroom; you met him earlier that night at a frat party, he was cute, and you were drunk. You put your phone down for a second to respond “No and don’t use my face wash it’s pH-balance for women” you yell, “yeah whatever you say” he yells back. You go back to your phone, giggling at the video you were watching. Unaware of the dark figure looming over you, after a few seconds of Ethan running his eyes over your figure, his fingers twitching desperately wanting to touch you. He slipped out of your room to kill that loser in the bathroom.
Ethan finished the job, he sighed out, fuck it felt good to kill that alpha fucker who was a two-pump chump. But what he had planned next would feel even better. Ethan slipped back into your bedroom quietly to not disturb you. You hadn't moved from your position. Ethan leaned over you in a quick motion, hand over your mouth, all his bodyweight pinning you to the bed the blade was at your neck, the slightest pressure pushing into you.
Your eyes widen, you gear up to scream as you meet the big dark eyes of Ghostface. You started to cry, Ghostface just stared down at you, his hand tight on your face. You screamed against his hand, your body shaking with fear, you were going to be killed. Ghostface shook his blade in your face, shutting you up instantly.
Ethan smiled under the mask; happy his plan was playing out perfectly. His cock was hard and leaking already. You looked even more perfect than he pictured late at night when had his hand wrapped around his hard cock, getting off to the thought of you. Your eyes were puffy and red, your tears couldn’t stop falling. Ethan took his blade and ran it down your short nightgown, tearing it in half and exposing your bare body to him, your breathing started to speed up at the realization of what was about to happen.
You heard a quiet moan from Ghostface, your blood running cold. “Scream and I'll kill all your fucking friends in the kitchen” Ethan said in the Ghostface voice making you shiver. You couldn’t let your friends die because of you. You shook your head quickly. Ethan took his hand from your mouth to squeeze one of your boobs he leaned his head down to your neck, rutting against your core, it took everything in you to not throw up at the feel of his hands exploring your body and the heavy breathing in your ear made your stomach turn.
Once Ethan got his feel, his free hand moved down to your wet pussy, his gloved hand stroking all over. Ethan was surprised how wet you were, and it was all for him. Ethan hovered over you to get a better look at your wet core. Ethan let go of the knife to remove his gloves. He had to feel you properly against his skin. He returned his hand rubbing your clit, you let out a soft hum, Ethan snapped his head up to see your face. It was exquisite, your face twisted like you were trying to hold back your pleasure.
That twisted his desire to get you to make more pretty noises for him. He wanted to hear you cry out, with that he pushed his fingers deep into you, hard and fast. You let out a broken moan, whimpering for him to stop. “p..please stop, please” you pant, with your lips quivering. Ethan let out a half laugh. “Why would I stop when you feel so good?” he said rutting faster and making circles on your clit with his thumb, determined to make you cum...hard. “Fuck you feel so good y/n” Ethan moaned your name lewdly. Your eyes widen, your thoughts running a mile a minute now, trying to think who the fuck this was. You didn't have much time to think, your fear and arousal ramping up to another level, your orgasm threating to crash down on you.
Your legs start to shake, your back arches against him your chest raising, and he takes his other hand and grabs your boob squeezing so tight, he pinches your nipple, rolling it with his fingers. He wanted to bring your tit into his mouth and suck hard on your hard nipple.
You clenched down hard on his fingers, he’s breathing deep into your ear, encouraging you on. “Good girl, cum on my fucking fingers” Ethan growled into your ear. You came down from your high, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Between the crying and the orgasm that had you shaking uncontrollably you couldn’t keep your eyes open.
Your head whipped to the side, your cheek stinging. “Wake up, we are not done yet” Ethan growls. His cock was painfully hard now, he needed to be inside you. Your eyes fluttered, Ethan grabbed your neck tightly he whimpered softly, fuck he wanted to do that all night. Ethan releases his hard cock with his free hand.
Your panic hits you like lighting you tried to squirm out of his grip but that only made Ethan more excited. He lines his cock up with your slit, Ethan rubs his cock up and down on your wetness. In one quick thrust, Ethan forces himself in you, he lets out a low moan, steadying himself, he felt like he was going to burst inside you. Ethan almost couldn’t contain himself and thrust hard a few times, this is the first time Ethan felt pussy this good, the only time, actually.
His hands choked you hard with each rock of his hips. “Fuck, you know how long I wanted to stick my cock deep Inside you?” Your head feels light, and you are barely able to register what he’s saying to you.
You reach up to tear his hands away, but you couldn’t find the strength. “Your pussy is fucking mine, only for me” Ethan pants as he drags his cock against your hot walls. “You’re so tight, I feel like I'm tearing you apart.” You could hear the smile in his voice, each word dripping with lust.
“I c-can’t-” you choke out before you feel yourself fading into unconsciousness. Ethan didn’t let go of your neck for a few seconds, watching you fall limp under him. Ethan pulled his mask off throwing it to the ground. Sweat beating down his face, his hair a wild mess. He stops his movement for a second hiking your knees to your chest so he can fuck deeper into your slick hole.
The only sounds that filled the room were Ethan’s desperate moans and groans and the wet sounds of him fucking sloppily into you. He kissed your lips roughly, moaning into your mouth. “You’re mine, you’re mine, all for me” Ethan chanted darkly. He moved his lips to your neck sucking and kissing the marks he left on you. He was so close; he couldn’t hold back anymore.
Ethan roughly grabbed your hips, making your back arch. He was gripping so tightly he definitely left marks. “Fuck baby, take my cum you little slut” Ethan pumped in you harshly one last time letting out a deep moan as he spilled inside you. Ethan slowly pulled out of you, watching your slit dip his cum.
Ethan kissed your lips softly, roaming his hands all over your soft limp body one more time. Finally, he sits up, tucking you under the covers. Ethan kisses your forehead and puts his mask back on before fleeing the room. You were out cold, breathing softly and completely unaware that your shy friend Ethan had attacked you and you never will know.
#Dark!Ethan Landry#Smut#Scream 6#ethan landry imagine#request#Ethan Landry smut#dark fic#tw noncon#Ethan Landry one shot#Non-Con#rough smut#bad time for reader#tw r4p3#gf! Ethan Landry#ghostface fanfiction
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I love your writing it’s amazing! A request slightly NSFW could be that reader is preggo and naturally big chested and towards the end her milk comes in ealry so driver helps out by massaging them, putting hot towels and stuff and just trying to make her comfy!
Carlos Sainz x reader
hiii!! thank you so much, that means so much to me!! i love you guys!<3 I have chosen Carlos as the driver, he's just yummy - I hope this is okay! I made it slightly NSFW like you requested but I honestly haven't written loads of smut so it may not be the best!
Send in your submissions!
18+ do not interact!
You sat on the edge of the bed, your swollen belly a testament to the new life growing inside you. Pregnancy had brought many changes, not least of which were the significant changes to your chest. Your breasts had grown considerably, and now, nearing the end of your pregnancy, they had become tender and full, leaking small drops of milk occasionally.
Carlos walked into the room, his eyes immediately softening as they landed on you. He had been incredibly supportive throughout your pregnancy, always attentive and caring. He noticed the discomfort etched on your face and immediately moved to your side.
"Hey, querida," he said, his voice filled with concern. "You look uncomfortable. What's wrong?"
You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and exhaustion. "My breasts are so sore, Carlos. And they've started leaking. It's really uncomfortable."
Carlos's brow furrowed with worry, but he quickly composed himself. "Let me help you with that," he said gently.
He disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few moments later with a bowl of warm water and a couple of towels. Sitting beside you, he soaked one of the towels in the warm water, wrung it out, and carefully placed it over your chest. The warmth spread through your aching breasts, providing a soothing relief.
"How's that?" he asked, his hands resting on your shoulders.
"It's better," you replied with a grateful smile. "Thank you."
Carlos's hands moved to massage your shoulders gently, his fingers working out the tension that had built up. He then shifted his focus to your breasts, his touch gentle and careful as he began to massage them. You let out a small sigh of relief as the pressure eased.
"You're amazing," you murmured, leaning into his touch.
Carlos smiled, his eyes full of love and devotion. "Anything for you, mi amor. You and our baby are the most important things in the world to me."
As he continued to massage your breasts, you felt a mix of relief and a surprising amount of arousal. The combination of his tender touch and the intimate nature of the situation stirred something within you. Carlos seemed to sense this, his eyes darkening slightly as he noticed your reaction.
"Are you feeling better, mi amor?" he asked, his voice a little huskier than before.
"Yes," you replied, your voice soft. "Much better."
His hands moved down slightly, as you shut your eyes and let your head fall back onto his shoulder, you back against his chest. "Por favour papi," you moaned slightly as his hands went down towards your nipples, rubbing over them slightly, not wanting to apply too much pressure.
"So sensitive, mama. Doing such a good job of keeping are baby safe, growing their milk, doing so good." He praised, now pinching your nipples, making you respond in a moan, a feeling of both sensitivity and pleasure rushing through you. Carlos began kissing your neck, brushing your hair back as he did so.
"Gonna be the best mama, so lucky, can't wait to get you pregnant over and over again. Can't wait to fuck you until you're full again."
#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#f1 smut#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1 x reader#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz smut#smut#charles leclerc imagine
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Hey I saw that you wanted ideas for some angst, thought I would shoot my shot. What if one of or all of them idk you choose the boys calls reader clingy and reader gets insecure about it. It's okay if you don't feel like it tho. Take care of yourself and drink lot's of water❤️❤️ I'm new to your blog but I really love your work hope to see more of it in the future❤️❤️❤️
CLINGY
cw - non idol!minho x gn!reader, angst (😈), swearing, fluffy ending, hurt comfort kinda
wc- 1.1k
a.n - IT’S DONE !! i am exhausted but hey it’s out 😭😭 anyway i’m sorry for being a bit MIA lately, i’ve been having a bit of a rough time but it’s getting better. i’m not sure if i like this piece or not tho :((( I LOVE YOU MUAH <3
AND I JUST REALIZED THIS IS MY FIRST LINO FIC OMG THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY
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All day, the silence in the house seemed to echo with Minho's absence, each tick of the clock stretching the worry tighter across your mind. The morning had started off on the wrong foot, with Minho oversleeping- a rare occurrence which in turn threw off his whole routine. The rushed breakfast, the hasty goodbye—everything felt off-kilter. It was unlike him to be late, especially for his job at the veterinary clinic, a place he often described as his second home, where he could merge his passion for animals with his skills in care and healing. The hurried departure left a cold space in the wake of his frantic energy.
The argument from the night before added layers to your concern. It was one of those disagreements that seemed trivial in the light of day, yet in the shadow of the night, it had grown into a monumental barrier between you two. It wasn't just the words exchanged or the silence that followed, but the unresolved tension that lingered, making the air heavy with unsaid apologies and unexpressed affections. The fact that Minho had been irritable even before the argument didn't help, it only amplified the discomfort, casting a shadow over his usual bright demeanor.
As the day dragged on, you found yourself glancing at the clock, counting the hours until Minho's return. The thought of him dealing with the stress of work on top of everything else weighed heavily on you as guilt settled in. It wasn't just the worry for his mental state, but also the longing for reconciliation. You knew the importance of mending the rift, of clearing the air with conversations that bridged the gap between hurt and healing. The thought of him walking through the door, the opportunity to start anew, to offer a smile as a peace offering, became a beacon of hope in the slow march of the day. But as you continue to relive the argument you can’t help the pang of sorrow that strikes your heart like lighting, complimenting the storm of emotions whirling about your being.
The dispute sparked when you casually asked him about his day. To you, it was a simple question, but Minho perceived it as intrusive, deeming you "too clingy" and expressing his exhaustion with what he viewed as your constant nagging.Since then you’ve been running yourself into the ground trying to get as much stuff around the house as you can. If Minho comes home to a clean house, you think, then there’ll be one less reason for him to be irritated with you.
The sound of keys jingling faintly outside the door interrupts your thoughts. You had just finished cooking dinner and were plating it just in time as Minho to strolls in.
“Mm,“ he hums in approval as he wraps his long arms around your waist, gently tugging your back to his front. He rests his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “Smells good, baby. Thank you.” You hum and nod, not sure what to do. He was just complaining about you being clingy but here he is, swaying you side-to-side. Minho clearly sensed your apprehension and pulled back with a sigh. “Why am I getting the silent treatment?”
You aren’t sure how to respond to that. You weren’t purposefully trying to ignore him, you’re just confused and you don’t know how to voice that. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment,” you turn around towards him and lean back against the kitchen island, using your hands to brace yourself.
Minho hums and folds his arms over his chest. He raises a brow, wanting you to continue. You huff and tip your head back for a moment before looking directly at him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to come off too clingy.” Your tone came off a little harsher than you’d planned and you watch as his expression shifts into something more serious, guilty even.
“Shit, baby I- I didn’t mean it, you know that. I shouldn’t have said it and-” You shake your head, effectively cutting him off.
“It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just-”
His eyes begin to soften as he inches back into your space. “Hey. Hey,” Minho murmurs as his hands find purchase on your shoulders in an attempt to provide at least some semblance of comfort. He’s always been the type to have some sort of contact when talking to you like this. It makes it feel more personal, more sincere, especially when he ends up apologizing. “Don’t do that, you know I hate it. I’m the one who should be sorry, okay? I’m sorry, I was just stressed and I know that isn’t an excuse.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you, I made you upset.”
Minho shakes his head. “I want you to ask about my day, I want you to show that you care. It makes me feel important. You make me feel important.” You pull your lip in between your teeth, a nervous habit you picked up as a child.
"Are you sure? Because I will-" Minho clicks his tongue and leans his forehead against yours, his brown eyes sparkling.
"I never want you to feel insecure about anything I say, regardless of what it is. I understand I can be hot-headed, and I'm working to fix that, but I want you- I need you- to tell me when I’m doing something that’s upsetting you. I love you and I promise you I didn’t mean any of it.” He presses a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of your nose with a smile. The action makes your stomach erupt with butterflies and you know everything will be okay. You’ll always bounce back and find your way back to each other.
Minho looks down and locks his pinkys around yours before looking back up at you. “You okay now?” You nod and lean against him further with a content sigh.
“I love you too, Min.” Minho begins to open his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.
“Even if you’re a dick sometimes.” You say with amusement laced in your tone and a grin.
“I guess I’m lucky you put up with me then.”
“Now you’re getting it,”
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tags: @godslino @seungseung-minmin @myseungsunglove @azuna-sz @kaiyaba @solisyeah
#snowyquokka#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#skz reader insert#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz reactions#lee minho x reader#leeknow#lee know#skz lee minho#lee minho stray kids#lee minho#lee know x reader#lee know scenarios#lee know angst#skz angst#stray kids angst#stray kids x reader#lee know imagines#lee know stray kids#lee know fluff#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#lee minho angst#lee minho imagines#lee minho fluff
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heatstroke. [ljn]
pairing. mechanic! jeno x (afab) reader
wc. 3.8k+
cw. SMUT MINORS DNI!!, hard dom! jeno, profanity/cursing, outdoor/car sex, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, boot grinding, rough sex, degradation, name-calling (’slut’, ‘fucktoy’), etc…
an. i had this idea in june, but haven't had much time to write until recently. i had to rush a bit because i wanted to get it out before august/summer ends, I just made it lol. if there’s typos… oops… hope you enjoy :3
just before the muggy summer air lulls you to sleep, a series of sharp knocks at your windows jolts you fully conscious. as your eyes snap wide open, you turn to look to see a man standing outside of your car. he can tell by the bemused expression on your face you're struggling to figure out why he's here.
"roadside assistance, you called." realisation washes over your features, and the mystery man can't help but find it amusing how little control you have over your countenance.
you open the door slowly, allowing him time to move back, and groggily step out of the car. rays of sun prick your skin - the floral mini dress you had on left more of you exposed than covered.
"thanks for coming," you laugh nervously.
the sun is blinding, you can just make out the figure before you as you give your knight in shining armour a squinted once over.
his uniform consists of navy overalls and heavy boots; though he had taken the top half of his overalls off and tied the sleeves around his waist, you're sure he's sweltering. the white tank top he wore hugs his broad, muscular torso, which you can't help but ogle at.
"no problem. any idea what the issue is?" as he nears your car, you get a better look at his face. and just as you feared, he has a face to match the body.
his features are sharp, from his jaw to the upturned corners of his mouth to his nose. in contrast, the way his eyes soften up as he smiles at you fills your stomach with butterflies.
you catch yourself then clear your throat before responding. "no, it just broke down. i'm lucky i pulled over in time."
if you were trying to hide that you were checking him out, you were doing the worst job ever.
unabashed stares were far from foreign to him, he couldn’t say he minded them - especially when they were from someone cute.
he takes a quick walk around the vehicle, checking for any external damage. "tyres look fine," he mumbles to himself.
then he stops at the hood to pop it open. a frown settles upon his features as he begins to try to diagnose the issue at hand.
you don't even try to understand what he's doing, you're honestly far more concerned with analysing every square inch of the adonis before you.
"you okay standing out here? it's pretty hot," he turns to you. you had lost track of time, has it been a few minutes or a few hours? "you can sit in my truck, it has ac, or i can get you some water."
"just the water is fine!" you respond, even though cold air sounded like paradise right now actually, "i've always been somewhat interested in cars and stuff." you lied again.
"oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.
"yeah, my dad used to fix old cars up - he'd make me hand him tools from time to time." you walked closer to him, leaving a few centimetres between your bodies.
"then, you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit? i think i know what the issue is here." you nodded vehemently, unable to stop yourself from forming an eager smile.
only when he walks away do you realise you have been holding your breath. you barely have time to catch it before he's back with two chilled water bottles in one hand and a hefty toolbox in the other. bulging muscles ripple across his arms, the sight puts a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach.
he sets the box down with a light grunt, then looks at you kindly and with an outstretched arm to hand you a cool bottle. the fact his hand, which you notice is comparatively larger and rougher, brushes against yours only exacerbates your condition.
you can barely look him in the eye as you take the bottle from him; you waste no time before cracking it open and gulping down a considerable amount. his eyes can’t help but follow the droplets of water that escape the corner of your mouth, trickling down your chin, your neck and then your chest before disappearing between your cleavage (which he had been trying to ignore from the moment you stepped out of your car).
“someone’s thirsty,” he mentally slaps himself and comments with a chuckle to ease the moment of tension.
he takes a swig of water before putting on gloves, picking a took out of the box and getting to work.
for a moment, only the sound of distant wildlife in the surrounding area can be heard. leaving you ample time to watch. the way his brows furrow as he concentrates on his job is more attractive than it should be.
