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idesofrevolution · 5 months

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Precursor

"Jesus, Danny I don't know what the fuck to do about it, okay? He just fuckin' got me out of no where." Click, clack. Click, clack. The tapping of his fingers on the mouse and keyboard were the only sounds echoing in the dark room aside from his shouts. "Well, I how the fuck should I know? I told you I wasn't good at this game! You're the one who kept begging me to play it, and it's bullshit dude!" For a game that was supposed to be this fun phenomenon, 'Precursor' was proving to be quite a bit lesser than Greg anticipated. Danny had begged him for weeks to join the game and do a couple of rounds with him, if only to get him hooked. For Greg, a video game was like Civilization or Cities Skylines... building something great with strategy and creativity. To him, this was a boring shoot 'em up that had a steep learning curve, and it was grating on his nerves. "Well, dude I told you I didn't know how to play this stupid game but you wouldn't take no for an answer!"

Another red screen and the words 'Exterminated' were sprawled across the screen. Greg slammed his fists down onto the desk, spilling his Red Bull all over his lap. He threw his head back in yet another defeat, his seventh in the span of an hour. Looking down at his phone, the late hour had all but caused him even further grief.

"You know what, dude? This game fucking sucks. I don't know why you wanted me to play with you." Danny, surely kicking ass on the battlefront from somewhere behind his screen in Oklahoma hundreds of miles away, was less than enthused. "Ya know what, fine. I will do the fucking noob lobby, okay? I swear to God, though, if this shit doesn't get fun in ten minutes I'm loggin' off." Greg disconnected from his online pal and reentered back into the main menu. He sighed, how the fuck could anyone without a trigger-happy index finger and a desire to think about their options for more than a split second find this game fun? To him, it was all reflexes and no brain power. Clicking through the main menu, he searched for the "Noob" lobby in the available servers. He scrolled for an agonizing ten seconds of full lobbies before he gave up.

"Man, fuck this." He was a single moment away from clicking that exit button before his elbow slipped on some of the Red Bull that had spilled onto the desktop. His wrist banged onto the keys, leaving a string of gibberish into the searchbar. He grabbed one of his clean socks from the floor and sopped up the syrupy water and tossed it behind him over his shoulder. Whatever. Turning back to his screen, to his utter astonishment, the search for 'pjdkluyoikms' had come up with a single hit: 3/9 players in the lobby. Greg looked down at his phone again, 3:30 in the morning grimaced back at him. He'd have to be up in 4 hours if he'd kept the job he quit a few days prior, but with unemployment looming over his head the hours didn't seem so important to him. The game was known for being a time void, sucking in every available minute it's players had to use.

"Fuck it." He clicked join, and waited as the lobby began to load. For a second, his monitor became severely pixelated, but quickly returned to normal. Before long, he was met with the game mode selection and a couple of voices chatting amongst the static. Bruiser, Scout, Sniper, Runner, Bomber... He didn't know how to use a single one of these characters and in the back of his mind, he wasn't keen on being embarrassed yet again for another hour of failures.

"Who's this?" One of the voices from the ether bellowed out from his headphones, and for whatever reason his skin flushed with goosebumps. "Yo, new guy, did you mean to come here? It's a private server."

"Ahh, shit. I'm sorry, my friend made me buy this game and I don't know what I'm doing. I'll find another, my bad!" Greg scampered to try and just choose a character so he could exit out of the menu, but a second voice gave him immediate pause. It was unlike the other players he'd met so far, in that he wasn't a complete dick right off the bat.

"Nahh, it's cool! We could use a runner this round if you're down? We can take it easy, right boys?" His voice was smooth, chill, if not a bit high pitched in a tenor timbre. The guy could have a career in anime protagonist voice acting if he'd put his mind to it, Greg was quickly put at ease with just a single word.

"You think he can keep up?" the third voice, husky and deep questioned.

"We've played with worse, bro. Remember Clive before Mick got to him? We lost four rounds before Mick got it to stick! He won't fuck up, will ya new guy?" Greg nervously chuckled, knowing full well he'd be terrible in the beginning either way.

"Uhhhh, give me a round or two to get the hang of it... I'm sure I can do it. Nothing better to do anyway."

"That's the spirit! See? He's gonna be great. I'll get him up to snuff." A fall of silence came over the server, Greg shifted in his seat. "Alright, newbie. Just choose runner and I got your back. I used to main runner, so I can show you the ropes." Taking a deep breath, Greg clicked on the avatar for Runner, and hit accept. He entered the lobby, seeing the three players had already chosen their avatars. 1: lostdestiny (scout), 2: EdgeRunner (bruiser), 3: ironclad (bomber), and now 4: Greg (runner).

ironclad: I take it you're Greg, then?

Greg: What gave it away?

The three others chuckled, and the loadbar began to fill. Greg could feel the anxiety and anticipation grow within him. He was about to faceplant AGAIN, and in front of these strangers. At least it wouldn't be long until he'd be kicked anyway.

EdgeRunner: Aight, listen up man. I can't be a babysitter, but I'll be following you. Just do what I tell you to do and you'll be fine. You got this, man. Yeah?

Greg: Uh, yeah man. I'll do my best.

lostdestiny: Don't worry guys, he's gonna do his best.

EdgeRunner: Pipe down, will ya, Des? Fuck. Alright, here we go. Lay low and let them come out on their own.

The four of them were dumped onto the map, this one seemed to be some dirty Cyberpunk city in the rain. Sooner rather than later, it'd be a warzone. Greg sat gobsmacked, frozen in place as the others ran for cover.

ironclad: Yo, get to cover, they'll be here any fuckin' second!

Greg: Whuh.... What do I do, where do I go?

EdgeRunner: Turn to your left, there's a hidden door in the bodega. Hold shift and run. Go!

Greg did as he was told, holding down the shift bar and going toward the store on the corner of the street. He was unprepared for just how quickly he would get there, running straight into the wall to the left of the door. Runner indeed. Rounding the doorway, he snuck down the aisles, and up to the door. He burst in, plowing through stacked boxes and into the racks of the storeroom.

EdgeRunner: Aight, you can let go of the shift, bud.

lostdestiny: Fuck, we're so screwed. We lose out on this one it's on you Edge, and I'm not coughin' up a single coin.