“my name is jeno by the way,” he breaks the silence. you hadn’t even thought to ask, you quickly reply with your name. “where are you heading?”
“my friend’s place for a barbecue. this was supposed to be a shortcut, but it ended up leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere.” he lets out a sympathetic hum before letting a comfortable silence fall between the two of you again.
he hands whatever tool he has in his hand to you and asks, “can you pass me the torque wrench?”
you stare at him blankly then you stare down at the array of tools laid out. the temperature of your body increases even further as he smiles at you knowingly.
“hard to think with the heat, huh?” he chuckles walking past you to pick up the tool you would have never guessed was what he was asking for. “don’t worry about it, you can just stand and watch,” he said as though that wasn’t what you had been doing up until now anyway.
he’s sure you’re not actually interested in cars in the slightest but rattles on about the topic. most of it all flies over your head but you nod and giggle as your gaze trails over the veins on his arms are he tightens bolts.
after a short while, he stands up straight. wiping his forearm over his sweaty forehead he declares he thinks he’s done.
“key?” he plucks off his gloves as you fish it out of your purse and hand it over to him. “glad you know that one.” he teases.
you watch with bated breath as he gets into your car to start it; sure enough, the engine purrs when he turns the key.
he jumps out of the car and flashes you a proud smile that makes you melt more than the heat.
"so...” he starts tucking his gloves into his pocket then he rubs his hands together before placing them on his hips. "how would you like to pay?"
"oh yeah, let me just get my purse. how much was it?." you open your bag to rummage around for your wallet as he tells you the price.
your phone…
sunglasses…
a pack of gum…
lip gloss…
no wallet.
you smile up at him nervously, excusing yourself to go look in your glove compartment.
jeno follows you around to see you bent over and rummaging around. he loses track of time, too preoccupied with the way your dress rides up to barely cover your ass. he didn't notice how translucent the fabric was until now, he could just make out the outline of the thong you were wearing.
while he blissfully enjoys the show, dread fills you at the realisation you may not be able to pay. you desperately look for stray bits of cash, but you can’t seem to find even a penny in your car all of a sudden.
your frantic search yields absolutely nothing. you take a second to steel yourself before stepping back onto the ground and turning towards him with a doe-eyed guilty expression that makes something stir in his abdomen.
"i swear i had it but-" you mutter, finally moving to sit facing him in the passenger’s seat. he suddenly feels a lot bigger now you're staring up at him and he's looking down at you. "but it's not- i don't have any money so-"
"well, there are other ways to pay." only when the words leave his mouth does jeno realise there is room for misinterpretation but, for some reason, he doesn't feel like correcting himself.
maybe it was the warmth or the stress of your predicament, but your mind began to entertain itself with thoughts that had nothing to do with getting this man that you had only met today his money.
you blinked dumbly, absolutely none of the cogs turning in your brain as you started eyeing him again. starting at the neckline of his tank and then fixating on his deep collarbones momentarily before drifting down.
sweat had turned the white cotton covering his torso almost transparent. the material clung to the ridges of his toned chest and abs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
your mouth went dry; you were eyeing him like a dehydrated desert wanderer who had just spotted an oasis.
“like… how?” you blink up at him as though you don’t catch his drift. the innocence you feign starts to chip away at his self-control.
though he comes off as rather relaxed on the outside, jeno is rather rigid with himself. he had to be to run a business with any success. but at the end of the day, he was his own boss; no one had to know about this.
he glanced around. you were on a road in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woodland and he couldn't remember the last time he had seen another car drive past.
he could bend his rules this once for you.
“you’re not just a pretty face, you’re a smart girl, right?” finally, he gives into the desire that had been building inside of him since the moment he laid eyes on you. his charming eye-smile turns into a dark glare; his voice drops a couple octaves. “use your head.”
without another word, you stand up and sink down to squat, reluctant to get your knees dirty. you stare up awaiting further instruction.
“you know transfers are a thing, right?” he laughs sliding a hand over your cheek, feeling a switch inside of him flip. here you were debasing yourself for a man you had just met. “i think i like this much better though, clever girl.”
he can’t believe you’re doing this.
he can’t believe he’s doing this.
you untie his overalls letting them drop down to his knees and tug down his boxers. internally you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a well-groomed semi-hard cock. feeling it twitch up to attention as you wrap a hand around it. he groans out an obscenity as you begin to tentatively stoke him.
“you’re gonna need to do a lot more than that if you plan on giving me my money’s worth.” he tuts down at you, sliding his hand to rest on the back of your head.
“whatever you want.” the seductive lilt of your voice makes him reel.
“whatever?” his chest rises as he takes a deep breath and forms a light grip on your locks.
“anything.” you nod.
“then open your fucking mouth, slut.” his voice suddenly becomes gravelly and commanding as he cranes your head back. you obediently open up for him, wrapping your lips around his tip to lap at the salty fluid that had started to spill out of it.
“hands behind your back,” the look in his eyes is wild as he watches you promptly obey him without reluctance. you want to please him, repay him for his kindness.
you take the initiative to take him even deeper, creeping down inch by inch deeper with each bob; the more you take, the more drool escapes the corners of your mouth, dripping down in thick strings. you let out garbled moans, sending vibrations through him; his hand instinctively grips your locks, pushing his cock harshly into the back of your throat. you swallow a gag and tears prick your eyes but keep going.
“you’re so good,” he huffs, abdomen tightening, “you do this often? bet you’d let any man shove their cock down your throat, cheap fucking slut.”
you whine around him in protest, he lets you up to speak. you vehemently shake your head and choke out, “only you.“
“just for me.” his thumb softly endearingly caresses the back of your head. “god, what did i do to get this lucky.” he half mutters to himself before shoving himself back into your accepting mouth.
he continues to fuck into your face like you’re nothing but a hole and you take it. his head tips back as he lets out unbridled moans, comforted by the fact there was no one for miles to witness your debauchery, but infinitely turned on by the fact you were so out in the open.
jeno's breathing gets more ragged with each thrust, he hunches forward at the feeling of his orgasm hurtling towards him. if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed, you would smile as you brought a hand up to toy with his saliva-coated balls.
"oh my fucking- i'm cumming." it was the last push he needed before shooting his load down your throat. keeping you locked in place, nose smushed up against his pubic bone. all strength leaves your legs and you fall to your knees, the hard ground digs into your skin but the pain means nothing when he’s groaning about how well you’re taking his cum. you can barely breathe and your head is spinning but you wish you could make him cum again already.
after a while, he settles down from his high and slowly removes himself. his hand grips firmly at your hair, keeping you in place.
“what a fucking mess.” he sneers while admiring his work, how filthy you look kneeling before him. spit and cum cover your chin down to your chest; the low neckline of your dress is soaked. not to mention your makeup, black inky streaks ran down your cheeks. “liked taking my cock so much you forgot you had something to look pretty for.”
the look in your eyes was close to piety, unfazed that there was no way you could go to your friend’s house in this state. maybe he’d fucked your face a little too hard and knocked some sense out of you. it was the only explanation for you so gleefully offering yourself to every whim of a stranger; jeno was not a good enough man to refuse such an offer.
“want more? you know, most of my customers tip.” he says in an expectant tone. “no pressure though.”
“wanna fuck me?” you run a finger up his thigh, skipping being coy - you needed him.
“i don’t know, can i?” he wants to toy with you, however.
“i said you can do anything, didn’t i?” you shuffle closer to him on your knees, batting your eyelashes up at him.
“anything…” he repeats, dark thoughts run through his mind. a deep, shaky breath leaves jeno’s nostrils as he tries to contain the arousal stirring back up inside of him. he moves his leg forward, situating one of his heavy work boots between your legs; with the grasp he still has on you, he forces your core to come down against it.
he doesn’t have to utter another word before your hips start moving. you bite your lip to contain the sounds threatening to escape you, shame finally kicking in somewhat. but he was having none of that; a sharp tug at your hair was all it took, he tipped your head back, and all the moans came spilling out.
“good.” his praise encourages you to circle your hips faster. the panties you have on do nothing to hide how slick you are.
you angle your hips for more stimulation, your swollen clit growing more sensitive by the second. you haven’t been at this for that long, but he can tell by the way your moans pick in pitch you’re nearly there.
“close already?” he lifts the toe of his boot, pressing into you harder. “go ahead, cum on my boot. dirty, pathetic slut.” you whimper out pitifully as your orgasm finally wreaks you.
he leaves you no time to recuperate before tugging your locks to make you stand and smashing his lips against yours. only now does it hit you that you’ve skipped quite a few bases, it’s the first time you’ve felt his lips against your own.
you melt into his domineering kiss, trying your best to keep up with his lascivious pace. hands grope at your body, smoothing up your thighs and under your dress.
a whine leaves your lips when his hands roughly squeeze your ass. he wastes no time attaching his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he moves to start pulling your panties off, you help him get them off the rest of the way and throw them somewhere into your car.
deft fingers wander between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. the slightest brush against your raw clit makes you shudder in his grasp.
“gonna use this wet little pussy, just like i did your throat.” he whispered hotly against the skin of your neck, teasing your miserably sopping slit. “and you’re gonna take it like the good fucktoy you are.”
now’s the point he’d finger a girl open a bit, maybe make her cum again. he’s usually kinder, more careful, less selfish; all that runs through his mind are animalistic thoughts of ruining you.
you see the moment his resolve snaps completely, pupils dilating as a vein pops up on his temple. with no finesse at all, you’re turned around; a hand plants itself on your back, firmly pushing your torso down, you barely cushion your fall onto the car seat.
he almost goes right in before the last fragment of sense left inside of him reminds him he’s forgotten something crucial.
“shit, i don’t have a condom.” he slaps a hand over his face, vexed over the possibility of things ending here.
“i think i might,” you hurriedly reach into the glove compartment. not taking long to produce a foil packet and hand it to him; you turn to see he has an amused expression on his face.
“you remembered condoms but not money?” he snickers. “priorities.”
you lower your head in embarrassment, begging him to get on with it. he obliges, quickly ripping open the packet and wrapping his cock up. with a deep hum, he slides his cock up between your ass cheeks. your back arches to push your backside further against him temptingly.
your mouths hang open in unison as he slides into you. he releases a long groan as he bottoms out, your tight unprepared hole swallowing him up deliciously. jeno’s body moves on its own, allowing neither of you time to adjust before reeling his hips back and slamming back in. his hands find purchase on your hips as he begins to pound you, digging into your curves for leverage; each thrust punching a choked moan out of you.
“taking me so well,” he eyes the shameless mess beneath him, skin glistening with perspiration. he’s sure he’s equally as sweaty with the heat, probably more so with how much he is exerting himself; sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, he can feel droplets racing down the sharp contours of his face to drip off his chin. yet he feels no fatigue, adrenaline keeps him going - keeps him fucking into you at a bestial pace. something about being surrounded by wilderness draws out a side of him so despicably feral, a side of him he had never been able to admit to having.
when he said he would use you, he meant it well and truly. his cock bullied its way deeper into you.
“god! so fucking deep.” you manage to stutter out as he mercilessly crams every last inch of his cock inside. you’re sure he doesn’t mean or care to, but he hits all the spots that make your walls clench around him tighter, sucking him in deeper.
“i can feel how close you are,” your legs shake, everything becoming more and more overwhelming by the second. his fingers dig into your flesh, holding your squirming body, “like being my fucktoy, yeah? gonna cream all over my cock?”
your legs shake and your nails scrape at the hard cushion beneath you as you bawl out incoherent words about how you’re cumming. your eyes roll into the back of you as the feeling seizes your body wholly. leaving your ears ringing and broken moans tumbling out of you as he drills you through your high.
once you fall, your legs give out and you fall limp on the seat. jeno doesn’t let up at all though. strong hands lay into your shoulders, your body is pressed further into the chair with his body weight. you barely have the space to breathe but he couldn’t care less, not when he was so close to the peak.
he plants a foot on the car’s sill to anchor himself through a barrage of unrestrained, choppy thrusts. your poor car jolts and whines under their power.
between getting your throat fucked raw and brain-melting overstimulation, you could not form words; nothing that came out of jeno was coherent either, guttural noises of pleasure erupted from him.
you only find out he’s cumming when you feel his cock twitch inside your sensitive walls. the fact he’s moaning your name between grunts is something you barely pick up; your body and mind have gone numb. motor function is off the table now, the only movement you can manage are involuntary muscle twitches.
jeno stills, basking in the fading pleasure, catching his breath. you’re too out of it to let out a small whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you devastatingly empty.
“you good?” he pipes up, as you sluggishly pick yourself up.
“fine, i think.” the heat and exhaustion have evidently defeated you; the look in your eyes is vacant as you wipe the sweat off of your forehead. you fix the straps of your soiled dress and plant your feet on the ground, your legs give out momentarily, but you catch yourself before you fall to the ground. he can't help but burst out laughing.
“look at you,” he takes your hand to steady you. the smirk on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying the fact he’s fucked you to the point you can’t walk straight. “let’s get you cleaned up and home.”
“thanks,” your cheeks grow hot as you limp toward his truck.
“next time, bring money. not everyone’s as nice as me.”
★ thank you for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests!
© glitchfiles
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sickness and soup
Spencer Reid x f!Reader
Description: You have called Hotch and told him you are unwell, making you unable to come into work today. Soon after you ended the call, there was a knock at your front door… to your surprise it was Spencer. Spencer was tasked by Hotch with the role of making sure you get better.
Content: fluff, fluff, and more fluff!
Author Note: this is my first time having a go at doing this. If anyone has any suggestions or feedback, feel free to offer it to me. (pls i beg lol) i hope you enjoy <3
Working in the BAU can be pretty intense. Some of the main things I find difficult about my job are cases involving children, when the unsub is a sick and twisted psychopath and the worst of them all… calling my boss when I feel sick. I will be honest there is no easy way to call Aaron Hotchner and tell him you can’t make it to work. I would drag myself limbless and bloody into Quantico just to avoid having to tell Hotch “I can't make it in today, sorry!”
After the long awkward phone call of having to explain to Hotch why I will be missing the day off work, I sat pondering if I was just a hypochondriac or better yet a baby to the familiar enemy of every woman, my period. I had been up through the night, hurling acidic bile up into the toilet bowl from the pain of womanhood tearing up my insides. Periods are a bitch.
My phone pinged from the living room as I was brushing my teeth for what felt like the hundredth time. My feet plodded from the bathroom through to the living room. I smiled as I saw the notification on my phone. ‘Garcia<3’. I opened the message to be met by a photo of her eating soup. ‘Missing you girl!’. I smiled as I responded with my own photo of me sad pouting and sent her a message of ‘i wish i was there :(‘.
I threw my phone onto the couch making my way to my room. I sighed as I approached the huge pile of recently washed laundry which was dumped on my designated, ‘I'm too lazy to put these away so I will just dump them here’ chair. I rummaged through the pile pulling out any oversized shirt and shorts I could find. Today has not gone how i anticipated, all i wanted was to miraculously be rid of pain and be sat at the round table hearing of the next kidnap, dismembering and murder. I groaned as I attempted to atleast make my bed but was met with a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. I gave up, throwing myself onto the bed like a child throwing a tantrum.
Light knocks woke me from a deep sleep that I had no recollection of falling into. I quickly jumped up and made my way to my front door. I looked like a mess so when I opened my door to see Spencer Reid… if I didn't already feel like curling up in a ball and dying, I do now. Ever since joining the BAU i couldn’t help not develop a minor school girl like crush on him that only Penelope knows about.
“Uh… Spencer.. Why are you here?” I questioned him, trying to hide my shameful appearance behind the door. I attempted a smile despite the shock I was in.
“Hotch told me i had to come check up on you but before i left Garcia told me to trust her and that this would make you feel… in her words ‘a hundred times better’” Spencer gave a warm smile as he forced a tub of soup towards me.
“Well it looks like there is enough for two. Would you like to maybe come and have some?” I asked him nervously as I shifted on my feet.
He nodded as I opened the door wider to allow him to enter. I trailed behind him as he made his way to my living room sofa. I anxiously waited for him to say something to break the silence. It was unusual for Spencer to stay silent for this long. For as long as I have known Reid, it seemed he always had something on his mind that he was ready to ramble on about.
“Erm.. you will have to mind the state of my apartment” I coughed as my mouth went dry from nerves, “i never really have guests and i haven't had a great morni-” i suddenly was cut off by Spencer as he started to ramble like i expected.
“Did you know that it only takes one droplet of contaminated air to catch an illness?” Reid cleared his throat before carrying on, “and i will be honest with you Y/N… i am not entirely sure why Hotch sent me because he knows i don't like germs”, i watched as he fidgeted with the buckles on his satchel bag.
My mouth formed an ‘o’ as I realized Hotch didn’t tell him why I was actually not at work today. I started laughing, causing Spencer to avert his eyes to stare at me. Internally I felt bad but I couldn't help but find the poor boy sitting worried on my sofa humorous for his own unknowing.
“Y/N, i’m being serious. It is not funny. Did you know most serious diseases are caused by airborne illnesses!” Spencer blurted out upset and confused.
“Spence… I'm not contagious." I started, as he gave me a confused look “i am ill from having really bad period pains” I announced as I hung my head in shame having to tell Spencer of all people that currently I am menstruating. Even though it is a natural human thing and I can't control it.
To my surprise, Spencer stood up and walked towards me engulfing me in a hug. I found it weirdly unexpected. I half anticipated Spencer to run out the door and for the hills at the thought of me… bleeding. However, I found myself comforted by the warm hug. I was still so confused.
“I apologize Y/N if i made you feel horrible by technically categorizing you as contagious and disease-ridden” Spencer started chuckling as his chin rested atop of my head. I smiled at his apology. Although he never made me feel insulted, it was sweet to know he cared about my feelings enough to apologize if there was a misunderstanding.
I walked into my bathroom, the room was dark but drowned in ambient orange candle lighting. The bath was full of bubbles and the steam from the hot water engulfed the room, inviting me in. Spencer had done all of this while I was finishing my leek and mushroom soup. Although it sounded disgusting, I found myself texting Penelope begging her for the recipe. The response was almost better than the soup ‘a chef never spills her secrets but for you my lovely… ofcourse’ i hummed gleefully as I placed the phone on the counter of my bathroom sink. I tore every item of clothing off and made my way to the calming bath. I settled myself within the bubbles as i leant back to rest my head and close my eyes. It was relaxing and just what I had needed.
Time passed delicately, but soon enough the water lost its comforting warmth and my fingers' skin was being over-dramatic, wrinkling like I had been within the water for eighty years. As I stepped out of the bathtub, a faint knock was sounded from the door.
“Are you okay Y/N?” Spencer shouted from behind the locked door sounding worried.
“Yeah, I'm fine Spence.” i responded smiling at his caring nature
“Just checking because on average about 10 people die each day from unintentional drowning in swimming pools and bathtubs” Spencer rambled and I smiled in adoration, while I got dressed, that it always goes back to statistics with him.
I opened the door and smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I'm not about to become a statistic today”.
Spencer returned the warm smile before guiding me back to my living room. I gasped at the sight. Spencer had set up a blanket and some pillows on the sofa. While also supplying me a heating pad, chips and chocolate. I turned to him and placed a hand over my open mouth.
“Thank you spence!” I wrapped my arms around him tight and placed my head on his chest. I couldn't believe how thoughtful and understanding he had been. “This means alot you know.” I spoke muffled.
“You deserve it Y/N, you are one of the most caring and thoughtful people I know at the BAU. i don't think you realize how much we appreciate you sometimes” Reid explained, “ or how much your company and thoughtfulness means to me Y/N”.
I looked up to see Spencer turn a deep shade of crimson as he blushed. I smirked as I didn't know he even had it in him to hug a girl let alone compliment one. I had a small sense of happiness, boastfulness and achievement that that girl was me. The rest of the day, Spencer stayed to watch movies, talk and keep me company. That was until we both fell asleep… wrapped in a blanket… in each other's arms.
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fandom#penelope garcia#matthew gray gubler#david rossi#derek morgan#jennifer jareau#jason gideon#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you
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Tell Me Some Things Last | s3
pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader
summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.
word count: 23.1k
warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 3x01, 3x02, 3x03, 3x06, 3x08, 3x09, 3x14, 3x16, 3x17, 3x19, and 3x20
a/n: season 3! The slow burn continues:) This was really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it! (and I promise the chapters won't keep getting longer, this one just got out of hand LMAO) Title is from Heal by Tom Odell
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"Excuse me?"
Section Chief Strauss doesn't falter. "You can't expect me to believe you think Agent Hotchner has done an effective job leading this unit."
"You can't expect me to believe that you think I'd willing spy on my unit chief for you."
She sighs and you want to throttle her. "Agent L/N, I know you two share a history, but this is bigger than that. People have died on his watch."
You have been trying to remain neutral since you were called into her office, but every word that comes out of her mouth makes you see red. Yes, this past year has been tough, but none of it was in his control.
"I think you know my answer," you say coldly, straightening your back in her chair. "I have to go, we have a case in Arizona."
She holds your gaze for a second, before nodding and turning back to her computer. You stand up and leave her office without another word, hastening your pace to a light jog the moment you're out of her line of sight.
You want to talk to Hotch as soon as possible, but by the time you get back to the bullpen, the whole team and their go-bags are gone. Grabbing your own bag, you rush over to the airstrip where everyone is settled inside the jet.
He glances up with a thin smile when you take a seat across from him, and you return it, not wanting to raise his concern when everyone is around.
The Flagstaff police meet you at the airport when you land, and everyone jumps into the awaiting SUVs to get to the crime scene as soon as possible.
The victim is another brunette woman on the college campus, but luckily her body was found after curfew, so students aren't milling around.
You step closer to examine the woman's body as JJ glances down at her hand. "She had her Mace out, but she didn't use it?"
Morgan nods, looking around. "And it's well-lit. He's not afraid of being seen."
A bus stop sign catches your attention and you turn to Detective Griffith. "How often do the shuttles run?"
He answers immediately. "Every 10 minutes."
"Were all the other victims posed like this?" Reid asks, bending over to get a better look. "With their arms crossed."
Griffith frowns. "Yeah. Why?"
"It's a classic sign of remorse," Morgan responds, stepping in to take over the explanation. "The unsub kills the victim then immediately feels bad about it, so he poses them like this, so they'll rest in peace."
"You can tell that just by the arms?"
"It's why you called us here. To build a psychological profile of your killer."
After inspecting the crime scene, Gideon and Morgan leave to talk to the dean of the school, and JJ and Reid go to meet with the students living in the victim's dorm. Hotch is still back at the station, and you haven't gotten a chance to talk to him since meeting with Strauss, but you push it out of your mind as you accompany Emily to the coroner's office.
You're so lost in thought that the drive over is entirely silent, and it's not until you've parked that you realize she didn't say a word either.
When the coroner leads you to the victim's body, you notice how much clearer each of the markings and cuts are. Hotch doesn't assign you to speak with the coroners very often, usually sending Prentiss, because of her incredible attention to detail, but not that you're here, you appreciate the second chance to examine the victim.
"Did the other victims have this much overkill?" she asks, pulling out her camera as you flip open your notebook.
"Death was caused by a single, very forceful stab wound to the heart," the coroner confirms.
You lean in closer to see the insertion point and notice the lumpy discoloring on the victim's chest. "Yeah, it looks like he broke through the breastbone."
"And after that he just lashed out at random," he adds.
Emily hums in agreement before snapping a couple of photos. "Well, no defensive wounds. She didn't even hold her hands up to fight him off."
"The first two victims were the same."
A shudder runs through you as the two of you leave the cold room and emerge into the warm sunlight. "Why is it almost harder to look at the victims when they're cleaned up and no longer covered in blood?"
Emily considers your question for a moment. "Maybe it's because they look less human that way."
You remember Jeff's funeral, how lifeless he seemed in his casket, and how you could barely look at him during the proceedings. It was somehow worse than seeing him at the crime scene, blood everywhere. At least then, you could still see the warmth in his skin. Later, he just looked cold.
"I think you're right," you tell her just as her phone chirps with a call.
She stiffens imperceptibly when she sees the number, but you only notice because of how hyper-vigilant you have been about your own tells since speaking with Strauss. "I need to take this. Give me a second."
She walks away from you and answers the call, her tone hushed so that you can't hear her. You know it could easily just be a personal call about something private in her life, but there's something almost familiar about the look in her eyes when she saw the number.
"Everything okay?" you ask her when she returns, but she just sighs and starts walking to the SUV. "It's nothing."
You haven't known her for as long as the other members of the team, but it's not hard to tell that she's hiding something. She looks distracted as she avoids making eye contact, and when you remember how you did the same with Hotch on the plane, the pieces fall into place.
If Strauss gave her the same assignment she tried to give you, then you need to keep an eye on her. You don't believe that she would sell out the team, but you also know how terrifying you thought Strauss was when you first joined the bureau.
***
The profile leads you to take Nathan Tubbs, one of the campus security guards, into custody, and while Gideon interrogates him, you walk with Reid, JJ, and Emily through the quad to get back to the station.
"Everyone is so much younger than I remember being," JJ says, as you all pass through a crowded part of campus. Word must have spread that the team arrested someone, because you can't imagine why else there would be so many students hanging outside after dark.
"Yeah, it's a weird age," Emily chuckles. "You want to be treated like an adult, but you're still used to someone else solving your problems for you."
"All I remember is trying to figure out who I was."
That makes you laugh. "I had no idea what I wanted to do when I was in college."
"Didn't you go to college with Hotch?" JJ asks, her eyes twinkling. You expect she's hoping for an embarrassing, or at least interesting, story from those years, but your past with him feels almost like sacred territory: something you can't breach when he's not around.
"Not college," you correct, "just everything else before and after."
"What was he like then?" Emily asks, genuine curiosity in her tone. You still can't believe that she would spy for Strauss, but you also can't help your suspicions.
"He was completely different, but also the same." You smile as you think back to the early years of your friendship. "He was kind of a cool kid in high school, but he was just as focused and determined as he is now."
"Hotch was popular?" Reid asks in disbelief.
JJ snorts. "Why can't I imagine that at all."
"He was trustworthy," you shrug, "and kind. Even when people weren't kind to him."
The three of them go silent, and you suddenly feel extremely self-conscious, but you're saved when your phone rings with a call from Derek. "Hey."
"There's been another murder."
***
The case ends in a murder-suicide that a part of you believes Gideon should've seen coming. JJ calls the jet to take off at first light, and everyone looks exhausted when you arrive at the airport. You sleep most of the flight back, but when you step into the field office again, you know you can't ignore the talk you've been avoiding all day.
You go to his office in the hopes of having this conversation privately, but he isn't inside when you look through the open door. You turn back with a frown and are about to head down the stairs again when you see him leaving Strauss's office across the hall.
He spots you immediately, and before you can say anything, he says, "I just got suspended."
Your mouth falls open. "What?"
"Two weeks."
You blanche as you follow him into his office, where he immediately starts packing up his essentials into his briefcase. "Hotch...I have to tell you something. Something I should have mentioned yesterday."
"What is it?" he asks, his voice slightly distracted.
"StraussaskedmetospyonyouandIthinkshealsoaskedEmily!"
He blinks. "Can you say that again?"
You press your lips together, before trying again, slower this time. "Strauss asked me to spy on you, and I think she also asked Emily."
He closes his eyes for a beat, but it feels like years. You can feel the disappointment wafting off of him, but he doesn't say anything, giving you the time to explain in more detail.
"She asked me right before we flew to Arizona," you tell him, your chest aching at the defeated look on his face. "I told her I wouldn't do it, of course, and that you are the perfect leader for this team. But I was watching Emily the whole time we were there, and I think Strauss might have threatened her or made her some kind of offer."
His hands pause their packing and for a moment, you're worried that he's going to be angry you didn't come to him sooner, but then he just sighs, a deeply dejected sound. "I figured she would. It's basically in the FBI playbook."
"You knew?" you say, your voice almost like a gasp.
"I didn't know for sure," he amends, "but I believed so. And I'm usually right about these kinds of things. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. You guys will be fine without me."
You want to shake him; to reach forward and rattle his shoulders until he realizes that this is it. This is exactly why he makes such a great unit chief.
He doesn't get angry, even when he may have cause to be. He trusts his team so wholeheartedly that even under the suspicion of spying to the higher-ups, he still treats everyone the same. He puts the team above himself in almost every aspect, and the intermittent calls you get from Haley when you're in the middle of a long case prove that it may be to his own detriment, but he still does it. Because he cares so deeply, about each of you, and about each victim, and about catching each killer.
"We need you," you say, emphasizing your words as though that will make him understand you better.
"Morgan and Prentiss will be fine," he says pointedly, as though trying to prove a point. "I'm sure they'll even be better off. And Reid and JJ can look to you for guidance. It's practically what they do already."
"Fine," you sigh, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "They'll be okay. But what if I need you?"
He looks at you then, and there's a sadness behind the stern set of his eyes. "You'll be okay."
***
You have to drag yourself out of the house the next morning. The knowledge that Hotch (and most likely Gideon) won't be at the office sucks the motivation out of you, especially because you have no idea what will happen once the team is given another case. Will they assign you a new unit chief? Will they temporarily promote someone on the team?
You push your questions out of your mind as you mindlessly get through security and flop down at your desk. There's a palpable difference with half the team gone, especially since Emily doesn't seem to be anywhere in sight either, and the emptiness of the office somehow feels more claustrophobic.
You finished all of your paperwork the night before, because you couldn't sleep after hearing of Hotch's suspension, so sitting at your desk now, you have nothing to do until a new case arrives.
Reid and Morgan dive into their own paperwork the minute they sit down, and they don't look up except to grab a new pen or refill their mugs.
You can see the tension lining everyone's shoulders, the stress about the future of this team, with its two senior-most members gone.
When you can't take the lack of work anymore, you head over to JJ's office, where she is poring over a stack of case files so tall that you can't see her face until you step in front of her desk. "Hey, JJ."
"Oh, hey," she says, looking up at you. "It's been really quiet out there."
You nod, dropping onto the sofa across from her. "Half the team's gone. It doesn't feel the same."
"I wish I could come out there and sit with you guys, but I have so many new case files to look over."
"Need any help?"
She looks up in surprise. "Actually, that would be great. Can I leave you with a few of them? There's a checklist for what I need you to note down at the top of that stack."
"Of course," you say before she hands you a thick stack of files. "I'll get them back to you soon."
"Take your time," she says, waving you away. "I have like a billion more to go through anyway."
When you're back at your desk, you set down the stack with a small thud and open the first file. You're bombarded with gory images of men who have been brutally stabbed to death, and you read over the case history quickly before opening the next one. This time, the images are of live women, all of whom share a skin tone and hair color, and have been kidnapped in the last week.
You slam the file shut and close your eyes in an effort to keep your head from spinning. You don't understand how anyone could classify these cases. How they could decide that one of these unsubs is worse than another. But there aren't enough teams like yours to cover every case that comes through the door, so someone has to.
You glance up at Hotch's office again, a force of habit, and the darkness in his doorway reminds you of the emptiness in the office. It's the same with Gideon's office, and Emily's desk.
You miss them all.
***
The first week of Hotch's suspension is hell. Gideon still hasn't turned up, and you can see his absence clawing at Spencer, who hasn't gone more than an hour without glancing at his office since he left. Derek doesn't admit it, but you can tell he misses Hotch's leadership over the team.
Strauss has come by periodically to "check in" on your team's work, but with the other units available to take on any new cases, she hasn't assigned you anything. You know she doesn't trust your team, but you're surprised that even with Hotch gone, she's still treating all of you like extensions of him. Not that she's wrong about that.
Without getting called in, you stay at home for the first few days, and even get some use out of your Peloton for once. You've been missing him all week, but it's not until the following Monday that you decide to actually do something about it.
Grabbing the files JJ gave you to look over, you stuff them in your bag and drive up to his house. Both cars are in the driveway when you arrive, and you belatedly realize that you should have called first.
You knock on the door hesitantly, and are surprised to see Jack in Haley's arms when she opens the door. She looks excited to see you, but you still feel bad about just showing up. "I'm sorry, I should have called."
"Not at all," she says, opening the door wider for you to enter. "You know I love seeing you."
"Y/N's here," Haley announces as she leads you into the kitchen and sets Jack back into his high chair. She shoots you a pointed look. "And she's not here to talk about work."
"Of course not," you say with a laugh. "I just wanted to see how the suspension was going. The team really misses you."
He acknowledges you with a small nod, and you take a seat opposite him at the table, where he is feeding Jack his cereal.
"I miss everyone, too," he says, "but it's also been nice to have some extra time at home."
"This suspension has been a blessing in disguise," Haley jumps in, ruffling Jack's hair. You don't miss the way Hotch's jaw twitches.
You aren't sure what to say to that, but Haley just pulls Jack out of his chair and turns to the doorway. "I'm gonna put him down for his nap. It was nice seeing you, Y/N."
"You too, Hales," you say earnestly, before smiling at Jack. "Bye, buddy."
When she's out of the room, you shoot Hotch a look that makes him lean back with a frown. "What?"
"You miss work, don't you."
He huffs, and you take that as an admission. "I've loved being home," he says, his words slightly more emphasized than necessary.
You can hear the candor in his voice. You don't doubt that he loves spending time with his family, you just also know the pull of the job. The fulfillment of saving people from unimaginable horrors, and the desolate ache that comes when you know you aren't doing everything you can.
"You can feel both things," you whisper as he exasperatedly runs his hand through his hair. He got a haircut.
The thought pops into your head against your will, and you glance up at his hair as you realize this is the shortest it's been in a long time. It suits him, but it also emphasizes the hard furrow of his brow.
"Haley doesn't understand that," he says simply, no ill intention in his tone, "but I can't expect her to. I barely understand it, and it's what I'm feeling."
To the outside listener, his words could be construed as complaints, but there's nothing but deep empathy in his voice. He loves her so much, and even though they're having differences about his work life, she loves him too.
You spend the next half hour talking him through each of the cases that JJ left you with, and when Haley returns to the kitchen after putting Jack down for his nap, you pull out a chair for her and tuck the files away.
"We need to have you over for dinner sometime soon," she says as soon as she takes a seat. "I can't believe we haven't done it yet." She looks to Hotch with an earnest sigh. "I guess Jack has been kind of a handful, but I can't believe this is your first time coming to the house since he was born."
"It's been too long," he agrees, draping an arm over the back of her chair. The sight of their casual intimacy is a reminder of what you once had, but the usual mistiness doesn't come when you think about Jeff. Your chest just fills with a liquid-y warmth that feels like melted chocolate and syrup.
"Likewise," you smile, patting Haley's hand. "I don't know if I can handle another night out, even with the mid-evening interruption."
She laughs heartily, and you see Hotch's lips curve up involuntarily. "I think I'm partied out for the year."
His arm slips down to rest against her waist, but she doesn't lean into him like she usually does. You avert your eyes, glancing up at their kitchen wall clock and faking a gasp. "I've taken up too much of your family time. I should go."
"It's okay," Hotch assuages at the same time that Haley says, "I'll walk you out."
They share a small glance, and you suddenly feel intrusive in their home. "I'll see you in a week."
He nods and you follow Haley to the door, where she gives you a quick squeeze and another promise to have you over for dinner soon. The sun starts to set as you drive home, and before you can second guess yourself, you're turning into a local farmer's market that is about to shut down for the night.
You rush through the stalls and stop in front of the flower shop, where you buy a dozen pink carnations. The vendor ties the bouquet with a silky ribbon and you hold the flowers close to your heart as you walk back to your car and start driving.
This time, you're more aware of the direction you're headed. You don't stop your car until you're in the parking lot and you don't stop moving until you're past the front gates and up the grassy hill where Jeff's headstone sits stoically under the waning sunlight.
You take a deep breath as you sink down to your knees, blissfully unaware of the grass stains coloring your slacks. You set the flowers down in front of his headstone, which you haven't seen in months.
Jeff Adler
Beloved Son, Husband, Brother
Until we meet again
The carnations look bright against the gray stone, and you arrange them neatly so that they don't get blown away.
He loved flowers. He knew they were impermanent and likely a waste of money, but he still loved all of the different emotions they symbolized, and how beautiful they could be for as long as they lasted.
He brought you a bouquet of heliotrope almost every week after you got married, and when you asked him what it meant, he insisted that it was something you had to find out in your own time. That time came a quick Google search later, and when the words 'eternal love' flashed on your screen, you knew you had picked the right man.
You brush your finger against the petals of the pink carnations you brought, remembering the rest of what the search yielded. Angelica for inspiration, calla lily for beauty, and pink carnation for gratitude.