EdgeRunner: Des, hit your fuckin' vape and keep your eyes peeled. I'll worry about the new kid. Greg, hang tight. Wait for me to give you a signal, then you run to the hotel down the street. Got it?

Greg chuckled to himself, he'd stumbled into quite the little gang. These guys were far from noobs, they were good if not professionals. From behind the closed door, he sat idly, waiting with bated breath for Edge to give him the unmentioned word. Over his headphones, he could hear the trio plotting as if they were soldiers planning their attack.

EdgeRunner: Iron, be position. They're gonna come barreling down that alley like a fuckin' stampede, so nuke 'em until I can get there. Des, they in sight yet?

lostdestiny: Just like you said, boss man. Comin' in hot.

EdgeRunner: Perfect. Greg. There's a glowing purple crate in the corner. Open it and pick up whatever is in it, and do it quick.

Greg fumbled over the keys, searching the dark room until he saw the glowing purple box hidden beneath a pile of trash. Clicking on it, the box opened, shucking all the garbage atop it onto the floor. Inside sat a strange green vial.

Greg: Its... It's a glass syringe? Glowing green stuff inside.

EdgeRunner: That's what you're looking for. Bag it and get ready to run.

Greg slipped it into his bag. The syringe showed up as 'upgrade' in the inventory, but no other information was provided. Usually, at least, there was some sort of witty description for the items in-game. Might be modded, he thought to himself, not that he would know anyway. He positioned himself by the door, holding his breath.

ironclad: Fireworks.

EdgeRunner: Now, Greg. Go!

His left pinky firmly planted on the shift key, Greg burst out of the door, through the store and into the street. Outside, a barrage of AI cop grunts were surrounding the building across the way. Pillars of smoke and fire erupted from bombs being dropped from the roof, a massive lug of muscle being the culprit with Ironclad's red tag hovering above him. From within the crowd, an explosion of grunts flew through the air, and dead in the center of the action was EdgeRunner, a maxxed out avatar oozing athleticism and strength with a nearly full level bar floating above him. Fuck, who were these guys?

EdgeRunner: Don't fuckin' freeze on us, Greg. Run!

Taking the hint, Greg bolted down the street, weaving past smoke bombs and gunfire until he made it to the hotel's revolving door, shattering the glass as he crashed through. Inside, three grunts stood behind the front desk, quickly pulling out absurdly massive guns.

Greg: Edge, there's guys in here, they got big ass motherfucking guns too.

EdgeRunner: Fuck, okay. Hold control, shift, and Y. Then run to the elevator. Do it before they peg ya!

Greg: Fuck!

EdgeRunner: Iron, toss a few into the hotel. Help the kid out.

ironclad: On it.

Greg could hear the whistling in the air of the incoming bombs flying toward the lobby. He held down the keys and ran toward the elevators as instructed. Though, as he did, waves of colors surrounded his avatar, deflecting the bullets as they flew before the explosions behind him came bursting in. As the elevator doors closed in front of him, he saw the XP points flowing into his bar from the dead grunts. The elevator began to climb.

EdgeRunner: Woooooooooo baby! That's what I call a bait n switch! Kid, you're a natural.

lostdestiny: Beginner's luck.

EdgeRunner: It's gonna be a second before that elevator gets to the top level. Regroup at the hotel, they'll be swarming him. Des, you're on the 99th floor, right?

lostdestiny: Best view in the city.

EdgeRunner: Keep watch, we'll be there in a second. New guy will be on your floor in a couple of minutes. Greg, let's do a one-on-one, yeah?

On the screen, a side window popped up in the bottom corner. Incoming call: EdgeRunner 1 on 1. Fuck, was this guy trying to video chat?

Greg: Uhhhh, I didn't know you could cam...

EdgeRunner: What, you ain't jackin' off are ya? C'mon lemme see.

Greg waited for a moment, nervous beyond words. Watch it be some 60 year old gaming in his mom's basement, was this really the kind of guy he'd want to game with anyway? The curiosity had only crept up since he stumbled into the server, it's not as if they were meeting in real life or anything. It's a screen. He nodded to himself, as if to give himself permission, and clicked on the accept button. In the corner box, EdgeRunner himself popped into focus.

Not what he expected whatsoever. He wasn't much older than Greg, maybe late twenties, early thirties. That was a relief. His room was shrouded in a blue hue, pairing nicely with his ID tag color in game. He was covered in ink from the forehead down, with white hair and a nice pair of pecs cropped just out of view. Again, far from what he expected to see.

"What's up, Greggo?" He smirked, as if studying Greg from behind his lens.

"Yeah... In an elevator. On my computer." Edge laughed, taking his eye contact away to refocus on his game.

"Playin' pretty fuckin' well so far. You sure you never played before now?" Greg found himself blushing a tad bit at this hunk of a man, alarmingly similar to the stud avatar he portrayed online. "Might have to keep you around if you keep up at this rate." The ping of the elevator reaching the 99th floor brought him right back into the world, as the doors opened to a tall, lanky guy with his back to him.

"Des, I presume?"

lostdestiny: Who the fuck else would it be? Mommie? Get to the loot at the end of the hall, fifth door on the right.

"Des isn't the sweetest fruit in the basket. Don't mind him. But get to the room as quick as you can, bud." Holding down the shift key yet again, though now as if it were second nature to him, he bolted down the hall, dodging the mines which littered the floor. "Yeah, don't be up in your feelings about it, but the upgrade is for you, kid. If I were you, I'd take it now while you can. Get you on our level quicker, if ya catch my drift." Greg didn't think twice. He opened the inventory, clicked on the vial, and hit use. His avatar quickly pulled out the syringe from off screen, jamming it into his wrist. The liquid quickly flowed into his avatar, but changes were slow. He arrived at the door, opening them to a boardroom overlooking the whole city, bathed in a purple hue.

Greg: What am I looking for exactly?

ironclad: You'll know it when you see it. Find it quick, they're coming up.