You're so grateful you met him. So grateful he loved you as much as you loved him.
"I love you," you whisper, suddenly needing to say the words out loud. There's no one around, and the sun has set far enough that there's barely enough light to see, but your words feel strong as they come out of your mouth. "Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for giving me 10 beautiful years."
You wipe away the tear that falls from the corner of your eye. "Goodbye."
***
He takes his time as he walks through the halls of the Virginia field office on Monday morning. He hasn't been inside in two weeks, and after he and Haley agreed that he should request a transfer, he likely won't be back again for a very long time.
When he walks past the glass doors of the bullpen, he spots you at your desk, pointing out something to Morgan in a case file. He hastens his pace so you don't see him. He still doesn't know how to tell you that he isn't coming back.
"Good morning, ma'am," he says when Strauss beckons him into her office.
"I was hoping you'd do the right thing," she says, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Have you given any thought to what department you'll request?"
He shakes his head. "I was under the impression that if I left the BAU, I'd have my choice of posts."
"Well, I'll consider it after I fully complete my investigation."
She pauses before looking at him again. "You were a prosecutor. What about heading up a white-collar crime task force? That'll get you home at night at a reasonable hour."
That sounds like exactly what Haley wants for them. They spent hours over the last week discussing what the best path forward would be post-suspension, and after countless late-night arguments, they finally agreed on a transfer. It would be best for the team, and best for his family. So why does he feel so guilty?
"Sorry to interrupt."
Prentiss barges into the office, as though she had an appointment. She glances over at him, and he can't read her expression. "Sir, I've decided to resign from the FBI, effective immediately."
"I don't understand," he frowns, taking in her rigid posture. He remembers your suspicions, as well as his own, but this can't be where it ends.
"I'm taking the foreign service exam. With my connections, I'd stand a good chance of landing in the State Department."
"Prentiss," he urges, trying to convey his understanding in his tone. "I think that's a mistake."
She shakes her head with a sigh. "Well, don't try to talk me out of it. Garcia saw my name on the list, and she already tried."
That makes him pause. "If she can't talk someone out of doing something, no one can."
"Sorry for the interruption, but, sir, it's good to see you back." She turns her gaze to Strauss, even as she continues speaking to him. "The team needs you."
She stalks out of the room after a quick "Ma'am", leaving him alone with Strauss, who looks like she's up to her last nerve. "I'll be overseeing this next case until I can assign your replacement."
"You don't have any field experience, do you?" He doesn't mean for the words to come out so critically, but his emotions are a jumbled mess that he can't decipher well enough to fix his mood right now.
"My job is to protect the Bureau. If I have to hold the team's hand
for one case, so be it."
Hold the team's hand. He can't imagine that Strauss will be of much help in the field, but he keeps his mouth shut. He's been around enough authority figures to know when to keep his criticisms to himself.
"Ma'am," he says gently, hoping he can turn his thoughts into useful advice. "In order to function effectively, this team needs stability."
She clasps her hands together on her desk, and he knows it's done. There's nothing he can do to fix this for the team, at least not on this case. "The BAU has some very talented people, and they're Bureau assets, and I believe it's time that they were out from underneath the leadership of you and Jason Gideon."
***
Hotch was supposed to come back today. It's not until you're on the plane that Derek informs the team that he's requesting a transfer.
"What?" you burst out, unable to keep your composure even with Strauss seated a few rows behind you.
"He didn't tell you?"
You shake your head with a forlorn frown, and Derek jumps back in quickly to remediate the situation. "I only found out because I ran into him on the way to the jet. He didn't seem like he was in the mood for talking."
But he tells you everything. At least you thought he did.
"It's okay," you say, forcing your face into a neutral expression. "This isn't about me. I just can't believe he's leaving."
"Yeah," JJ grimaces, "and I can't believe we're stuck with her now. You know, from this angle, she looks almost human."
You all glance behind you, but thankfully, her face is still buried in the case file.
"Emily didn't come in today, either," you point out, turning to the empty seat next to you. "We're down two agents, and Gideon's MIA."
Reid blinks, and you curse yourself for being so cavalier. You know how hard Gideon's absence has been on him.
He recovers quickly and leans in to the center console with a raised eyebrow. "Has Strauss ever even been out of the-"
A chorus of shushes come from Derek and JJ and he shuts up as Strauss walks down the aisle and sits across from you all. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it's protocol to brief everyone before we arrive at the crime scene?"
JJ turns red and she nods hastily, opening her file. "Yes, ma'am."
Strauss has only been here for ten minutes and you already want to strangle her. JJ explains the case details succinctly, and when the plane lands, you all head over to the crime scene to find Detective Wolynski, who called your team in when the murders got out of hand.
Within minutes of meeting them, Strauss manages to ruin your relationship with the local police by questioning their decision to wait so long to call in the BAU. JJ immediately takes matters into her own hands as she explains that we have to work with them if we want to be included in the investigation at all, but she doesn't seem to care.
You get a call from Penelope as you're heading back to the SUVs, and you step aside to get out of Strauss's earshot. "What's up, Pen?"
"I tried everything I could," she wails. You can hear the distinct clicking of her keyboard in the background. "I tried to convince him to stay, but he's so stubborn."
You sigh, glancing over at the scene, where Strauss looks positively nauseous. You can empathize with her emotions, because you know how hard it was for you to see your first crime scene in person, but this just further proves how unfit she is to understand what being on this team really means. "If he made up his mind, there's gonna be no changing it, unless he changes it himself."
She huffs, before audibly perking up. "I gave him the Milwaukee case file before he went home, and I also, uh, saw that his transfer hasn't passed through the system yet."
You're almost certain she had something to do with that, but your mind immediately starts going through the possibilities of what this could mean. If his transfer isn't in the system, then that means he technically still works on this team...which means him not being here is in dereliction of duty. If there's anything that can convince Hotch to show up, it's duty.
"You've been more help than you know," you tell her, before hanging up and hopping into the SUV.
***
When he arrived at his house with the case file Garcia gave him, he immediately stuffed it in his bag and tossed it onto the floor. He definitely didn't think about reading it the entire time he was changing out of his suit, and making a quick lunch for Haley and himself. When she went upstairs to put Jack down for his nap, he couldn't help himself any longer.
Reaching into his bag, he pulls out the file and flips it open slowly, being careful to angle the gruesome photos away from the stairs in case Haley came down without him noticing. Women taken in the afternoons and killed. Bodies dumped in the morning. Hearts cut out of their chests. The words pop out at him as he skims the page, and he's so engrossed in the material that he doesn't hear her until she's standing over him. "I thought this was over."
"It is," he sighs, closing the file. "I'm just curious." He doesn't know when he started lying to his wife, but he doesn't like it. The bitter taste of it in his mouth.
He can see her gearing up for a fight when their home phone rings. He picks it up and clicks the button to answer, but even after saying 'hello' a couple of times, no one responds. For a split second, his mind flashes back a year to the Fisher King and the secret message left on his home phone, but he pushes the thought away.
He clicks the phone off, looking up at Haley again, but then a shrill ringing sound starts again, this time from her purse across the living room.
An unfamiliar queasiness fills his stomach, and he maintains eye contact with her as her eyes flicker back and forth a couple of times. He promised himself he would never profile his family, but the analyses come before he can shut off that part of his brain. Shifting eyes. Rigid posture. All indications of lying and shame.
"What did the Section Chief say?" she asks, her hands going to her hips. Stance of power to overcompensate for-
He shakes the line of thinking from his head. "She suggested that I transfer to a white-collar-crime task force."
"Would you have to travel?"
"No, I'd have a nine-to-five life."
She nods, and he can see the finality in her stance. "Then, it's a no-brainer."
***
You haven't been able to focus as well as you'd like to with the knowledge that Hotch isn't coming back hanging over your head. When you get a spare moment at the station, you step out of the conference room where all of the evidence has been scattered around and press the first number on your speed dial.
"Hello?" It's Haley.
You stumble over your words as you say 'hello' back. You weren't expecting it to be her who answered. She clearly wasn't expecting you either, because she sighs dramatically when she hears your voice and you hear a quiet "It's Y/N" before the phone is handed over.
You can understand where she's coming from. When Jeff was about to start his undercover assignment, you were so angry at him for choosing to be away from you for so long. But then rationality won over, and you remembered why he was doing it...for the same reason you are.
"Hey."
He sounds guilty. You can imagine.
"Hey," you say simply, waiting for him to fill in the gaps. He owes you at least that much.
"I'm sorry," he says after a long pause, "but you knew this was coming. You know Haley hates what this job turns me into, and you know sometimes I hate it too."
That wasn't really the explanation you were expecting. Not willing to let him off the hook, you turn your face away from the conference room windows to hide your expression and lower your voice. "You should have told me, and you know it. That's why you're hiding behind this false justification...but I guess you know that too."
There's a small rustling sound over the receiver and you can imagine him running his hands through his newly cropped hair. "This doesn't change the fact that I'm leaving."
Sometimes you forget that he was once a young boy with an alarmingly developed moral compass that didn't always point in your direction. It's times like this that remind you.
"Fine." You feel like an irritable teenager again, but you can't contain yourself around him. Even when you want to hide a part of yourself, you can't.
"How's the case going?" he asks finally. His voice has gotten softer and you know he feels bad about how this call has been going, but with neither of you willing to concede, you decide to ignore it for now.
"Well, Strauss just offended the lead detective 45 seconds into her first crime scene."
He chuckles softly. "I'm not surprised."
"This isn't about to get any better, is it?" you ask, huffing out a forlorn sigh.
"I doubt it," he agrees. "I'll keep looking at the file from my end. Any idea how he's getting control of these women? Is he blitzing them or coercing them?"
"So far, we're coming up blank," you admit, glancing back at Morgan and Reid, who appear to be in a productive debate.
"All right. Keep me posted."
***
Another victim turns up and you're not any closer to figuring out who the unsub is. Derek steps away from the group a few minutes after you and you see him pacing the halls of the precinct, his phone pressed to his ear.
A break in the case comes when Garcia identifies school records of children who exhibit signs of perfectionism and co-dependence, leading you to a profile for the unsub. You're all listening to Garcia as she reads off the records when the door opens, with two figures standing in the entrance.
"Look who's here," Morgan grins, shaking Hotch's hand. Emily looks sheepish as she glances over at Strauss, who is downright fuming.
"How fast can you get us up to speed?" Hotch asks without another greeting.
Morgan scoffs. "How fast can you sit down?"
Strauss opens her mouth to say something, but Hotch beats her to it as he takes a seat next to you. You ignore the gesture. "We're only here to help."
She sighs. "We'll deal with this later."
With two more members back on the team, at least for the time being, the SUVs are split more evenly, and you join Emily, JJ, and Strauss in the first one as you head to the crime scene. Strauss is the first one to walk up to the scene, but the moment she sees the mangled body, she breaks down, her face contorting into a sob that she tries and fails to hold in.
You make a move to go and help her, but you're surprised when Hotch is the first to step in. "If you need a second, take a second. This is what it is. Just don't let the public see you break down."
He's so kind to her, even though she's the reason for all of his professional stress. You suppose she's not the only reason, but that isn't something you get to have an opinion on.
The devolution of the dump sites leads to an update of the profile, which gets you an address for a young boy who left school early with the nurse on duty. It doesn't take long to get to the house, and Derek and JJ coordinate some of the local police and SWAT as you strap on your kevlar vests.
After an initial argument about the probable cause of entering a house you don't know is dangerous, Emily pipes up with an idea. "Let me go in alone."
"Wait..." you start but she steamrolls over you, clearly needing to compensate for not being here before. "The boy's in the family room. He's looking for female authority figures. If he lets me in, I can signal as soon as I see anything that gives us cause."
"Technically, you're not even in the FBI," Reid points out.
She nods. "All the better."
Strauss steps in with a frown, to no one's surprise. "She's interfering
with a federal investigation."
"Well, if I'm no longer in the FBI, then you have no authority over me." Emily shrugs and turns to Hotch for the approval she actually wants. "I'm just a civilian knocking on a little boy's door."
He nods and she pulls her hair back into a ponytail. Derek hands her his gun, and you suddenly remember that Hotch doesn't have his gun either. Reaching into your other side holster, you pull out your second firearm and hand it to him without a word. He doesn't lift his hand at first, but then he nods at you and takes the gun, his eyes filled with an earnest gratitude, and you know you've forgiven him.
Once she goes inside, you all wait in silence for the signal to breach the home. It takes almost too long, but eventually your earpieces fill with a loud beeping, and Derek yells "Go!"
You find her in a back room, where she's on the floor, her forehead bleeding from a thick gash. You enter just in time to see Hotch leap forward and take Emily's weapon from the little boy, before lifting him up and carrying him out of the house.
"I can't officially approve of how that transpired," Strauss says when you all come outside. You sit next to Emily and squeeze her hand as the paramedics patch up her forehead.
Hotch shakes his head, clearly done with the bureau politics. "The arrest was clean. It would be a mistake to break up this team."
She looks at him pointedly. "None of you will ever move up the chain of command, you know that."
"Why would I ever want to leave the BAU?"
You almost believe him. It's not that you don't think he wants to stay. You know he does. You just also know how much his family means to him, and how thin Haley's patience has worn.
Morgan asks if he means it, and he gives a vague answer that you expect, before turning to look at you.
"Here." He reaches into his waistband and pulls out your gun. "Thanks, I appreciate it."
His hand brushes yours when you take it back, and the warmth of his skin makes you shiver against the slight breeze. "You're welcome."
***
When he gets home, the lights are off.
"Haley?" he calls out into the empty silence. He tries to convince himself that he didn't see this coming, but after her last words to him before he left, it's a futile exercise.
"Make sure to give your son a kiss before you leave."
He left, even when she begged him not to. Now his wife has left, and she took their son with her, and once again, he is utterly alone.
***
Gideon's resignation comes through and you find yourself missing him more than you thought you would. If Hotch is the backbone of the team, he was the stoic foundation. He formed the roots of the BAU as a unit altogether, and you owe your life's work to his intelligence and foresight. But more than that, you can't help but remember the fact that out of all the members on the team, Gideon knew Jeff the best.
He attended countless lectures about past unsubs that Gideon put on at the academy, because he believed understanding why people do things was just as important as knowing how or what they were doing. He even went to Gideon's home for the occasional dinner, and he brought you along once after you got married.
You're not sure what the team will look like without his guiding hand, but you don't have to wait long to find out when JJ calls you with the notice that you're going to Portland.
Spencer is reading a piece of paper over and over again when you get to the office, and when you peek over his shoulder, you see the familiar scrawl of Gideon's handwriting.
Taking a deep breath, you reach forward to put your hand on his shoulder for a moment of comfort, but think better of it and pull back at the last second. Derek sees your indecision and cocks his head towards him.
You walk over to his desk and perch on its edge with a sigh. "I can't believe he would leave just like that."
"I can," Morgan shrugs, his eyes hard with contempt. When you shoot him a look, he softens. "I just mean that he's been showing signs of withdrawal for a while now. It still sucks for the kid, though."
You both look up at Reid across the aisle, where he is still scanning the letter. "At least he got a letter." You try to bring humor into your tone, but it doesn't work.
"It's not about us," Derek says gently, in a show of empathy for the older agent that is unfamiliar coming from him. "He did what he had to do to keep himself sane. We just have to let him."
You nod, just as JJ emerges from the hallway with Hotch on her heels. "We're starting the briefing."
***
"You must be the BAU."
A handsome man with a thick East Coast accent comes forward to introduce himself when you all enter the Portland field office. "Special Agent Bill Calvert."
"Hi, Jennifer Jareau," JJ smiles, extending her hand. "This is SSA Aaron Hotchner. This is Dr. Reid and Agents Morgan, Prentiss and L/N."
He smiles at each of you but his eyes linger on yours for a moment before he takes JJ's hand. "I appreciate your help on this case."
"You're from Boston?" you ask, trying to place his accent after having heard nothing like it since you landed.
"The accent's kind of hard to miss in Oregon, right?" he grins, before reaching his hand out to you. "Agent L/N, was it?"
You shake his hand, shooting him a thin smile. You can already see Emily and JJ's smirks behind your back.
"We'd like to take a look around Jenny Wittman's apartment," Hotch steps in, moving forward to stand beside you.
Calvert nods. "I'd take you myself, but I'm waiting to meet her family, so I'll have another agent drive you."
"Thank you." Hotch rushes off with Reid and Morgan, and you stay back with JJ and Prentiss to work the victimology.
"Can we set up in here?" you ask Calvert as you start moving the boxes of case files and evidence onto the conference room table.
"Of course," he says, before leaving the three of you alone.
The first ten minutes of looking through the evidence is silent, and for a second, you nearly let yourself believe the other women won't bring up the elephant in the room, but then JJ lets out an involuntary giggle and they pounce.
"He's definitely into you," she says, making no effort to hide her gaze as she unabashedly stares at Calvert through the window. You want to retort immediately, but after seeing her check her phone about a dozen more times a day than she usually does, you suspect she may actually know what she's talking about when it comes to love these days.
Emily nods, biting her lip. "He couldn't stop looking at you."
"You're profilers," you argue, tossing the file in your hand onto the table. "You notice all kinds of insignificant stuff."
"So are you," JJ points out. "What do you think, then?"
They have you boxed in, and you can't think of any answer that would sufficiently appease them so you just groan.
"She's into it, too," JJ grins at Emily, who replies with, "I can't believe Y/N's gonna date someone from Portland."
Without thinking, you huff. "He's from Boston." All three pairs of eyes widen as you realize your slip in not denying her statement.
Emily laughs. "Ohh, it's so happening!"
***
When the men return from Jenny Wittman's apartment, Hotch instructs JJ to televise a statement warning possible future victims who fit the unsub's victimology. When Emily and Derek later find an ad hung up in a local laundromat that suggests he's been killing for longer than you'd previously thought, you decide to head back to the trail where the first bodies were found.
When you arrive on the scene, a dozen new bodies have been found further down the trail and near the water.
"How did we miss this before?" you think out loud, not realizing that Calvert has come up behind you.
"The trail's 40 miles long."
You jump when you hear his voice, and he apologizes after a small chuckle. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"Special Agent Calvert," you say, your voice slightly airy as you catch your breath. "No need to apologize."
"Okay," he smiles, turning to stand in front of you, "and you can call me Bill."
He's a good looking man, and you don't dislike the feeling of someone showing interest in you, especially as clearly intelligent and qualified as him.
"Sure," you say, returning the smile. "I'm Y/N, btw."
"That's a pretty name," he says, his eyes glinting with mischievousness, before he turns back to the scene before you. "They dug up eight new graves before you got here."
You frown. "So the unsub didn't stick to the pattern."
"Guy had a busy year."
You nod, pondering what this change in M.O. could mean, when Bill interrupts your thoughts. "I'm interested to hear more about how this profiling thing goes."
You give him a quizzical smile, and his lips quirk up. "I took a class in criminal psychology in college, but I don't remember enough to be useful in this area."
"We observe human behavior," you explain, ignoring the subtle smirk Emily is flashing you from behind his back. "Profiling is about making connections and predicting future actions based on history, victimology, and behavior."
He takes a moment to digest your words before huffing out a laugh. "Sounds to me like we called in the right team."
When another agent comes by to ask him about the crime scene procedure, you take your leave and walk up the hill of mulch by the open graves. You are nearly to the SUV when you spot Morgan beelining towards you.
"Not you too," you sigh, rolling your eyes dramatically as you stalk away from him.
He catches up to you easily and throws an arm over your shoulders with a grin. "I'm not gonna give you the giggly girl talk that JJ and Prentiss clearly have covered. I just wanted to say one thing."
You look at him expectantly and he brings you both to a stop by the cars. "You're a catch, L/N." You start to roll your eyes again, but he shakes his head. "You are, so if you want to have a little no-strings-fun, then I'll have your back through and through."
You have no idea what no-strings-fun would look like, but you glance back at Bill, who is speaking animatedly with another agent about the change in digging patterns of the graves.
"I don't know what I want," you admit as Derek drops his arm and turns to face you.
"That's okay," he says, before the corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk. "But figuring that out can be just as much fun too."
***
He would be lying if he said he hasn't noticed you talking to the Special Agent on the case. Calvert, he remembers as he thinks back to the capture and subsequent suicide of the unsub from the roof of his old therapist office.
They were able to find the final victim before she died, so even with the unsub's death, the case feels like a victory, and the whole team looks light on the way back to the jet.
He has been trying to keep himself light too, but every time he gets a moment to himself, his mind reverts back to the silent darkness of his home after he returned from the last case. The reminder that he hasn't seen Haley or Jack in days.
When he reaches the tarmac, he spots you talking to Calvert again, but the conversation looks different than before. The special agent looks nervous, and he tries to gauge whether you seem comfortable, before realizing how relaxed you look.
When he gets closer, he catches the end of a question that likely started with "Can I have your number?" You smile at the man, and he turns away, trying not to eavesdrop.
He can't tell what he wants you to say. He knows it's been enough time since Jeff's death that real dating isn't out of the question, but he can't reconcile the protective instinct flickering in his gut.
Regardless of the distance he tried putting between you and himself, your voice carries over the tarmac, and he hears you say, "I'm sorry." before the rest of the sentence gets jumbled in the breeze. Something that feels alarmingly like relief settles in his chest and he frowns at the foreign feeling of it coursing through his veins.
He boards the plane and purposefully chooses a seat with an empty spot next to it, knowing you'll choose to sit beside him after he practically ignored you all day. He really wasn't trying to shut you out, he just doesn't know how to broach the topic of separation with anyone, let alone someone who had as stable a marriage as you did.
When you board the jet and take your seat next to him, he glances over at you sheepishly and murmurs, "I overheard the end."
He's surprised when you laugh lightly. "It's okay. Everyone was going to find out soon enough, especially with how excited Prentiss and JJ were about it."
He nods, glad that you aren't angry about his invasion of your privacy. Then, before he can stop himself, he looks at you and asks, "You didn't want to see him again?"
"I don't think I'm looking to just date for dating's sake anymore," you explain, your eyes flitting around the cabin at the sleeping forms of the rest of the team. "I had a true love...I don't want to settle down again for anything less."
He understands that completely, but he can tell there's something else bothering you, and not just because of the rhythmic bouncing of your knee that you don't seemed to have noticed. "What else?"
You shrug, not meeting his eye. "I used to have my usual excuse, but I can't really say it's too soon anymore, can I?"
He frowns as he notices the visible strain on you that this burden has caused. "You get to decide that for yourself."
"I know," you sigh, rubbing your eye with a loose fist. "I just worry sometimes that I use Jeff as an excuse to keep myself closed off." Your knee stills, and Hotch scoots closer, even with the armrest in the way.
"You don't seem closed off to me."
Your eyes crinkle with laughter. "I'm not sure if that means much coming from you. You're not exactly the picture of openness, Hotch."
He knows you're mostly joking, but your read punches him in the gut in a way he doesn't expect. You must see the shock on his face, because you immediately lean in closer. "What is it?"
He shakes his head, trying to delay for as long as he can. If he doesn't say it out loud, maybe he can pretend that he's still a happily married man. That he didn't fail his wife and son by being as absent as he had wished his father had been, early in his life.
"It's not about Gideon leaving, is it?" You scrutinize him for a moment before shaking your head. "No. Hotch, what's the matter?"
"We agreed not to profile each other," he sighs, gritting his teeth against the pain of having to vocalize one of the lowest moments in his life.
"Aaron," you whisper. Your voice is soft and gentle, and he breaks.
"Haley left."
Your mouth parts in surprise, and he looks down at his lap, taking a deep breath. "And I don't know if she's coming back."
***
You've been waiting in the arrivals lot of the airport for almost an hour. You're assuming his flight got delayed, and you're grateful for the time to get yourself ready to see him, but the wait hasn't made your jitters any better.
You haven't seen Hotch since you left for college last year, and with his pre-law internship that he somehow snagged as a first year, it was a lonely summer.
When he called you last week with profuse apologies for not staying more in touch and a somber tone that had to be about more than his regrettable phone habits, you had told him that you would love to see him, but your winter break doesn't start for another month. After a few hushed breaths and a second of thinking, he told you that he had bought a plane ticket out to California for the following weekend.
That's why it's Friday afternoon, and you're still waiting for his familiar mop of dark hair to appear through the exit doors. A boy walks out right then, with the same raven hair and fit stature, and your heart rate hastens for a split second, before you realize it's not him.
You look down at your car's radio and twist the dial to change the station. It's been playing the same Madonna song nonstop, and you shut off the volume when the other stations are no different. Your shift in focus takes your attention away from the airport exit, so you jump in your seat when a quiet knock sounds at your passenger side window.
He's here. Your lips curve up into a bright smile and you unlock the door, letting him get in.
"Hi," you say, your voice weaker than you'd like.
"Hey, Y//N," he replies, pushing his long hair back from his face. The simple motion sets off butterflies in your stomach and you turn back to your steering wheel to keep your emotions off your face. He could always read you so easily. "It's good to see you."
He grins at you and leans forward to give you a quick, awkward hug over the center console. You involuntarily inhale as he pulls back, and the scent of his natural musk mixed with whatever new cologne he's been wearing smells dreamy on him.
You said you were over it, you tell yourself in your head. He has a girlfriend who he's going to marry, and you are his best friend. At least you were.
You don't really know where things stand between you two now. A year is a long time to go without seeing someone, and you're sure college has changed him in similar ways that it has changed you.
"I have one more class today," you say quickly as you pull your car out of the lot. "It's criminal psychology, so I figured you wouldn't mind coming to the lecture with me."
"Sounds fun," he says, before leaning his cheek against the window to watch the scenery that zips by. "God, the weather here is crazy."
"It's definitely warmer than I'm used to," you agree, struggling not to glance over at him. "We never had 70 degree winters growing up."
"Which do you prefer?"
You grin. "Home, of course."
"Of course."
You look at him then, and his expression is one you don't understand. It's the same look he gets when he's in the library and he finds a book he's been looking for.
The drive doesn't take long, and you bring him to your lecture, where he proceeds to pay more attention to the information being presented than you do. The class usually feels too short for you, but today, the time ticks by, because you can't focus.
It's been so long since you've sat next to him in a class, and the sight of him jotting down notes on a scrap piece of paper takes you back to high school, when he was still the more attentive one.
After the lecture, you both grab a quick dinner in the dining hall and settle back into your double dorm room, which you painstakingly cleaned up before he arrived.
"So, how long have you guys been friends?" your roommate, Katy, asks him as he drops into your desk chair. You've been watching her ogle him since he arrived, and if he's still as perceptive as he was in high school, it hasn't escaped his notice either.
"Forever," he says, looking at you with a grin. "We met when we were eight. When she judged my taste in The Beatles, it was over for me."
You can't help the heat that flames in your cheeks, even though you know this story by heart. Katy keeps glancing over at you as he explains how you guys met, and eventually she gets up and flops down onto your bed next to you. "You're bringing him to the party tonight, right?"
Your eyes widen as you remember that was today. "Oh, I don't know. We might just stay in."
"You have to come!" she squeals, shaking your arm. She turns to him with a pointed look. "We already have outfits picked out."
"I guess we gotta go, then," he smiles at her, before looking at me with a small raise of his eyebrow. You okay with that?
You dip your chin into a nod, and he stands up. "I'll head out for a walk as you guys get ready."
"Sounds good!" Katy says, grabbing your hand and sliding off the bed. "We'll see you in an hour."
Once the door closes behind him, Katy turns to you, her mouth agape. "You never told me how cute he is."
"What?" you sputter, your cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.
"You also didn't tell me you're, like, in love with him."
You scoff involuntarily, your usual diversion technique when someone brings up a topic you want to evade. "What are you talking about?"
"Okay," she shrugs, reaching into your closet and tossing you the dress you were planning to wear. "If that's how you want to play it."
You go into your attached bathroom to change into your outfit, but after seeing Hotch, the mini sundress you picked out feels like too much. You hate how much you're overthinking something as stupid as an outfit for a party.
You turn away from the mirror and go back into your dorm, where Katy is applying her signature shade of red lipstick in her little mirror stand.
"He has a serious girlfriend," you whisper, almost too quiet for her to hear you. But she is more perceptive than you give her credit for. "Like eventual marriage-serious."
"Oh, honey," she coos, patting the bench seat next to her. You scoot in until you're side by side and she wraps an arm around your shoulders. "I'm sorry I brought it up."
"It's okay," you shake your head, leaning on her shoulder. "I just need to get over it. It's a stupid crush that I've had since high school, but it's time. Maybe this party will help."
"Yes, exactly!" she grins, turning her head to look at you. "Nothing that a little music and a few shots can't fix."
"A few shots?" you laugh.
She nods. "Each."
~
You down another shot of whiskey before tossing your cup onto the table and following Katy onto the dance floor. She grinds against her boyfriend as you dance beside them, moving your hips side to side with the rhythm of the music.
Being in Los Angeles, the temperature outside is already warmer than it should be in November, but inside the house, your dress is sticking to your skin from the sweat and body heat surrounding you.
You're feeling the alcohol enough to have a good time even in the sweaty throng of bodies around you, and you throw your head back as you close your eyes and feel the thump of the music vibrating the floor boards.
Meanwhile, Hotch can't find you anywhere. He's drunk enough already that he knows he won't be able to find you himself, but he doesn't know anyone else here, so he grabs a half empty bottle from the drinks table and makes his way to the dance floor, where the life of the party seems to be centered.
He's usually a lot more fun at parties, but lately he hasn't felt like himself. Ever since you left for school across the country, it has felt like something in his life was wrong, like he was missing a limb. Then, things started looking up with Haley, and he pushed you away in the hopes that he would forget about any of the doubts he had, but it didn't work. The more he missed you, the worse things got in his relationship, and suddenly he wasn't sure what his life was supposed to look like anymore.
He takes another swig from the bottle and leans back against the counter as he watches people dance against each other in the dim light of the house. His eyes flicker over the mess of bodies until they catch on someone he almost doesn't recognize.
Your eyes are closed and your hands are in the air as you move to the beat. It's not exactly graceful music, but you have managed to find some semblance of a rhythm as you slide your hands down your thin dress, which is sticking to your body in a way he can't take his eyes off of.
He doesn't realize he has lifted the bottle to his lips again until the liquid is burning his throat, and he tears his eyes away from you as his head starts to spin. Maybe he's had enough for tonight. He puts the bottle down just as your roommate spots him. Katy, he thinks, or is it Sadie?
"Aaron!" she calls, stumbling over to him as a man holds her up with an arm around her waist. "Where's Y/N?"
"Not sure," he lies easily, barely conscious of the way his words have started to slur together. "I may head out soon."
"Don't leave without her," she instructs, her voice suddenly getting serious. "I'm staying with him tonight." She pats the man's arm. "So I won't be going back with her."
He nods with a resigned sigh, and slumps down on a couch in the next room, leaning his head back to stop the room from spinning.
~
When you tire of dancing, you push to the back of the crowd and look around to find any familiar face. You can't see Katy or her boyfriend anywhere, but after exiting the room, you spot Hotch asleep on the couch.
You walk forward with a slanted smile and put your hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. "Hotch, get up."
He groans, peeling his eyes open slowly. "I'm awake. Just resting my eyes."
"Yeah, yeah," you tease, looping your arm through his to help him up. "How much did you drink?"
He shrugs and you wrap your arm around his waist to hold him upright as he stumbles forward. "Whoa there. Okay, let's get you back."
You manage to get him out of the house, and once the fresh air hits, he can almost stand up straight on his own. You keep your arm around him just in case, trying to ignore the way his tee shirt is slowly riding up around his waistband.
You make the walk back in silence, and he falls back onto your bed as you lock the door behind you.
"I'm sorry," he whispers when you perch on the edge of the bed next to him.
"It's okay," you say, huffing out a laugh. He looks so young with his hair falling onto his face, and you resist the urge to push it back off his forehead. "Happens to the best of us."
"No, not that." He rolls over with a groan, flopping onto his back and scooting back so he can lay on your pillow. "I'm sorry I stopped calling."
Your heart skips a beat and you tuck your hair behind your ear, needing to occupy your hands somehow as your mind races with a million questions. "It's my fault too."
"No, it's not."
He isn't slurring his words anymore, but you can still hear the earnestness that only comes when one's filter is completely shattered. He was never one to hide things from you, but you also know how truthful people can get when alcohol takes their mask away.
"Haley and I have been having problems for a while," he mutters, making you sigh. So that's why he flew here in the middle of the school year. "We haven't been seeing eye to eye on a lot of things, and we decided to take a break, but I haven't told anyone, because the only person I wanted to tell was you."
You can't look at him. His gaze is too much, his eyes too full of truth and intensity. "Hotch-"
"I miss you so much," he says, cutting you off. "You're the only person I've ever really been able to talk to, but you know that, don't you? It's the same for you, it has to be."
You don't say anything. The air feels thick with tension, and you're afraid that if you say something, the room will explode.
"She's the perfect girlfriend," he says wistfully, his voice tight with an emotion you can't decipher. "I know it's me who's fucking it up, and I hate myself for it, because she's trying so hard to make this work. But every time it feels perfect, and I think I've finally gotten what I wanted, I just remember-"
"Aaron."
You look at him and his eyes are already staring into yours. You have wanted him to love you the way you loved him for years, but not like this. Never like this.
"You can't fuck this up," you whisper, your voice stronger than you expect it to be. "Call Haley tomorrow morning. Tell her you're sorry, and that you love her, because you do. You know you do."
"I love her," he nods as sleep pulls his eyelids down. "Tomorrow..I'll call her."
You watch him as his limbs relax and his breathing evens out, but you don't fall asleep until the sun starts to rise and you physically can't keep your eyes open anymore.
***
"Happy All Hallow's Eve, folks."
Reid pulls his mask off as Derek looks at him with a frightened frown.
"Are you scared of Halloween?" you ask him, trying to keep the grin off your face.
"I didn't say I was scared," he corrects, glancing over at Reid, who drops his mask on his desk and pushes his hair back from his face, "I said I was creeped out."
"What creeps you out about it?" Emily asks, before grinning at you.
"I bet it's the candy," you joke. "Those muscles probably cower at the sight of anything that isn't meat or protein powder."
Emily snorts and Derek frowns at both of you. "It's the masks. I don't like people in disguises."
"That's the best thing about Halloween," Reid chimes in. "You can be anyone you want to be."
Derek grins. "No, I'm pretty good just being me."
You and Emily share a look. "Yeah, why is it that neither of those points of view surprise me?"
"Guys," Reid suddenly calls out, his voice hushed. "He's here."
You turn around to see Hotch walking down the stairs, accompanied by Agent David Rossi, who you've heard a lot about in your years at the bureau. He was one of the founding members of the BAU, and you can't help but wonder what made him want to come back.
JJ introduces him to everyone, before Reid starts spouting off a list of facts from one of the old cases he solved when he was the chief of the unit.
"Reid, slow down," Hotch says with an uncharacteristic smile. "He'll be here for a while. Catch up with him later."
He nods. "Right, sorry."
Agent Rossi doesn't seem fazed. "No problem, Doctor."
This pleasantly surprises you. It's all too often that new people who meet Spencer don't immediately treat him with the respect he deserves.
"Let's start the briefing."
***
The flight back from Texas is hushed. The case went about as well as you could hope, with them catching the unsub and saving the final victim, but the way Rossi went rogue over and over again has rubbed you the wrong way.
You watch him across the cabin as he pores over his little notebook, and you wish you could peek inside his head. You know that the team aspect of the BAU is a newer addition to the unit, but you don't understand how he can keep all of his thoughts to himself.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Gah," you fright, jumping in your seat. "When did you sit next to me?"
Hotch shrugs, his lip quirking up. "A few minutes ago."
"Well, you should really wear a bell or something, god."
"Y/N," he says, giving you a pointed look. He doesn't let you use your evasion tactics anymore. Given your penchant for aimless talking, you suppose that's a good thing.
"I was just thinking about Rossi," you sigh, glancing up at him again. "Lying to the press to get a reaction from the unsub? Taking over that phone call? I don't like how he works, Hotch."
"He's from a different time," he says, even though you can hear the agreement in his voice, "but he worked with Gideon, and if you remember, it took you a while to warm up to him too."
You heave out a breath but it's the only concession you're willing to give in this moment.
"He's used to an older way of doing things, but he's a great agent."
"He clearly has good ideas," you whisper, "but I just worry that you'll have to work over time to keep him under control."
Hotch ponders this, and you think that maybe he knows you're right. Your eyes shift up and you realize his hair has been shorter for a while now, but you're still not used to seeing so much of his forehead. Not that there's anything wrong with his forehead. It's a fine forehead.