As Greg began to search through the shelves and drawers lining the walls, he was too preoccupied to notice the veins of black starting to flow from his fingertips up his limber arms. While he may have been too focused to see, Edge was watching eagerly in the bottom corner with a giant grin forming on his face. His little window closed, leaving Greg in his search.

lostdestiny: Incoming. Edge, would be a really fuckin' great time for you to pull some fuckshit about now!

Explosions rung out in the hallway, and an eruption of bullets soon followed. Greg felt the pressure bearing down on him, he felt heavier, as if the weight of the situation were sitting atop him like boulders. But hidden in the darkness of his room, the black veins crawled higher and higher, across his shoulders and back, creeping up the back of his neck, until he felt a pinch right at the base of his skull. Instant headrush.

The world got blurry in a mere second, his ears started to ring and his muscles began to pulse. Though, in that moment, he felt something else swelling within him: confidence. Control, Shift, C. The boardroom went blue, a glowing yellow aura radiated from behind one of the walls. Greg smiled, bolting to the wall. Alt, D, F7. The shelves shuddered, then slowly retracted into a dark void. The payload sat at the end of a long, dark hallway on a spotlit pedestal. Some crazy mechanical contraption, it seemed. Though he didn't know what it was, he knew inherently that this is what he was looking for. Just as Iron said.

Greg: Bingo.

EdgeRunner: Careful, newbie. Watch the walls.

A single step forward, and red lasers began to shoot left and right. An hour earlier, he'd be pissing himself on an 'exterminated' screen, raging to no one but himself. Though now, as he felt the energy coursing through his body, the corner of his lip shifted upward, his brows furrowed, and he leaned forward. Showtime.

Alt, Shift, F2, Q, L... the keys flew by beneath his fingers as he dodged, rolled, and lept past every sensor. The keyboard could barely keep up as his hands danced across it. It was an invigoration he'd never experienced before, an expertise he'd never felt, a self he'd never known. Every new trap before him was a piece of cake, avoiding them before they'd even triggered. In the span of fifteen seconds, he'd arrived at the pedestal. The Carpe Diem. A major upgrade, far above his current standing, but it would fetch a pretty price for the right punk. The massive implant somehow fit in his inventory, he was thankful he wasn't on a real job, lugging this around would have been a task in and of itself.

Greg: Payload in hand. Ready to get the fuck out of here.

EdgeRunner: Gonna be a messy exit, kid. You up for it?

Greg: Don't have to flirt that nasty with me, Edge. Treat me tender.

He spun around, leaping down the entire hallway in one go. Thank you Shift, T, S. The crew stood at the door to the boardroom, perhaps a hundred grunts firing everything they had not far behind. Greg looked at every corner, and realized quickly what Edge meant. He turned around, looking at the massive glass wall overlooking Sunset City. His massive feet tapped against the wooden floor beneath his desk, itching for the run he was about to embark upon, his body begging for the rush... his muscles aching for the wind on his skin. He smirked. No second thoughts, he burst through the window.

ironclad: Fuck kid! That's one way out I guess!

EdgeRunner: Bail, boys! Let's fly.

Freefalling, Greg felt the cool breeze of his plummet on the lids of his closed eyes. Soon, but not yet. He had a job to finish. Control, Shift, C. His fall became a sprint, every footfall landing softly on the glass below, looking 99 floors straight down to the pavement.

GreWind: WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!

Exhiliration. Excitement. Freedom. He was free. Coasting on the diagonal glass, he surfed down the building until he came painlessly onto the sidewalk below, followed not too far behind by Des landing in a bush, Iron on his face, and Edge on his own two feet. The quartet sped toward the four bikes parked along the street, making their swift getaway. As Wind wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning back in his chair, letting the ripe waft of pits beam from his arms. Incoming 1 on 1 from EdgeRunner. He of course had to reem in the accolades, smiling as he hit accept. Edge popped up in the corner of the screen, beaming from ear to ear.

"Now that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about! That upgrade did ya good, new kid." Wind smirked, puckering his lips and blowing a kiss to his studly boss man.

"You can show me your appreciation later, babe. Worked up a storm for ya." Wind flexed his arms, licking the sweat from his bicep and running his hand through his bright green hair.

"Heh, yeah, you're gonna fit in just fine. This'll fetch a nice penny from the middleman. Now, whaddya say, Greg? Ready for the real work?" Edge winked and his window closed.

EdgeRunner: Rendezvous at Checkpoint's. Your cuts will be waiting for you.

Stormwind: Aye, aye Captain.

lostdestiny: Shit, you two get a room already.

EdgeRunner: Nah, you're gonna sit and watch me fuck him raw and nasty, Des.

Stormwind: Won't be the last if you're nice, Des.

ironclad: I swear, if newbie is gonna be cumdump, I'm gonna be on whatever job he's on.

Stormwind: Plenty to go around, boys. Better be ready to clean this dick and worship these feet. They run real fast for y'all and they could use a tongue bath, won't even need any poppers. Freebase, baby.

EdgeRunner: See you at Checkpoint's, Wind. Welcome to the team.

#male transformation #body transformation #original #transformation #gay transformation #gamer transformation #punk transformation #punkification #criminal tf #male tf #gay tf #virtual transformation #cyber tf #badass transformation #musk

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fatecantstopme · 1 year

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Undercover

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Summary: You've gotta go undercover for a case...with the last person on earth you'd ever wanna go with.

Warnings: Angst. Cursing. Use of pet names. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, praise kink, sir kink, light choking kink. Mentions of murder. Little bit of fluffy fluff at the end.

A/N: Haley doesn't exist in this story, just FYI.

"So we need two people to go undercover," Rossi said.

"Count me out," Emily said, throwing her hands in the air. "This unsub creeps me out too much. I have no interest in playing his game."

Rossi looked at you and you groaned. "Oh come on."

"You're the only other option, (Y/N)," he insisted.

You looked over at JJ and she shrugged uncomfortably. "Don't look at me, I'm just the media liaison."

"Fine, I'll do it, but only if I can take Morgan with me."

Morgan grinned. "Hell, yeah. I'm in."

Garcia cut in, "Sorry, hot stuff--as much as I'd love to see you go undercover in a tux, you don't exactly fit the required profile."

You looked at Spence hopefully, but he shook his head. "Sorry, (Y/N/N), I'm too young for this one."