"He was the team leader before he retired," Hotch says suddenly. "He may be tough as a subordinate now, but I'm still glad he's back. We needed someone to fill Gideon's spot, we were low on hands."
"Speaking of, why do you think he's back."
He looks at you with a quizzical frown. "Is it really so hard to believe that he may just want to help us out?"
You think for a second, before shrugging. He laughs.
"I don't know," you concede, with a small chuckle. "I think I'm just expecting things from him that aren't fair."
He turns his body to face you. "Like what?"
You press your lips together, trying to formulate your words properly, so you can clearly articulate the tornado of thoughts in your brain. "I know Gideon wasn't a father figure exactly, but he was someone that Reid and Elle latched onto."
Hotch exhales. "I don't know if Gideon is someone I'd want as a father."
You let out a surprised laugh. "Fair enough."
"How is your father doing, by the way?"
You blink in surprise. It's not that he doesn't talk about your family, it's just that the timing is uncanny. You haven't spoken to him in months. After your mom died, you two were almost inseparable, but then you left for school, and you realized how much bigger the world could be when you weren't always bogged down by your grief. "I haven't called him in a while."
"What did he say after Golconda?" he asks, his voice gentle. After Frank, he means.
You close your eyes, guilt flooding your body. "I never told him."
"What?" You don't look at him, but you can see the shock in the stiff line of his posture. "Did something happen between you two?"
You shake your head, your protectiveness over your family flaring up at the concern in his eyes. "Nothing happened. I just didn't want to worry him."
"That's his job," Hotch stresses, scooting his leg over so his knee bumps yours. "If something like that had happened to Jack, I wouldn't know what to do with myself."
"That's what I'm scared of," you tell him, your eyes flitting over to the window, where the clouds are dancing across the horizon. Sometimes, when you're on the jet, you like to pretend that the time up here isn't real. That as long as the world looks like a series of splotches and blinking lights, nothing can really hurt you. "My mom's death nearly killed him. I learned to cook when I was ten, because he couldn't leave his room for a month." Hotch knows all of this already, but he lets you vocalize your thoughts, obviously knowing how badly you need reassurance for the guilt you're feeling. "Then, when Jeff died, I stayed with him for a few weeks to have some company, but...but.. I was so glad when I left, because then I could finally let myself fall apart."
He reaches under the armrest and clasps your hand in his, extending the comfort you didn't know you needed.
"I've never told anyone that," you whisper, feeling your voice tighten with tears. "I love my dad, I love him so much, but I just needed the chance to recover on my own."
"He loves you too," Hotch says, finally breaking his silence. "You know he loves you. I still remember the themed sandwich baggies that he packed your lunch with all through middle school."
You choke out a laugh. "You would always steal the Spiderman ones."
He smiles, squeezing your hand once. "Maybe you just need to give him another chance to be who you want him to be. He might just surprise you."
You know he's right. Somehow, he's always right.
You nod, flashing him a small smile, and lean your head on his shoulder as the clouds float past your window.
***
He glances at his watch for the tenth time since he sat down in his office. The plane landed just over an hour ago, and he sent you home immediately with the instruction to get some rest. He probably should have gone home too, but ever since he got his new apartment, home hasn't felt the same.
He used to be able to look around any corner and see a memory: the couch where he and Haley made love on their first night at home, the soft carpet where Jack took his first steps, the doorframe where he measured his height on his first birthday as Haley held him up by the arms. He also remembers that he wasn't there to see Jack's first steps; he was in Pittsburgh, working a case and thanking his lucky stars that Haley had had the foresight to take a photo as his son stood upright all by himself.
He lifts the picture frame from the edge of his desk, running his fingers over the cool glass and looking at the blue drawing underneath. Jack had drawn his favorite cartoon character and left it for him on the kitchen table, a few nights before his suspension went into effect.
Putting it back down, he looks at the photograph of him holding onto Haley as she clutches newborn Jack to her chest in the hospital. He still has the photo of just him and her on their wedding, but he pushed it to the back, behind the pictures of Jack, and the one of you and him at law school graduation.
A knock sounds at his door and he looks up to see Dave standing in his doorway. "Can I come in?"
"Of course," he says, waving him in. He doesn't sit down, so Hotch stands up too, unsure of how he feels about the power imbalance in the room. "What can I do for you?"
"You said out there, 'The team shares everything.'"
He nods. "That's right."
"There is no 'I'?"
He nods again, not liking where this may be going.
Dave glances down at his desk, where his phone sits next to the picture frame of his family. "Seems a big thing to withhold. Separating from your wife, your child."
He freezes, unconsciously looking at the door to see if anyone heard. "What are you talking about?"
"You used to call Haley 10 times a day," Dave says, his voice not unkind. "We've been together 48 hours and I haven't seen you call her once. You haven't mentioned her, and you're not going home now."
He frowns, feeling his brow settle into place like it's a uniform he wears whenever he's at the office. "What's your point?"
"I guess you're just not used to sharing."
He doesn't say anything, but Rossi seems to interpret this the wrong way. "Or maybe it's something else." He looks out the window at the empty bullpen, but the implication is still clear. "Was it because of...?"
"What?" He doesn't know where this is coming from, but he can't stop the anger that rumbles through him at the connotation. Unable to help it, he looks down at your desk, and Dave tuts.
"I won't say anything."
"Dave," he shakes his head, trying to remain calm. "You have it all wrong. She's my best friend...since we were children. It isn't like that. It was never-"
It was never like that. That's what he's about to say, but that wouldn't be true. Rossi is a good enough profiler that he would be able to spot a lie from a mile away, so he shuts his mouth and shakes his head again. "It's not like that."
"Okay," he accepts, lifting his hands in surrender. "My mistake."
Hotch nods, and Dave leaves his office, but he can't get their conversation out of his head until later that night when his head hits his pillow and his eyes finally fall shut.
***
"Hey, Dad."
You called him when you got home from work that night, and he answered on the second ring. "Hi, sweetheart."
"How are you?" you ask, clutching the phone to your ear as you sink down onto the couch in your living room.
He doesn't answer for a moment, and you can hear him taking a breath. "I'm good, Y/N, how are you? Is work going well?"
"It's good," you tell him. "Really good. We were able to save a woman today, before the unsub could kill her."
"Unsub?"
"Unknown subject," you explain, quickly realizing just how long it's been since you've spoken to him. "It's what we call the bad guy before we know who he is."
"Right," he says, and you can practically see him rubbing a hand over his face, his nervous tic. "I knew that. Anyway, how is everything in your life? Do you still work with Aaron?"
"Yeah, I do," you say with a laugh. "He was actually asking about you earlier today."
"That's nice of him," your dad says, his voice brightening slightly. "He was always a good friend to you."
You tell him about your most recent case, and about Gideon and Elle leaving the team, but eventually you can't evade the topic you've been trying to avoid all night.
You're okay, you think to yourself. Frank can't hurt you anymore.
"Dad," you whisper, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. In 1, 2, 3. Out 1, 2, 3. "I have something to tell you."
Then you tell him everything, and he just listens, exactly like you hoped he would.
***
"I met this guy." You didn't even see Penelope approach you, but here she is, looking at you like she's about to say something dirty.
"Hell yeah," you grin, trying to match her energy. "Where?"
"A coffee shop," she smirks. "He was having trouble with his computer, so I fixed it for him, and then he asked for my number."
"Look at you," you joke, giving her a side squeeze, "putting your technical analyst skills to good use."
"Thank you," she huffs, throwing an annoyed glance over her shoulder. "That's more of the response I was looking for."
"What do you mean?"
"Derek," she says simply, and you nod, already knowing where she's going with this. You know they have an uncommon relationship, so you're not surprised that he didn't react exactly how she hoped he would.
"He's an idiot," you tell her, patting her arm.
She laughs. "You don't even know what he did."
"Uh, yeah," you say, turning around to face the bullpen, "I definitely do."
***
The case takes the team to Florida, where an unsub has been feeding women their fingers, killing them, and then carving pentagrams in their skin.
The pentagrams suggest a religious element, so you go with JJ, Morgan, and Rossi to the local church to meet with the priest.
"Rossi, do me a favor," Morgan says just before you walk inside. "You talk to the priest, all right?"
You remember his agitation on the jet when Reid prodded him about his beliefs, and given the cruelty of his childhood, a crisis of faith wouldn't surprise you.
"Hi, Father Marks," JJ greets the priest when you enter the church. She introduces all of you to him, before shaking his hand. "We're sorry we have to be here under these circumstances."
"It's good of you to come," he says, greeting all of you. "Abbey's parents are upstairs in my office."
"We'll go up," Rossi says with a nod, "but Agent Morgan actually has some questions for you."
Your eyes flash to Rossi, but he doesn't return your gaze.
"I have some questions too," you offer, and Derek nods gratefully.
The priest answers the few questions Derek spits out at him, and you watch as his eyes wander around the hall, his shoulders raised with tension. You insert a few of your own questions before heading outside with him to wait for JJ and Rossi to finish up with the victim's parents.
"What happened in there?" you ask when he doesn't meet your eye. "Being rude to Father Marks? That wasn't like you."
"You know what happened to me, L/N," he says angrily, kicking his foot out at a loose stone on the pavement. "I went to church everyday, and I prayed for it to stop, but you know what God did? Nothing."
"I know what a crisis of faith looks like, Derek." You stand in front of him, forcing him to look at you. "But Father Marks doesn't know your story. He's not judging you, he's just showing his faith how he knows best."
His shoulders are still tense as his jaw twitches. "Who does Rossi think he is, throwing me under the bus like that?"
"He's an instigator," you shrug, letting the topic slide for the time being. You'll talk to him again later if he still needs it.
"I didn't love the way Gideon did things either," Derek says, his posture going from agitation to annoyance, "but Rossi might just take the cake. Even if he is better with the victim's families."
"I can't help you there," you almost laugh. "I had the same conversation with Hotch after the case in Texas, and he managed to convince me to give the guy a chance. So...if you can't bring yourself to trust him, just think of it as putting your trust in Hotch."
Derek hums, bumping your shoulder with his. "I guess I can do that."
***
The search party for Tracey Lambert only leads to the unsub taking another woman, and suddenly the ticking clock gets a lot louder. By the time you find his lair and the bodies he has been cannibalizing for years, you're already struggling to keep down even the water you've been drinking. When he reveals where Tracey actually is, you feel so sick, you can't breathe.
When the jet lands back in Virginia, you go home immediately, desperately needing some peace and quiet away from the team for the first time in a while. But that doesn't last long.
You're awoken by the shrill ringing of your home phone. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you check the number and answer the phone. "Is this payback for the last time I called you past midnight?"
"Y/N...it's Garcia."
You shoot up into a sitting position as Hotch explains what happened. "How bad is it?"
"I don't know."
"I'm on my way."
You change into a sweater and a pair of loose jeans before grabbing your keys and flying out the door.
"She's in surgery," JJ tells you when you find them in the waiting room. She pulls you into a hug before returning to her hunched position in an uncomfortable vinyl chair.
"There's no other word," Hotch adds, giving you a quick hug as well. With his cheek pressed against your temple, he whispers, "Police think it may have been a botched robbery."
"Where's Morgan?" Emily asks, standing up from her chair.
"He's not answering his cell."
Reid nods, stepping away. "I'll call him again."
He squeezes your hand before he exits the waiting area, and you glance down at JJ again. Her eyes are red from crying, and her chin is pressed into her palm as she stares at the floor. You watch as Emily sits next to her and pats her hand, before clasping it in hers.
You don't realize you've been staring at the same spot on the floor until Hotch stands next to you and nudges your shoulder. You okay?
"I will be," you say out loud, barely registering that he didn't actually ask you anything. "As soon as she's out of surgery." When you got the call that Penelope was shot, you had been hit by an intense feeling of deja vu. Only this time, the call didn't come from bureau leadership, because she wasn't killed at the scene. Because she's going to make it.
He doesn't seem fazed as he checks his watch again, his frown lines deepening. "It shouldn't take this long to get an update."
"Where have you been?" Reid asks suddenly. You look up to see Derek walking into the waiting room, his eyes wide with panic.
"I was in church. My phone was off."
"There's nothing you could have been doing here," Rossi assures him, before nodding at Hotch and pulling him aside to discuss something with the deputies outside. You use the momentary lull to approach Derek, putting your hand on his arm as an initial test. When he doesn't jerk back, you pull him into a hug that he returns gratefully.
The doctor walks in a few minutes later and explains that Penelope will be fine, but she needs to rest until the morning.
"David and I will go to the scene," Hotch informs, his eyes fixing each of you with an empathetic look. "I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially, or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."
When they leave, you pull Derek down into the chair next to you and lean your head onto his shoulder. After a beat, he relaxes in his seat, and lets out a long sigh. "She's okay."
***
Early the next morning, the doctor shakes you all awake with the notice that Penelope's up, so you rush into her room, trying not to crowd her as she blinks awake.
"Hi," she says softly, her voice small. She looks so innocent, laying in her hospital bed with her blonde hair a halo around her head. You can't imagine how anyone would want to hurt someone like her.
"No tears," she smiles as you swallow down your anger. "I'm afraid if I start crying, I'll come unstapled."
JJ presses a kiss to her cheek, before Derek and Emily start gently plying her with the usual questions. When it comes out that the man who shot her was the same man who asked her out at the coffee shop, your anger turns to anguish, and you reach forward to squeeze Penelope's hand in an effort to comfort her.
"I just thought he liked me," she whispers, the pain in her voice breaking your heart.
"We need a name," Emily asks abruptly. You can see her mentally kicking herself at how serious her words came out, but you know Penelope understands the gravity of this situation.
"James Colby Baylor."
She asks you and JJ to stay back for a second as the rest of the team leaves to investigate Baylor.
"What's up, honey?" you ask, smiling at her sweetly as she uses her other hand to take JJ's.
"I feel so stupid," she sighs, her breath turning into a gasp as tears fill her eyes. "Maybe Derek was right about all of it."
"No," JJ says sternly, reaching forward to brush some of her hair behind her ear. "None of this is on you."
"What she said," you echo, nodding at JJ, "and don't listen to Morgan. He loves you, and he's very protective over you, but he's also a man."
She sniffles out a laugh, before pressing her lips together. "One last thing."
JJ blinks. "Anything."
"Please don't talk about me like I'm a victim."
***
The case wraps up back at the office, where Baylor, whose real name is Deputy Battle, was shot in the head by JJ, who doesn't seem as plussed by the situation as you would expect. You tried to talk to her afterwards, but after telling you she was fine, she put all of her attention on Penelope, who has spent the last week recovering at home.
Now, you're sitting in the break room stirring your black coffee, just for something to do. Hotch finds you in there and walks inside, shutting the door behind him.
"It's been a long week," he grumbles, looking longingly at the spot next to you on the worn couch.
You lift your cup and nod your head at the full coffee pot. "That's what caffeine's for."
"We really should sleep at some point," he says, filling up a paper cup and carefully dropping into the spot beside you. The couch you chose is small enough that his thigh presses against yours when he spreads his legs even the slightest bit.
You snort. "Sleep's overrated."
You both sip your steaming coffees in silence as you watch the other agents shuffle back and forth across the bullpen, unaware of your watchful eyes. The break room is the one place in the office to go for a little bit of privacy, but the unobstructed view of everyone's desks isn't unpleasant either. You imagine this is how Hotch feels when he looks out his office window.
Your eye catches on the stapled wood planks that are currently replacing the broken glass door that leads into the bullpen. He must be looking at the same thing, because he breaks the silence and says, "I think we may need to get JJ out into the field more."
His tone catches you off guard and you crack a small smile. "She does seem remarkably well-adjusted, given that it was her first time."
He nods, turning his head to look at you. "Do you remember your first time?" Killing someone, is the part he doesn't say out loud.
"Of course." You take a deep breath and gulp back more coffee. "He was a serial rapist in Texas. One shot to the heart. I wasn't trying to kill him, he just ran at the last second."
"Serial killer in Florida," he responds simply. "Headshot. He died instantly."
"That was your first year at the BAU, right?" He nods and you sink back into the cushions. "I wasn't even in the field then."
He hums, a low sound that you feel as vibrations on your skin. "I worry that I brought you in here too early. Jeff had just died, and I assumed that getting you out of the house and in the field would take your mind off of things, but I wonder sometimes if I made the wrong call."
"You didn't," you assure him, turning your body to face his, even as he doesn't meet your eye. "First of all, you brought me in six months after he died, and by then, I definitely needed an excuse to leave my bedroom."
He sighs, a small concession, and you continue. "The first case I went into the field for after he died, I could barely hold my gun. Every time I pulled it on someone, I would imagine his body...with all of those bullet holes...and I would just freeze up. It took me months to pass my firearm certification again, but I still don't regret it."
"You sure?" he asks, his voice almost timid.
"Positive," you smile, nudging your thigh against his. "Besides, I didn't realize it until later, but it wasn't getting out into the field that helped me through my grief...it was meeting the team. These people became my family in the moment that I needed one most."
You turn back to your coffee and sip it again, though it's no longer as hot as you'd like it to be.
"How are you doing, by the way?" he asks suddenly. "With Garcia, I mean."
An involuntary shudder runs through you as you remember her pale face in her hospital bed last week, but the warmth of the coffee cup in your hands makes it pass quickly. "I'll never get used to it. But she's okay now, so hopefully it'll be easier this time."
***
You're jotting down notes in the margins of a new case file JJ asked you to look over when your cell phone rings. Hotch and Reid are at a nearby prison, interviewing a serial killer on death row for the Criminal Personality Research Project, so you're not expecting a call from either of them. The rest of the team, except for Rossi, is scattered around the bullpen, but you don't expect him to call you either.
After finishing the line you were writing, you check your phone and see a name you haven't spoken to in weeks.
"Haley," you answer after clicking open your cell. "Is everything okay?"
"I know you're busy," she sighs, her voice tight with what you can only decipher as irritation, "but I didn't know who else to call. Aaron hasn't been answering my phone calls."
You get up from your desk and step out into the hallway to get some privacy. "He and Dr. Reid are at a prison right now, interviewing a criminal for this research project. There likely isn't any cell service out there."
"It's not just today, Y/N," she says, her tone getting colder as she inadvertently directs her anger towards the only person she can get ahold of. "He hasn't been taking my calls for days."
"I can talk to him," you suggest, trying to keep your tone light in an effort to keep this conversation from derailing. "I'll tell him to give you a call."