You groaned. "Well what's wrong with Morgan?"

"The group the unsub belongs to is very exclusive--if you're not white, you're not getting in," Hotch answered.

You bristled slightly at your boss's interjection. He wasn't wrong and you knew it, but every time he spoke you couldn't help but feel annoyed.

"Fine," you conceded. "Looks like I'm taking Rossi."

Rossi laughed. "Come on, (Y/N). You know I'm too old for this one."

The room fell silent as the realization dawned on every single person in the room, yourself included. Shit, shit, shit.

"It has to be Hotch," Rossi stated.

Even Hotch looked slightly surprised. "I haven't gone undercover in quite a while."

"Better figure it out because you're the only option," you grumbled.

Hotch sent you a glare, but didn't bother to reply to your statement. "When's this party happening?"

"Saturday night," Garcia answered.

"That's two days to prepare," Emily stated. "Should be plenty."

You sighed loudly, but nodded your agreement.

"Good. Let's get started," Hotch said.

The room immediately began to clear out, the rest of the team going back to their desks to work. You stayed behind, which didn't go unnoticed by Rossi.

"I know it's not ideal, but it's the best way to draw out the unsub," Rossi said gently as he sat down beside you.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. "He hates me, Rossi, and to be honest, I'm not his biggest fan either. But you want us to pretend to love each other in front of a bunch of strangers? For hours on end?"

Rossi patted your arm. "I know, kiddo, but he's not that bad. It'll be okay."

You stared at him in silence for a moment. "The man never looks at me unless it's a glare. He looks annoyed every time I dare to speak in his presence, especially if it's directed at him. There's no way we're going to be able to pretend to even like each other, Rossi."

"I'll talk to him, okay? But you both need to be the professionals I know you are. It's not about either of you...it's about all the girls this man has murdered."

You sighed lightly. "You're right, you're right--as always. I'll behave, I promise."

Rossi smiled. "That'a girl. I'll talk to Hotch."

You nodded. "Be mean if you have to."

"(Y/N)," Rossi warned with a chuckle as he left the conference room.

It's not that you hated Hotch or anything like that. Hell, you actually found him incredibly attractive--it was his attitude you couldn't stand. He wasn't always rude to you, he was almost friendly when you'd joined the team a couple years prior. A couple months in and he started to act differently. You had no idea what you'd done to him to make him hate you, but it pissed you off to no end.

Hotch wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy with anyone, but he was downright hostile with you. He went out of his way to avoid you when he could, and acted like a sullen child when he couldn't. He always paired you up with someone else on cases, to the point where you'd actually never worked with him alone one-on-one.

You grabbed your notebook and headed back to your desk.

"Hey, you okay?" Emily asked you softly when you sat down in front of her.

"Yeah, it's fine. Just gotta figure out how to make sure we don't kill each other in public."

She chuckled. "You're not going to kill each other."

You raised your eyebrow. "Sure--it'll be great."

"You'll be fine," she insisted. "So you wanna go shopping later?"

You nodded. "I've gotta find something to wear to this damn thing. Invite JJ and Garcia too. I need opinions. If I've gotta dress up, I wanna at least look hot."

Emily laughed. "Girl please--you always look hot."

"Thank you, thank you," you said with a mock bow.

"(Y/L/N)," Hotch yelled from his office. "My office. Now."

You closed your eyes and sighed before getting up and heading to the office. You made eye contact with Rossi as he walked back to his own office. He gave you a soft smile and a subtle thumbs up...but you couldn't help but feel nervous as hell.

"Sir?" you asked as you entered his office.

"Close the door," he said without looking at you.

You closed the door and waited silently for him to speak.

"Are you going to sit or just stand there awkwardly?"

"Standing closer to the door gives me a better escape route," you said stubbornly.

Hotch huffed in annoyance. "You're being childish. Sit down."

"Is that an order, sir?"

His body tensed and he clenched his jaw as he gestured to the seat in front of him.

You sat down and crossed your arms, silence stretching out between you.

After an entire minute of silence, you couldn't take it anymore. "I'm assuming you called me in here for a reason?"

"I did." Hotch's gaze finally landed on you. "We need to discuss this op."

"What about it?"

Hotch raised his eyebrows. "How about your reaction when Rossi said we'd be going undercover together?"

"Can you blame me, Hotch? We have to pretend to be romantically involved--but we can barely be in each other's presence without animosity."

"We're professionals, (Y/L/N)."

"May I speak freely, sir?"

"As if you don't already."

"I'm going to take that as a yes," you began. "You don't act like a professional, Hotch. You act like I'm an actual burden to you--like you despise me so much that merely being in my presence makes you angry. You can't even look at me without glaring and you almost never speak to me unless you have to. Can you see why I wouldn't exactly be thrilled about going undercover with you?"

To your surprise, Hotch looked almost hurt by your words. But that quickly turned back to annoyance--maybe even anger. "Can you really blame me? You're not exactly pleasant to be around," he said harshly.

It was your turn to be hurt--and unlike him, you couldn't hide it. You stood up and walked to the door.

"I didn't dismiss you."

You didn't even bother to look back at him. "This conversation is definitely over." You walked out the office door and straight out to the bank of elevators in the hall. You ignored the voices of your teammates calling your name. You just needed to get out of there--you needed air.

Instead of going down, you went up, making your way out to the roof. It was your go-to place to think, and lord knew you needed to think in peace.

You were angry and you needed a moment away from everyone else to calm down--otherwise, you might say something you'll regret. This was one of those moments where you questioned your life choices...and how much you really wanted to keep working at the BAU.

It was your dream job and you loved your team more than anything, but working with Hotch was slowly killing you. You hated the way he made you feel, but more importantly you hated the side of you he brought out. You just didn't like yourself when you were around him.

It hadn't always been that way. When you'd first started, Hotch had actually been nice to you--you might even say he was sweet. You felt accepted by the entire team, your boss included. You just didn't know what had changed. Somehow he was getting even worse and that attitude was pushing you to your limits.

You knew you had to get through this case and deal with the undercover part--the lives of an untold number of girls relied on it. But after that, you really needed to think about what your future was going to look like.

**********

Somehow, you made it through the rest of the day without losing your mind. You and the girls were now out shopping for the perfect dress for this op.

"Okay so I grabbed 15 different dresses in your size," Garcia said with a massive grin when you, Emily, and JJ walked into the store.

"You only got here 10 minutes before us!" you exclaimed.

Garcia just kept smiling. "I excel at speed shopping."

You laughed as she dragged you to the back of the store, the other two following behind you. You went into the dressing room to try on the dresses. Garcia had pulled various styles and colors, some of which were absolutely not your style at all, so you avoided trying those on.

The first dress you put on was just a basic little black dress. You stepped out of the dressing room to let the girls see it.

"Ohh an LBD. Okay," Emily said. "Spin please."

You spun with a chuckle. "What do we think?"

"Hmm. We can do better," Garcia said. "Next!"

You switched into a different black dress, longer this time, but perhaps a little more revealing in the bodice than you'd prefer.

"Ow-ow!" JJ cat called you as you stepped out.

Emily clapped and Garcia let out a little gasp.

"I think it might be a little...much," you said lightly.

Emily laughed. "The girls are coming out to say hi."

"Yeah, I'm gonna try another one."

The next couple dresses you tried on just didn't really speak to you, despite the reactions of your friends. You finally reached a dress that you thought looked nice on the hanger, but you weren't quite sure how it would look on you.

It was a deep emerald green dress in a silky fabric. It was very simply designed, v-necked with thin straps, floor length, with a thigh-high split up one side.

When you put it on, you let out a little gasp as you looked in the mirror. Even with minimal makeup, messy hair, and no shoes, you thought you looked incredible.

"Was that a gasp I just heard?" Garcia asked.

"Maybe," you said with a chuckle as you stepped out of the dressing room.

"Holy shit," Emily mumbled.

"That's the one," JJ said, eyes wide.

"I second that," Garcia agreed.

"You think so?" you asked, timidly.

"Girl, please. You look hot as hell," Emily insisted. "Hotch is probably going to pass out when he sees you."

You laughed. "He won't even notice, Em. You know he doesn't look at me."

"He's a man, (Y/N). He'd have to be blind not to."

"She's right, ya know," JJ said.

"Well I can't say that I wouldn't love to see Hotch fall flat on his face," you said lightly.

"I don't know why you're always so mean to each other," Garcia said with a frown.

"Oh please--he started it," you insisted.

"Hmm," she hummed. "I suppose."

"Enough talk about Hotch. Go change so we can buy that sexy dress and get dinner," Emily cut in.

"Tacos?" you asked.

"Obviously," she agreed.

**********

The next day was spent in the office, preparing for the op the next night. As always, Hotch was moody and distant, but he did try not to snap at you very much.

He wouldn't admit it, but Rossi's words from the day before, as well as your rightful anger, had been weighing on him all night. He didn't mean to be an asshole--well, yes he did. But he didn't want to be. It was self-preservation. He knew what would happen if he was nice to you...the first few weeks of your time in the BAU had given insight into that.

"Hotch," your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked.

You sighed. "You weren't listening, were you?"

He winced. "Sorry."

A look of surprise ghosted across your face. You were certain that was the first and only time he'd ever apologized to you. You shook your head to clear it and repeated your earlier statement. "Somehow these guys are rich enough to actually rent out an entire hotel for a weekend. The event itself is in the hotel ballroom and each of the 'couples' in attendance will have their own rooms, us included. Garcia managed to secure us a room."

"What do we need a hotel room for?" Hotch asked.

You sighed. "I'm not going to explain that one, Hotchner."

Before Hotch could snap at you, Rossi cut in. "The hotel rooms are used for the various interactions between the couples. Each couple is required to have a room in order to participate in the event."

"Besides," Reid continued, "we need the two of you to convince the unsub to come up to your room for (Y/N)."

You winced, a look of disgust covering your face.

"Sorry, (Y/N/N)," Reid said sheepishly.

"It's not your fault the unsub is so sick," you reassured him.

This particular unsub was part of an exclusive group of people who 'traded' women amongst each other for various fees dependent upon what the purchaser wanted the woman for. The unsub would purchase a girl to keep, and eventually murder in a horrifically sadistic and brutal manner.

Essentially, Hotch would be operating as your current 'owner', but once you'd identified the unsub, he'd offer you to him for a sordid fee. You didn't like the concept of any of this, but you wanted to catch this guy so badly.

After a few more hours of planning, it was time to wrap things up and get ready for tomorrow. You were meeting the team at a nearby hotel to get ready and it's where they would be setting up. You and Hotch would depart from there and go directly to the hotel with the event.

**********

At 4:30 the next day, you arrived at the hotel the team was setting up at. Most of the team was already there, the only one missing was Hotch.

"How you feeling, (Y/N)?" Emily asked softly. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be, Em."

"Thanks for showing up," Morgan teased as Hotch walked into the hotel room.

"Shut it, Morgan. I couldn't find my tux."

'Tux?' you mouthed at Emily.

She shrugged. "Guess he wanted to match your level of class," she whispered.

"Actually, tuxes are required," Reid interjected.

"Ahh," you said with a nod.

Emily chuckled lightly and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the bathroom. She gestured to JJ and Garcia to come along. She shut the door behind you all and you jumped up on the bathroom counter.

"Make me pretty," you joked.

"Girl please. You're already gorgeous. We're just accentuating it," Garcia stated with a smile.

"I love you," you said warmly as you pulled her into a hug. "But seriously, who's gonna fix my hair? I look crazy."

JJ laughed. "I'll take the hair. Garcia's gonna handle your makeup and Emily is here for comic relief/emotional support."

The girls got to work on styling your hair and doing your makeup, chatting and laughing together as if you weren't about to go undercover in a freaking lion's den.

While you and the girls were getting ready in the bathroom, the guys were talking over things in the bedroom.

Hotch needed maybe 10 minutes to get changed, so he had some time to kill before he needed to get ready. That time wasn't really a beneficial thing. It allowed him time to think about all kinds of things he really shouldn't be thinking about.

The event was starting at 7, so you needed to be at the other hotel by 6:30 to check into your room. At 6, the girls popped out of the bathroom, leaving you on the other side of the door.