"I appreciate that," she sighs, losing her steam. "I'm sorry for involving you, I just really need to speak with him about something."
"Is everything alright with you and Jack?" you ask her quickly, wanting to make sure that you aren't making the wrong assumptions about why she's calling.
"Oh!" she inhales sharply. "Yes, of course, we're doing great. Well, great maybe isn't the right word, I didn't mean- I just-" She sighs. "You know what I mean."
"I do," you assure her as your heart twists at the sound of her shallow breathing. You know how hard the separation has been on Hotch, but you know Haley too, and she has always been better at hiding her pain that she seems. "Where have you been staying?"
"With Jess," she says, her voice brightening considerably at the mention of her sister. "She's been a godsend. I feel terrible taking up so much of her space, but she doesn't seem to mind."
You smile, remembering the few times you met Jessica Brooks while Haley and Hotch were together. "She definitely doesn't mind. She always loved children. I bet she's already scheming on how to steal Jack from you."
Haley laughs, and the sound is like wind chimes twinkling in your ear. "She totally is."
Her laughter slowly fades, and you both stay on the line for a few moments in comfortable silence.
"I'll tell him to call you," you promise.
"I know," she sighs. "Thank you."
***
The prison was a bust, but Reid got a chance to use his intelligence to get them out of a tough spot without anyone getting hurt, so the day wasn't a total loss.
He is sitting in his office, drafting an email to the project coordinator, when you walk inside and take a seat in front of his desk.
"Thanks for knocking," he says sarcastically before finishing up the sentence he was working on. Once it's done, he saves the draft and turns off his computer. "How was Indianapolis?"
"Good," you say, leaning back in the chair. "Great, actually. Rossi got to close up the case that's been haunting him for a decade, and the three kids are finally safe."
"I'm surprised he wasn't more excited when he got back," he notes, watching your body language. You look wired, but not about this. Something else is bothering you.
"The unsub wasn't exactly the most gratifying arrest," you sigh, rubbing a hand over your temple. "We don't even think he committed the murders intentionally."
He frowns, shaking his head. "Those are the worst kind."
You're silent for a moment before you sit up straighter and look at him. "Haley called me this morning. While you were at the prison."
"Oh?" Something that feels like ice slithers down his spine even though he can probably guess exactly how the conversation went.
All week, he has felt an enormous weight on his chest in the form of a stack of divorce papers that Haley served him with. She had called him right after, with the explanation that they both should have seen this coming, but he really hadn't. He was a profiler, whose entire job was to notice and analyze human behavior, and he truly hadn't been able to let himself believe that this could be a possibility. That his marriage could actually be over.
"She said you've been ignoring her calls."
He had been ignoring them. He knew she would just tell him to sign the papers, and he couldn't bear to hear her say it again. Once was enough.
He reaches into his desk and pulls out the manila folder that he hasn't opened since his initial read-through. He suspects you already know what he's about to tell you, but he also knows that it won't feel real until he says it out loud. And it's about time he came to terms with what his life would be from now on. "Haley wants me to sign the divorce papers, uncontested."
"She doesn't want to involve a lawyer?" you ask, your voice delicate as you walk him through the explanation with clarifying questions. It's the technique they use when interviewing the families of victims, to help them feel comfortable as they talk about the hardest thing they've ever gone through. He's surprised at how reassuring it feels coming from you.
He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. It has grown out a bit since he last cut it, but he doesn't think he minds. Haley wanted him to cut it short when Jack was in his grabbing and teething phase, but now, he likes how he can push it back when he wants. "I don't want to sign, of course, but she's adamant that we get this done soon."
"You'll be okay," you say, and he looks up in surprise. "You're a good man, Aaron."
"I'm not," he whispers, heaving out a sigh. "I'm not doing anything right. At home, I was an awful husband and an absent father, and at work, Strauss would replace me if she had even the slightest bit more ammunition. I can't focus in either place. Maybe Haley's right, maybe I'm just selfish."
You lean forward and grab his hand, even as he doesn't look at you. "You're not selfish. You're the farthest thing from selfish. You don't want to sign, but you will. You're giving her what she wants, even though it's the last thing you want."
He nods, but his heart isn't in it. He glances down at the folder again and takes a deep breath as you give him a small smile and stand up.
"I'll see you tomorrow, boss?"
He nods again. "See you tomorrow."
When the door shuts behind you, he flips open the folder, faster than he meant to, but he's afraid if he doesn't do this quickly he'll lose his nerve. Grabbing a random pen from the mug on his desk, he uncaps it and scrawls out his initials on all of the earmarked lines throughout the stack.
When he finishes the last page, he shuts the folder and leans back in his chair, letting out a long exhale. He did it. He supposes he should feel some sort of severing away of his old life, maybe an audible snap as the ties to his marriage get cut, but there's just silence.
His office suddenly feels stifling, and he loosens his tie before reaching forward and lifting the picture frame with him and Haley on their wedding day. Her smile still looks beautiful to him, and his content expression as he gazes at her doesn't make him feel anything different. Their marriage may be over, but he still loved her.
He runs his thumb over the smooth edge of the frame, and then opens his desk drawer, before sticking it inside and pushing it closed.
***
"Thank you for watching him," Hotch says, his voice slightly muffled over the phone.
"Of course," you smile, sitting down on your couch with the pasta you made for dinner. "It was my pleasure. Jack's a total sweetheart."
Jess was out of town for a couple of days, so he had asked you to watch Jack while he and Haley met up to finalize the divorce in front of an attorney. She had been adamant about finishing the process over the phone, but he wanted to ensure that she and Jack would be taken care of after the papers went through.
"Did he eat lunch?"
"Kind of," you say, quickly swallowing the bite you took. "He didn't want a full meal, but I got him to eat some fruit and bread with cheese."
"I'll make him a snack soon," he says quietly, but you can tell he's just thinking out loud. "Alright, I'll see you at the office. Thanks again."
"Always," you tell him, genuinely. "See you."
The phone clicks off and you scarf down the rest of your pasta before doing your dirty dishes and cleaning up your kitchen. You're considering whether to change into your workout clothes so you can crank out a few miles on your Peloton, but then you hear a knock on your door.
You're not expecting anyone, and with Hotch watching Jack, it can't be him. You peek around the corner into your foyer to see who's at the door, and relax when you spot a familiar mop of brown hair.
"I'm sorry I didn't call first," Spencer says when you open the door, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his book bag. "I just didn't know how to ask you this over the phone."
"Spence, what is it?" you ask, opening the door further to let him in. He doesn't step forward, and a pinprick of anxiety enters your system.
"If I come inside, I won't be able to do this," he says vaguely, before reaching into his bag and pulling out a flyer. He hands it to you and you read the title, the tension seeping from your body as the words sink in: Narcotics Anonymous for Law Enforcement.
"I know it's a lot to ask," he whispers, "but would you drive me to the meeting tonight?"
Your heart feels like it's about to crack open. Only a boy who was never looked after, never given the love and care he deserved, would think that something like this was too much to ask.
"It's not too much," you tell him, glancing down at the address. "I'll get my keys."
When he's settled in your passenger seat, you pull out of the driveway, not commenting on the fact that his car is parked on the street beside your sidewalk. You understand the need for company more than most people.
The drive to the rec center where the meeting is being held is mostly silent, but you don't press him. He stares down at his hands for most of the ride, and when you stop in front of the entrance, he unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you. "Thank you."
"Of course," you smile. "I can wait, if you'd like."
He gives you a thin-lipped smile. "It's okay."
"You sure?"
He presses his lips together and looks at you, his eyes reflecting the question in yours.
"Go on," you say, patting his arm. "I'll be here."
He nods and steps out of your car, and you pull into a parking space to wait in while he's in the meeting. You turn on the radio and it's the same song they've been playing for the last week, so you turn the volume down low and close your eyes for a few peaceful moments.
You must have fallen asleep, because you're jarred awake by the chirping sound of your cell phone ringing. It's a bureau number, so you clear your throat and answer the call. "L/N."
"Hey, Y/N." It's JJ, and she sounds tired. "We have a case. It's urgent, so we're flying to Texas tonight."
You sigh louder than you meant to. "I can be there in 20."
"See you soon."
The line clicks off and you rub the sleep from your eyes. A quick check of your watch tells you that you were only asleep for about a half hour, but that's just half of the meeting time. You know Spencer will come back when he gets the call, so you turn the radio off and sit up in your seat.
A few minutes later, he returns to the car. You saw him just over 30 minutes ago, but he already looks lighter than he did when he got to your house.
"I'm proud of you, Spence," you tell him as you start the car.
He nods, a quick thanks. "This federal agent gave me his one year medallion after I left the meeting. I've only been clean for 10 months, but he still gave it to me."
"He believes in you," you say simply, glancing over at his confused expression.
"He doesn't even know me."
You shrug. "You don't have to really know someone to care about them, Spencer. You just have to see something of yourself in them."
"Is that what you see in me?" he asks, finally looking at you.
You consider this for a moment. Is that why you feel so protective over him?
"I don't know," you say eventually, not wanting to lie, even by accident. "I definitely wasn't as smart as you were, or as focused. I wasn't all that driven in high school at all, to be honest. I was lucky to have Hotch. He gave me the push I needed to get out there and focus on school."
He's silent for a minute and you worry you may have said something wrong. Then: "I didn't have anyone in school." He pauses for a beat, before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. "I was in the library one day, and this girl comes up to me, and she tells me that Alexa Isben wants to meet me behind the field house. Alexa Isben was, like...easily the prettiest girl in school."
You frown, already not liking where this story is going. "Did she not show up?"
"No, she was there." His voice sounds almost resigned, but there's a note of something darker underneath. Something raw and painful, that likely still hurts after all these years. "But so was the entire football team. They stripped me naked and tied me to a goal post. So many kids were there, you know, just watching."
"No one stopped them?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.
"I begged them to, but they just...they just watched. Then finally they got bored and they left." He clears his throat, and the sound is small, like a little boy's. "It was like midnight when I finally got home. And my mom didn't...Mom was having one of her episodes, so she didn't even realize I was late."
"You never told her what happened?"
He shakes his head. "I never told anybody. I thought it was one of those things that I thought if I didn't talk about it, I'd just forget. But I remember it like it was yesterday."
"You don't need an eidetic memory for that, Spence," you whisper, trying to stay focused on the road even as his words swirl into your memories and create an agonizing hurricane of emotions. "I was only ten years old when my mom was killed, but I can still remember every moment of her funeral."
The field office comes into view and you push forward as you scan your badge and slide into a parking spot below the upper garage. When the car is in park, you undo your seatbelt and turn to him. "I know how hard it can be to push away the painful memories, but there's something more important that I need you to remember."
"Remember what?"
He looks at you then, and you reach forward to squeeze his hand. "You're not alone anymore."
***
"Is it always this hot?" You look up at the beating sun through your shaded sunglasses and fan your face with both of your hands.
"Every day, all day," Emily huffs, running her fingers through her bangs to unstick them from her forehead.
Everyone is sweltering in the Miami heat, but then Derek gets off the plane with a wide grin, his skin glistening in the sun, and you resist the urge to throw your bag at him. "South Beach, baby."
He immediately shuts up when he spots the stunning Miami PD detective who called your team in for the recent string of murders. JJ shoots you a smirk before introducing her to the team. "Detective Lopez. We spoke on the phone."
"Tina," she corrects, before shaking her hand. "Thank you for coming down so quickly."
"Hey," Emily says from beside you, making you turn to see what she's looking at. "Isn't that..."
You spot the person she's referring to, and your face splits into a big smile. "Detective LaMontagne!"
"He's here to ID the cop they pulled from the bay last night," Tina explains.
You don't miss the flush in JJ's cheeks as she shakes his hand. "Detective, good to see you."
"How are you?" you ask, giving him a quick hug that he returns.
"Yeah, Charlie Luvet and I worked together for seven years."
Derek frowns. "Sorry for your loss, man."
Tina looks confused, and you don't blame her. "So, you all know each other?"
"Professionally," JJ is quick to add. Will whips around to look at her, and you turn to Emily with an eyebrow raise, feeling like you're intruding on a private moment. You aren't sure why she won't just admit that they've been together since New Orleans, but that's her business.
***
You join JJ and Will at the IDing of Officer Luvet, and you keep your distance as he glances down at the body and affirms the report.
"Yeah, that's him."
JJ looks like she wants to comfort him, but instead she sticks to the professional approach. "If you need help making arrangements, liaising with families is part of what I do."
Will nods, his voice choking up slightly. "I might just take you up on that. Excuse me, I'll be outside."
When he steps outside of the coroner's office, you can't help but notice the longing look on JJ's face as she watches him go.
"Let's go," she says to you softly, her eyes still on the door. You follow her outside, but by then Will is nowhere to be found.
"It's okay, you know," you blurt out. You weren't really planning on talking to her about this, but sometimes your mouth takes over before your brain can catch up. "I know you worry that being around a band of profilers all the time makes you vulnerable."
"I'm not sure what you're talking about," she says simply, not quite meeting your eye.
"JJ," you say seriously, trying to convey your pure intentions. "If you keep trying to hide it, you'll lose him."
She purses her lips, and you squeeze her forearm, hoping you aren't pushing past her boundaries. The whole team is sparing with details about their personal lives, but you like to think that you're someone people feel comfortable sharing things with.
"I know you, hon." You flash her a knowing smile, feeling a shot of satisfaction as her lip twitches. "I know that it's enough for you to know that you care about something, but it's not enough for everyone."
She exhales, tucking her hair behind her ears. "He's upset with me, but I don't know what to do. I'm still scared."
You sigh, understanding her predicament, but still wanting her to push past it. "You can let yourself be happy, JJ. You won't always get hurt."
She nods before glancing around the room again, searching for Will even though he's long gone. It's an instinct you recognize.
Later, when JJ finally acknowledges their relationship by pulling him in for a kiss at the police station, you can't help but take it as a win.
***
Your house feels emptier than usual when you get back from Miami. Seeing JJ and Will find each other again reminded you of how much you miss having someone to share your life with.
Deciding to take a night to yourself, you pop open a bottle of red, and pour yourself a glass, which you swirl around before taking a sip. It's drier than you tend to go for, and when you check the label, you realize that's because you didn't buy it.
How can you drink this stuff?
It makes me feel sophisticated.
Jeff would break out the fancy glassware every chance he got, because he didn't believe in special occasions. He used to say that people waste precious moments of their life waiting for the right occasion to come around.
The memory feels warm in the back of your mind, and you take another sip of wine before walking over to your cupboard and grabbing the fanciest wine glass you can find. You pour the rest of your wine into the new glass and place the other in the sink, before swirling it around again. No time like the present.
You bring the glass to the couch with you, where you turn on the television and skip through the first few channels. As the wine in your glass depletes, the loneliness sets back in. You're about to pour yourself another pity glass when your phone buzzes with a call from Hotch.
"Do your television channels suck as much as mine do?"
You smile, muting the television and pressing the phone to your ear. "Definitely not."
He chuffs. "I guess I'm not used to the new tv controls."
Right, his new apartment. After the papers were finalized, he gave the house to Haley and moved into a new place ten minutes away.
"We can share mine," you say, listening to the sounds of his breath over the receiver. "I also have wine."
That gets a laugh. "I'll be there in 15."
You hear a knock on your door exactly 14 minutes later. When you open it, you're greeted with the sight of Hotch in a tee shirt and jeans. "A little underdressed, aren't we?"
He snorts, taking the wine glasses from your hands and following you into the family room. "What are we watching?"
"You're the one with the broken tv," you grin, flopping down on the couch and taking your glass from him. "What do you want to watch?"
He thinks for a minute, before his eyes sparkle with an idea. You cut him off before he can suggest what you already know he will. "We are not watching Top Gun again, Hotch!"
"You asked," he shrugs, hiding his smile behind a sip of wine. "What do you want to watch, then?"
You can see him watching you over the rim of his glass, so you blurt out the first name that comes to your mind. "Footloose."
He looks at you blankly for a moment, before his brow twitches, and your jaw drops. "You haven't seen Footloose?!"
"It came out when we were in high school," he groans, taking one of the throw pillows off the couch and stuffing it behind his back. "Terminator and Dune came out that same year. I remember because you tried to get me to watch it then too."
"It's an amazing movie!" you exclaim, standing up to go dig through your movie cabinet. "We're watching it right now."
He groans and sinks back into the pillows as you find the DVD and start the movie. You've seen it at least a dozen times, mostly because it makes you nostalgic for your teenage years, but the opening still gets you excited.
As the movie plays, you keep glancing over at Hotch, trying to see if he's enjoying the scenes just as much as you did on your first watch. To his credit, he watches the movie faithfully, without checking his phone or straying from the television screen.
"Enough," he grumbles suddenly, startling you.
"What?" you question, whipping your head around to face the screen.
"I'm watching the movie," he huffs, fixing you with a pointed look. "You don't have to keep checking."
You frown, hugging a pillow to your chest. "I wasn't checking, I just like seeing people's reactions to my favorite movies."
"Either way."
You groan, reaching out to thwack his arm.
"Eyes on the screen," he berates you, pointing at the TV. "The dance scene is starting."
You sip your wine bitterly as you try to resist the urge to glance over at him. Eventually, the movie takes over your attention and soon it's the final town council scene where Kevin Bacon gives a speech to the whole town.
"'There was a time for this law'," you quote along with the movie, "'but not anymore.'"
The movie comes to an end, and you click the remote to turn off the television. When you turn to Hotch with an excited grin, you're surprised to see that he has fallen asleep.
His head has fallen to the side, resting on the armrest, and he looks so peaceful with his expression completely neutral. His characteristic frown is nowhere to be seen as he snores quietly through his nose.
Your lips curve into a smile as you stand up and grab a blanket from a basket beside the couch. You drape it over his body, being careful not to wake him, and take the wine glasses to the sink before heading up for bed.
***
"That's because you pick horses the same way you practice law."
You hold your breath as he glances into the crowd for a brief second.
"...by always taking the long shot."
Emily snickers under her breath, and you see even Reid crack a smile as the lawyer starts floundering. The rest of the day in court goes by quickly and you all wait for Hotch in the hallway of the courthouse as he finishes up inside.
"That was impressive," you grin, nudging his shoulder as he walks alongside you. "I can't believe that was my first time seeing you in full prosecutor mode."
"Hardly," he says, rolling his eyes lightly. "I was called to give testimony, it's very different."