Garcia cleared her throat to get the rest of the team's attention. Everyone turned to face her and she dramatically gestured to the bathroom door. "Presenting the beautiful, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

Emily swung the door open and you stepped out into the main room. Everyone was silent as they took in your look. You felt slightly uncomfortable under their gazes, despite being a very confident woman.

"Damn, girl," Morgan breathed out, the first one to recover.

"She looks great, doesn't she?" Garcia said excitedly.

"She really does," Hotch said softly without realizing it.

Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, but none were as surprised as you. Your eyes met his and you inhaled sharply, breath catching in your chest.

Hotch realized he'd spoken out loud, only because of the look on your face. A dark blush crept into his cheeks and he averted his gaze.

"Thanks, guys," you said softly, taking the attention away from Hotch.

He lifted his gaze back up to you, completely unable to keep his eyes off of you. You looked even more beautiful than usual and you absolutely took his breath away.

You looked back over at Hotch while ignoring the chatter of the rest of the team as they gushed over your look. Your heart was racing so quickly, you were slightly worried someone would be able to hear the pounding.

You'd never seen Hotch look at you the way he was looking at you in this moment. You felt almost small under his gaze and if you didn't think it sounded insane, you would say he almost looked hungry as he gazed at you.

"I guess I should change too," Hotch said lightly, eyes not quite meeting yours.

"Oh, right." You stepped out of the way so he could go into the bathroom to change into his tux. You walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, suddenly feeling a bit faint.

JJ noticed immediately and came over to sit beside you. "You okay?" she murmured.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just a little nervous," you lied smoothly.

It was obvious she didn't believe you, but she didn't say anything. She simply wrapped her arm around you and pulled you into a side hug. It was just what you needed to feel grounded.

After several minutes, Hotch came out of the bathroom wearing a very well-fitted black tux. Much in the same way he looked at you in shock when you came out, your eyes widened as you took him in.

"You clean up nice," Rossi teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Hotch muttered. He looked up at you, eyes not quite meeting yours. "Should we head out?"

You nodded and stood up, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the night ahead.

"We'll be close by if you need us," Rossi assured you both as you started out the door. "Garcia will be monitoring the cameras in the ballroom."

You nodded again as Hotch opened the door and gestured for you to go first. "We've got this," he said firmly.

The ride to the other hotel was silent...and not the comfortable kind. You hated it, but you couldn't think of a single thing to say, and apparently neither could he.

When you arrived at the hotel, Hotch handed the keys to the valet, took your arm as you got out of the car, and guided you into the hotel lobby.

"Good evening, sir," the front desk lady said. "May I have your last name please?"

"Carter," Hotch said smoothly.

The woman checked the computer and offered the two of you a smile. "Your room is on the 7th floor," she handed Hotch the room keys before continuing, "elevators are to your left. Please let us know if there's anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant."

"Thank you very much," Hotch responded.

Once the two of you made it to the room, you separated from each other as if your skin burned. You made quick work of searching the room for cameras and/or listening devices. Finding none, you finally relaxed a little and spoke to each other.

"Call Rossi," you said. "We're a go."

Hotch glared at you, clearly annoyed at your commands, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he simply called Rossi, told him the room number, and said he'd be in touch.

"We have 20 minutes until we need to be downstairs for the party," he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

You sat down in an arm chair on the opposite side of the room. "Shall we sit in silence until then?"

Hotch shot you another glare. "Perhaps we should discuss our plan?"

"What's to discuss? You know the plan as well as I do. Just pretend to actually like each other for long enough to find the unsub. Sound manageable?"

He winced as if you'd hit him, but quickly recovered. It did not, however, go unnoticed by you. "If you're silent, I think I can handle it," he snapped back.

You narrowed your eyes. "Don't worry, I'm excellent at faking sweetness."

10 minutes passed in complete silence. You felt bad for being so nasty to him, but it was all you ever did. You didn't banter...you fought, and neither of you knew how to pull a punch.

Much to your surprise, Hotch broke the silence first. "Have you always hated me so much?"

You turned to look at him. He actually looked wounded and it made your expression soften. "I don't hate you, Hotch."

"Coulda fooled me."

"Do you hate me?" you asked softly.

He looked surprised. "Of course not."

"Coulda fooled me," you said, echoing his response.

He looked down at the floor. "I know I'm an asshole, (Y/N), but I don't hate you."

You were silent for a moment. "That's the first time you've called me by my first name since I first joined the BAU."

His gaze met yours. "It is?"

You simply nodded.

He returned the nod thoughtfully. "I don't mean to be like this, you know."

"Well you're not like this with anyone else on the team, so I can only assume you have something against me specifically."

He shook his head. "I don't, but it's just--it's hard to explain." He fell silent, refusing to allow himself to elaborate further.

You sighed and stood up. "Come on. We might as well head downstairs."

He nodded again and joined you at the door.

"Remember," you said softly. "Pretend to like each other."

You opened the door and the op began.

**********

Hotch's hand rested firmly on your lower back as you walked into the hotel ballroom. You closed your eyes briefly, silently willing your body to not react to the feeling of his hand on you or the proximity of his body to yours.

Unfortunately, he felt the tension in your back against his palm. "Relax," he murmured in your ear, causing you to shiver.

You hated your body for reacting so intensely to him, and you cursed quietly under your breath, earning a deep chuckle from Hotch.

You wanted to glare at him for laughing at you, but you knew there were eyes on you both. You decided to lean into the role you were supposed to be playing, while also getting back at him.

You placed your hand on his chest and leaned your body into him, giving him a whiff of your perfume. You felt him tense against you and you grinned. "You okay there, handsome?" you teased.

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, but you noticed the slight flush in his cheeks. He knew what you were doing, but he was quite sure you weren't aware of what you were really doing to him.

He guided you farther into the large ballroom, eyes scanning the room for men that fit the profile. Unfortunately, almost every man in the room fit the profile almost perfectly.

"Are you paying attention?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Sir," you hissed in annoyance.

He bit back a groan, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Don't," he mumbled.

"Don't what?" you asked teasingly, knowing exactly what got to him.

He shot you a look that sent a wave of heat straight to your core. Your eyes must have betrayed you, because his expression changed to an almost wolfish look that had your pulse racing.

"Behave," he snapped. The harshness in his voice surprised you, until you saw the couple watching you from the corner of your eye. Hotch had slid seamlessly into his role, so you slipped back into yours.

Your eyes looked down and your body language screamed 'submissive', which was what you knew the unsub would want to see. The man nodded at Hotch, clearly appreciating his dominant control over you. Hotch inclined his head at the man, signaling his respect.

Once the couple was out of earshot, you whispered, "One down."

Hotch nodded. "500 to go." It was an exaggeration, but it felt like he was right.

For the next hour, the two of you made it through the room several times, eliminating almost every man there. You were starting to lose hope that you were going to find the unsub, but Hotch was refusing to give up.

Your eyes were dancing around the room when they landed on a man several feet away from you. You hadn't noticed him before, but he was watching you, eyes taking in your appearance with a dangerous hunger.

You turned your head into Hotch's shoulder, so the man could no longer see your face. "Your 2 o'clock," you whispered.

Hotch glanced in that direction and his grip on your waist tightened almost possessively. You instantly knew he agreed with your instincts and his protective nature kicked into high gear.

You felt Hotch move his head, gesturing for the man to come over to you. He leaned down to murmur against your hair, "He's coming this way."

"Hello there," the man said as he reached you. "Who do we have here?"

He was clearly talking about you, so Hotch turned your body towards him, allowing the man to have a clearer view of you. "This is Anna," he lied smoothly. "My favorite girl."

You kept your head inclined to express a very submissive nature, but you allowed yourself to gaze up at the man through your lashes. He was looking at you with an intensity that made your skin crawl, but you didn't show it.

"Anna," he said softly. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Thank you, sir," you murmured.

"And so well-behaved." The man looked up at Hotch. "You've trained her well."

Hotch smiled. "She's a very quick learner." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "A little violence goes a long way with this one."

The man hummed lightly, clearly pleased with that information. "Is she available?"

"What did you have in mind?" Hotch asked.

"I was thinking something permanent."

Hotch pretended to think about it, looking slightly disinterested.

"I can pay very well," the man insisted. "I pay extra for complete discretion."

"Discretion is obviously included," Hotch said simply.

The man shook his head slightly. "Complete discretion. After I make the purchase, I expect utter silence on your part, regardless of what may happen."

"Should I be concerned about 'what may happen'?" he asked lightly.

"I'll make it worth your while to not be concerned."

Hotch looked down at you. "How much?"

"$500,000."

Hotch laughed. "She's worth more than that."

"My apologies. I'll give you the 500,000 for discretion and 1 million for the girl."

Every single fiber of your being was telling you this man was the unsub you were looking for and you had a feeling Hotch felt the same way.

Hotch nodded. "You've got yourself a deal."

The man smiled. "I'll transfer the money to whatever account you wish."

Hotch gave him a government-controlled bank account to wire the money to.

Back at the other hotel, Garcia received a notification that the account had received 1.5 million dollars. "Alright, guys. It's go-time. I just got 1.5 million dollars for something...I'm assuming it's for (Y/N). Hotch is talking with a man now."

Rossi and Morgan leaned over her shoulder to look at the camera feed. "Let's roll," Morgan said.

Morgan, Rossi, Reid, and Emily headed out to the other hotel. The plan was to pick up the unsub once you were transferred to his possession.

Hotch's phone dinged with a notification from Garcia informing him the money had been transferred. He looked up at the other man with a smile. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you. She's all yours."

"Excellent. Come along, Anna. We have much to do," the man said firmly as he grabbed your arm to guide you away from Hotch.

You felt Hotch's tension as you were pulled away from him, but you didn't look back. You knew if you did, it would give you away.

The moment the man was out of earshot, Hotch called Garcia. "Don't lose her," he said firmly.

"On it, sir."

Garcia watched the man guide you through the ballroom towards the bank of elevators. The cameras in the elevator showed how clearly uncomfortable you were and it made Garcia upset to watch. The unsub's hands were all over you, but you didn't pull away--you couldn't.

The elevator doors opened and the cameras in the hallway showed the unsub leading you into room 456.

"They're in room 456," Garcia said over the phone.

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Hotch was running across the ballroom towards the elevators. As he waited for the elevator, the rest of the team came into the building.

Hotch held the elevator doors opened and the other four jumped inside and headed up to the 4th floor. When they reached room 456, Emily knocked on the door. "Housekeeping," she called.

A few moments later, the unsub opened the door, looking annoyed. His expression quickly turned to surprise as 5 FBI agents busted into his room.

Hotch looked around the room for you, ignoring what was happening with the unsub behind him. His gaze landed on you and he relaxed immediately. You shot him a small smile and waved your fingers at him from the bed.

He rushed over to you. "Are you okay?" he asked gently as he pulled out a knife and quickly cut the rope that bound your arms to the headboard.

"I am now," you said softly, rubbing your wrists slightly.

"You did good," he commented.

"So did you."

He helped you off the bed and you straightened your dress before making your way over to the unsub. "Gotcha," you said with a smile as you patted his cheek.

Hotch nodded to Rossi and Morgan and they escorted him out of the room. Emily and Reid followed, but Hotch grabbed your arm to keep you from following them. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly.

You smiled. "He didn't do anything other than tie me to the bed and awkwardly fondle me, Hotch. I promise I'm okay."

He looked angry for a moment. "I hate that he touched you."

You shrugged. "It wasn't great, but I'll live." You grabbed his arm. "Come on, let's go."

He followed you out of the room and downstairs. The team loaded up in their vehicles and headed back to the other hotel for Garcia and JJ, while Rossi and Morgan took the unsub back to the BAU for questioning.

Garcia and JJ were packing everything up when you walked into the room.

"You're okay!" Garcia squealed as she ran across the room to hug you.

You laughed. "I'm perfectly fine, Pen. I promise."

JJ gave you a hug too before helping Garcia carry stuff out to the car. Everyone else cleared out, but you and Hotch stayed behind to change.

"We'll meet you guys back at the office. Tell Rossi to get started without us," Hotch said firmly as he ushered Emily and Reid out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

"I was kind of looking forward to interrogating him," you complained.