"I'm just surprised that prosecutor is still walking after how hard you hit him." He shoots you a look and you raise your hands in surrender. "Metaphorically, of course."
"That was a straight knock out." Derek comes up behind you and throws an arm around your shoulder as he spins you both to face Hotch. "The crowd practically cheered when you cleaned the floor with him."
"Thank you," he concedes, flashing his eyes at you. "Now let's get back to work. We still have to get more evidence for the rest of the trial."
And just like that, everyone switches back into work mode. Derek drops his arm and jogs forward to catch up to Rossi and Spencer, while Emily calls Garcia to get the latest update.
Using the moment of solitude, you bump his shoulder again. "Do you ever wish you were still a prosecutor? Your life would certainly be a lot simpler."
He shakes his head, the answer coming quickly and firmly. "I couldn't do it then, and I still couldn't now. Seeing the murderers come in after they've finished killing...I needed to know I could stop them before they were done."
His sentiment sounds familiar. Your mind flashes back to the little boy who took matters into his own hands, because no one could stop the pain for him.
You blink and it's present day again. You loved your best friend who fought his own battles without asking for help, and, even though he's vastly different, you love your best friend as he is now.
***
"Five shootings in two weeks."
"It's about time we got the call."
The whole team, plus Garcia, flies up to New York, where an unsub has been shooting people around the city, seemingly at random.
"Kate Joyner heads up the New York field office," Hotch explains, glancing down at his cell phone. "She's running point on the case and called me directly."
You have heard of her, which isn't too surprising, but all you know is that she's British and seems to be very good at her job.
"You know her?" Morgan asks him, echoing your thoughts.
Hotch nods. "We liaised when she was still at Scotland Yard."
They liaised. You don't know what that implies, but you also know that he and Haley didn't take a single break during their relationship after graduating college, so it can't be anything too personal.
JJ and Emily share a look, but you don't engage with them, instead looking back at the case file and trying to focus on any of the words that aren't 'Kate Joyner'.
***
"Kate."
A pretty blonde woman approaches you all with a smile only for Hotch. "Aaron. How have you been?"
He nods. "Well, thank you. This is my team." He introduces each of you to her, but you don't miss how her eyes linger on you when he mentions your name.
"Thanks for being here," she says, before walking you all through the background of the case. Shootings in different precincts, seemingly random, FBI only brought in after the fourth murder.
After explaining the details and introducing you to the local detectives on the case, she pulls Hotch aside for a private word in her office. You turn back to the team, trying not to let your gaze linger on them as they walk away.
The NYPD doesn't seem happy that SSA Joyner has taken over their case, but even though she comes off as a bit brusque, you can tell she cares about catching this unsub just as much as they do.
"What's your partner's problem?" Reid asks Detective Cooper, the only local officer who has made an effort to meet any of you.
"We're glad the FBI was brought in," he explains with a heavy sigh, "but all of a sudden Joyner's taking meetings with the mayor and calling in you all without us knowing anything about it."
You can understand his hesitation, but you also need his cooperation if you're going to get anything done here.
"We're only here to help," Emily tells him as you turn around to find JJ.
"Has Garcia gotten settled in with the New York tech analyst?" you ask once you find her staring at a map of the various boroughs. She doesn't answer immediately, so you nudge her shoulder. "JJ?"
"Huh?" she startles. "Oh, sorry, yeah. She called a few minutes ago, she's all good."
JJ is usually the focused one who brings you back on track, so you're surprised by how distracted she seems. You nod in acknowledgement, scrutinizing her expression for another second, before heading back to the team. Your eyes involuntarily dart over to Kate's office, and you notice how close together she and Hotch are. You're about to avert your eyes when their body language becomes a bit clearer: each time she leans in to say something, he subtly pulls back.
The dynamic of their relationship is suddenly apparent, and you mentally kick yourself for daring to assume the worst when he first mentioned her. You can't say the same for your opinion of her, though. He's still wearing his ring, for God's sake. Based on how little you've heard about her from him (nothing, you mean), you doubt she even knows about the divorce yet.
Derek and JJ head out with the detectives to check out the last crime scene, while you stay back with Emily and Spencer to build the anti-geographical profile. When another victim is shot, you head to the new scene to see if you can build a working profile.
"It's a different borough again," you sigh after getting out of the SUV and joining Hotch, Kate, Derek, and JJ in front of the body. "Prentiss and Reid are back at the office still working the profile from a geographical angle. We're starting to think maybe we should get officers out onto the high-traffic intersections, and maybe even get some of us out there too."
"Uniforms are rounding up witnesses," Kate jumps in, ignoring you. "It doesn't seem like anyone got a clean look."
You see Derek glance at you out of the corner of your eye, but you don't entertain the look. If she has some issue with you that you aren't aware of, you won't give her the satisfaction of letting her get to you. "The unsub's probably gone before anyone even realizes it's happening,"
Hotch nods, turning to face Kate. "Is this what it felt like during the Son of Sam."
She returns his gaze. "First we realized that if the violence was truly random, there was almost no way of stopping it. Seems like these people have figured that out."
You look up, trying to see if there's anything in the vicinity you can use to ID the unsub. Your eyes catch on a security camera outside one of the delis directly behind you. "From the placement of that camera, odds are the only view they're going to get is the back of his head."
She frowns. "Let's not be too quick to decide what we do or don't have."
This time it's both Derek and JJ that glance at you, but you turn to Hotch, who is avoiding meeting your eyes. Kate steps away to speak with the detectives at the scene, so you grab his arm and pull him aside. "What is her problem?"
He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. "FBI brass has made it clear to her that if she doesn't bring this case home, she's going to be reassigned. And you are at the top of the list to replace her."
"Replace her?" you echo, trying to process what he's saying. "I haven't even been in the BAU that long."
"It's not about field experience," he says, angling his body so that you're separated from the others. "You've been with the bureau longer than I have, and your work speaks for itself. It's not a surprise that they'd want to promote you."
You still can't wrap your head around the fact that you could be leading a unit yourself, or that you may have to leave the team you love, so you focus on what you do know. "I thought the bureau was proud of the fact that they stole her from Scotland Yard."
"I don't know," he shrugs, glancing back at her. "Politics here are different."
***
After finishing up at the crime scene, the whole team heads to the hotel to get some rest for the night. You feel more alert than you usually do after a long day of building a profile, and you adjust your bag strap on your shoulder as you dig around the side pockets for your room key. You don't plan on going to bed for at least a few more hours, and you might as well use the time to work on the case, but you need your key if you're going to get any sleep at all.
When your fingers finally catch on the thin plastic card, you look up to see a familiar face that you've been seeing more often than not, as of late. "Wait, isn't that..."
JJ looks up with a start, and she doesn't look distracted for the first time all day. "Will."
He gets up from the lobby chair he was lounging in and approaches her. "Hey, I took a shot and flew to D.C., but when it didn't work, I figured a train ride to New York was only a few more hours."
"Detective." Hotch reaches out and shakes his hand, before glancing at you with a frown that says, Did you know he was coming?
You shake your head imperceptibly and turn back to Will as he looks longingly at JJ. "Look, I'm sorry for showing up like this. I know you're working, but I can't stand you being on this case and me not being near." He pauses for a beat. "Not with what's going on."
That makes you frown too.
Hotch echoes your thoughts. "Is there a problem?"
JJ takes a deep breath and turns around to face all of you. "I'm pregnant."
Oh my God.
"Oh, my God," Emily exclaims, pulling her into a hug, the first of you to regain her bearings after hearing the news. "JJ, congratulations."
"That's amazing, JJ," you grin, hugging her next.
You don't miss how stiff Hotch is as Will shakes his hand. "I've asked JJ to marry me."
"Will," JJ says tightly, a warning in her voice.
He chuckles. "Well, we're working out some kinks."
"We'll give you both some privacy." Hotch turns away from them, his face falling the moment she can't see him anymore. You know he's hurt that she didn't trust him with this information, but you're surprised by just how downtrodden he seems.
JJ rushes after him. "Hotch-"
"JJ, you could have told me," he says softly, his voice both confused and stung.
She looks down. "I know."
"Because I understand if you need to take some time."
"No," she shakes her head, without a look back. "I want to be here."
"Okay," he nods, not looking at any of you. "7:00 AM."
You try to catch his arm as he walks off, but he either ignores it, or he doesn't feel you reaching for him. You choose to believe it's the latter.
***
You all deliver the working profile to the police officers first thing the next morning. While you're explaining an alternate possibility, Garcia calls with an update that a possible unsub was caught on camera shooting someone on a subway platform at one of the intersections you suggested that your team patrol yesterday.
"We could have had that guy," you say, your voice fuming with anger as you turn to Kate with a glare you haven't used in ages.
She doesn't falter. "Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved onto someone isolated."
"Maybe, but it was worth taking a shot."
She fixes you with a stare. "I had every available man on the street."
"And I suggested to you that you use this team." You can't believe that her decision to ignore your advice yesterday might have just cost someone else their life. You can see the rest of the team looking at you with some blend of concern or indignation on your behalf, but you don't care. You just need Hotch to back you up.
Instead he just looks at you. "L/N, second-guessing doesn't do us any good right now."
You're so angry, you can barely see straight. Emily reaches for your arm, but you shake her off. "Hotch, how are we supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we're actually here to help them, if she won't let us do our job?"
"We're here to present a profile," he says simply, not quite meeting your eye. "That's what we need to do."
You gape at him, your back straightening as you get ready to stand your ground. You don't disagree on things like this often, but when you do, it's usually a civil conversation that gets resolved quickly. You've never felt this angry about his handling of a case before, but then again, he's never not had your back before. "We've got seven bodies, Hotch."
He looks at you then, and you can't discern anything from his expression. It's a blank slate that sends a shiver down your spine. "It's not your place to have this discussion."
"Screw you."
You spin around, shoving away Derek and Emily as they try to talk you down. You stalk past them and out of the field office, where the cool evening air fills your sinuses and clears your head for a moment of silence. You stand on the sidewalk for a few seconds, waiting, and when he doesn't follow you out, you just manage to convince yourself that you're not disappointed, but relieved.
***
You're sitting at the hotel bar when Rossi finally finds you. You only ordered a lemon water, still feeling like you're on the clock, even if there's a good chance Hotch won't let you back into the investigation.
"I know," you huff when he takes a seat beside you. "I was out of line."
"You got too emotionally involved," he says, turning to face you. "I know you and Hotch are friends, but that doesn't mean you get to be unprofessional."
You sigh, your body deflating as all the fight leaves you. "I just felt like he was taking her side. Like he didn't have my back."
"There are no sides here."
You nod. "I know."
"And he does have your back." You look at him then, and he flashes you a small smile. "That man will always have your back. Right now, he's just worried about how Kate is holding up, with the word on the street."
That surprises you. "You know about the promotion?"
He nods. "People talk. But if she were to get fired, it would be because we didn't solve this case."
You frown, lifting your hand in defense. "Rossi, I hope you're not saying you think I want her to fail."
"Of course not," he shakes his head. "I just hope you know what you're doing."
"I lost my head for a second," you acknowledge, taking a sip of water. "I think I just needed a minute."
"And you got it," he says simply. "But right now, I see someone
who wants to get back on the job. Or is there another reason why
you ordered a glass of water at a bar?"
You set your glass down, letting out a surprised chuckle. "Where is everyone now?"
You both stand up, and he leads you out of the lobby. "Joyner took your advice. We're spreading out across the city."
***
"Emily, what happened?"
You rush forward to where she is standing over the dead body of a young man. Detective Cooper was taken in an ambulance to a nearby hospital after getting shot, and you only just arrived on the scene.
"He was strangely calm," she whispers as Derek and JJ come up behind her. "It's almost like suicide by cop."
"Why?" JJ thinks out loud. "Why would he do that?"
Derek looks at you. "We need to walk back through this profile."
Hundreds of thoughts are swirling through your brain, but based on the look on everyone's faces, you can tell they're thinking the same thing you are: terrorism.
After the crime scene officials arrive, you head over to your SUV to get back to the field office. Derek heads out to brief Homeland Security, and Reid leaves to talk to the Port Authority police, while Hotch and Kate call with the update that they will be going to speak with the mayor's office.
You start your SUV and pull out into the street when a loud explosion goes off a few streets behind you, the plume of smoke and fire large enough that you catch the high end of it in your rearview mirror.
You screech to a stop, just as your phone starts to ring.
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No Benefits
Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter
Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.
Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.
Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon
Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.
Previous chapter:
"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"
Chapter 3
Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks
Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.
Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.
Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"
Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.
Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."
She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly
"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."
Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."
Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.
"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.
Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."
Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."
Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.
"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."
He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."
Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"
Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."
Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."
She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.
"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."
Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.
"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."
He picked his head up and looked at Cookie
"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."
Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."
Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."
She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."
Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."
Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"
Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."
Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."
She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.
Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.
He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.
Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.
When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.
She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.
"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."
Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."
Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"
Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."
Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."
Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."
Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.
Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."
Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."
Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.
When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.
"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"
He looked to Sharon for an explanation.
Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"
"Of course agent Carter."
A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.
Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.
"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."
Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."
Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."
He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."
Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."
Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.
Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.
Chapter 4
The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.
@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#angst with a happy ending#james bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#no benefits
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Text
Waiting For Someone Better
Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: fluff
Summary: Prom is right around the corner, and you're waiting for someone special to ask you.
Squares Filled: free space for @spider-man-bingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
You keep your head down when you enter school because you don’t like the attention on yourself. However, when you see Peter at his locker, you bounce over to him, ignoring the stares you get.
“Hey, Peter,” you grin.
“Oh, hey, Y/N,” he stutters.
God, he’s so cute when he’s nervous.
“I missed you this weekend. I don’t like to study alone.”
“I’m sorry. I had something come up with my aunt, and it was this whole thing. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it,” he shakes his head and puts his books into his locker.
“Nah, I get it. You better make it this weekend.”
“I promise,” he smiles.
You stand there in awkward silence because you’re waiting for him to say something to you. Prom is next month and you still have no date for it. Peter gives you a side glance but doesn’t say anything about it.
“Okay, I’ll see you in class.”
“See ya,” he smiles.
Ned waits until you leave before joining his best friend’s side.
“Did you do it?”
“No,” Peter sighs.
“Why not? You had the perfect opportunity! You better do it soon before someone else asks her. I know Flash was looking at her the other day.”
“What?” Peter swivels his head to his best friend. “No, he wasn’t. Shut up. I’ll ask her.”
“Better be today.”
Peter and Ned say their goodbyes before Peter heads to his science class which he has with you… and Flash. You two have been lab partners for the whole year so maybe he’ll ask you during class. You smile when he walks in and his whole day suddenly gets better.
This class is meant to catch up on your project which you’re struggling with. Peter is so smart that this kind of stuff comes easily to him, so you’re hoping he can do a better job at explaining it to you than the teacher can.
“I really don’t understand this. Can you explain it to me so I can do my part better?” you ask him in a low voice.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers with a smile. “I’ll do it for you.”
He takes out the chemicals to make the special mixture and you watch with admiration at how easily this comes to him.
“I admire how smart you are. I wish I could be that.”
Peter lowers his head so you don’t see the blush on his cheeks and ears. There is a lot of chatter in the classroom as everyone tries to work on their projects so if Peter wants to ask you, then he can do it now without a bunch of people overhearing him. He’s going to do it. He has to do it now before someone else asks you.
He lifts his head and looks at you but no words can come out of his mouth. Flash is behind you just staring at you which makes him even all the more shy about this.
“So, Prom is next month,” you say and he snaps his eyes to you.
“I know,” he nods. “You’re on the committee for it, right?”
“Yeah. Are you going to go?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Are you/”
“Well, no one has asked me yet.”
You’d think the stare you’re giving Peter would be enough to tell him to ask you but he doesn’t. In fact, he can barely look at you. Maybe he doesn’t like you. You take this as your sign that you should move on to someone else.
When class ends, you and Peter pack up your things and are about to leave when Flash stops you.
“Hey, can I talk to you?”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” you say to Peter who only nods. You could have sworn you saw a look of disappointment but you could be wrong. “What’s up?”
“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush. Want to go to Prom with me?” There is something about the way he’s asking that gives you the ick. It’s like he’s cocky and is only doing this because he knows it’ll piss Peter off. Peter might not want to go with you but that doesn’t mean you’ll resort to Flash. You open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it. “Before you answer, tell me one thing. I beat Peter to it, huh?”
“Even if you did, there is no way I’d go to Prom with you.”
You leave Flash hanging and walk away from him to go to your next class. You didn’t see Peter for the rest of the school day since you only had science with him, and you didn’t see him after class since you had to go to your part-time job right after.
Your dad owns a men’s suit store in town that is very popular with the older folk, and he allowed you to be a cashier to make extra money and save up for something you really want like a car or a laptop. The first hour is pretty slow since everyone is still at work so you’re just moving about the store and tidying up the clothes as you see fit.
The bell on top of the door rings when someone enters, and you look to see Peter walk in.
“Peter? What are you doing here?” you chuckle.
“I’m looking for a suit to wear to Prom.”
“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.” Over the next ten minutes, he wanders the store and keeps sighing, indicating he’d like for you to ask him what’s wrong. “Okay, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” You’re about to leave to clean when he stops you. “So, you’re going to Prom with Flash?”
“And if I am?” you chuckle.
This time, you don’t miss the look of jealousy that flashes over his face.
“No big deal.”
Okay, this is just too fun. The longer you go without saying something, the more Peter is fuming. It gets to a point where you have to put him out of his misery.
“I’m joking, Peter. He asked but I said no.”
Peter’s shoulders tense and then relax.
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“Do you want to know why I said no?”
“Why?”
“I’m waiting for someone else to ask me.”
You keep eye contact for ten seconds before leaving his side to go back to the cashier’s desk. Wait, were you talking about him? Do you want him to ask you? Ned is right. If he keeps avoiding this, then someone else will ask you and you might not say no next time. He takes three deep breaths before going up to the counter and placing his hands on the desk as if he means business.
“Y/N? Will you go to Prom with me?”
“Yes,” you grin.
“Wait, really?”
“Yes, Peter,” you laugh, “I will go to Prom with you.”
“Awesome,” he smiles. “Okay, I gotta go. I have to get a suit.”
Peter is out the door before you can tell him he’s already in a store that sells suits. He’s dorky but he wouldn’t be Peter if he wasn’t.
x
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#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#peter parker fluff#peter parker fiction#peter parker fan fiction#peter parker fan fic#marvel fic#marvel fan fiction#mcu#marvel fluff#mcu fanfiction#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel#marvel fan fic#marvel fiction
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