"I'm not letting him anywhere near you again," Hotch growled.

"Little possessive aren't we?"

His eyes met yours and your breath caught in your chest. His pupils were blown wide and his gaze was incredibly intense. Your heart began to beat rapidly and your breathing became more shallow.

You'd never wanted him more badly than you wanted him in this moment, but you found you couldn't move. It was as if your feet had grown roots.

Hotch, on the other hand, began to slowly walk towards you, like a predator hunting his prey. He stopped mere inches from you, so close you could feel his breath against your lips.

He leaned forward, pinning you against the wall, his arms caging you in. "Tell me to stop," he whispered.

"No," you breathed out.

He groaned softly and you watched as the last remnants of his self-control faded away. Without warning, he slammed his lips against yours, taking your breath away.

You kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. His body collapsed against yours, pressing into you deliciously.

His lips began to move to your jaw and down to your neck, sucking your skin and leaving little bite marks as he went.

"Aaron," you whimpered softly.

He moaned against your skin, nipping at your pulse point. "Say my name again."

You gave the hair at the nape of his neck a tug and whispered his name again.

He looked up at you, eyes black with lust. "I wanna take my time with you," he murmured.

"We don't have time," you said softly. "The team's gonna wonder what's taking so long."

"I don't care," he growled. "I've been wanting to do this for years."

You groaned, the mere idea that he'd wanted you for so long was a massive turn on. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots gently. "Then you can wait a little longer, baby."

"Fuck," he mumbled, hands tightening on your hips. "I'll take my time with you later. Lift that dress up, baby. Wanna touch you."

You didn't need to be told twice. You lifted up the skirt of the dress so it was around your waist, revealing your black lace thong.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw your underwear and you grinned. "Didn't want panty lines."

He grabbed the edge of the lace and ripped it with ease.

"Aaron!"

"What? You won't need them." He slipped a finger between your folds, effectively silencing your response. "So wet for me," he groaned.

Your head leaned back against the wall and you let out a soft moan. Your fingers reached for his belt, quickly removing it before fiddling with the button and zipper on his pants.

He grabbed your hand and pushed it away. You were about to protest, but he made much faster work of removing his pants than you would have. He pulled his boxers down just enough to release his hard cock, stroking it as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Fuck me, please," you begged.

"I can't say no when you beg so sweetly," he said softly.

You clutched at his shoulders and lifted your hips up to meet his hands. He chuckled lightly at your neediness, but he couldn't deny his own need any longer. In one swift movement, he sheathed himself inside of you completely.

You gasped as you dug your nails into him, trying to adjust to his size. His length and girth stretched you out almost painfully. You wrapped your right leg around his waist and begged him to move.

He started to thrust up into you, your moans mixing with the salacious sounds of your bodies meeting.

"You feel so good, (Y/N)," he moaned into your ear. "Could stay between these pretty legs forever."

"Faster," you begged.

He chuckled darkly and sped up his thrusts. You gasped loudly, pleasure overwhelming you.

"Squeezing me so tight, baby."

"So close," you gasped.

"Yeah? You wanna cum, pretty girl?"

"Please," you whimpered.

"Not yet," he growled.

You let out a soft whimper as he continued to thrust into you. He was struggling to keep his own orgasm at bay, but he wanted to make sure yours was as intense as he could make it before he came.

"Fuck, baby, you're so beautiful."

"Wanna cum," you cried softly.

He thrust into you as hard and fast as he could. "Cum for me, baby."

You cried out as your release hit you with overwhelming force. You clenched tightly around him as you came, drawing deep moans from his chest.

"Squeezing me so good...gonna cum, baby," he groaned out.

You felt him slow slightly and you worried he was going to pull out. "Inside me, please--Aaron, wanna feel you fill me up," you begged quickly.

"Baby, you sure?"

You nodded rapidly. "Please--need it."

He leaned into you, lips against your throat as he thrust into you a couple more times before he came inside of you, filling you with his seed. He groaned your name against your skin as he came down from his high.

You were both breathless as he slowly slid out of you. His hands didn't leave your hips, which you were thankful for. You were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to stand up without his support.

"You alright, (Y/N)?" he asked softly as he kissed your temple.

"More than alright."

He smiled. "Me too."

You chuckled as you looked up at him. "We--uh...we should probably clean up and get back to the office."

He nodded and pulled away from you a little. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry--"

"Nothing to be sorry for, Aaron. I wanted that as badly as you did."

He looked back up at you, eyes scanning your face for any hint of deception. The fact that you'd used his first name and the look of affection on your face solidified his belief that you were serious.

"For the record, I'd like to do this again later," you said softly as you took in his gentle expression.

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

You bit your lip and nodded.

He groaned softly. "Don't play coy now, (Y/N)."

You grinned and pulled him in for a deep kiss, one he returned happily. When you separated, you pulled yourself off the wall and went to adjust your dress. As soon as you stood up straight, his cum began to seep out onto your thighs.

"Shit," you mumbled.

"What?"

"Well, you ruined my underwear and now I'm going to get cum all over my dress."

He grinned. "Good thing you brought clothes to change into."

"I didn't bring another pair of underwear!"

"Sorry, gorgeous. Guess you'll have to just sit with your thighs clenched together."

You smacked him affectionately as he started to take off the rest of his tux so he could change.

"You're terrible," you grumbled lightly. You grabbed your clothes and went into the bathroom to change. When you came back out, he was dressed and ready to go.

He looked slightly uncomfortable, as if the realization of everything that had happened just dawned on him. "We, uh--we should probably talk about this..."

Your expression hardened slightly, unsure of what he was trying to say. Did he regret it? "We can talk about it later. Let's just get back to Quantico."

Hotch nodded, noticing the way you'd closed up when he'd mentioned talking. He couldn't deny that he was worried--and perhaps slightly ashamed that he'd given in to his primal desires. He just had to hope you didn't hate him.

You stayed quiet for the whole ride back to Quantico, leaving Hotch to wonder silently if he'd really and truly messed things up for good.

**********

After the interviews were completed and the unsub had confessed to all of the murders, it was almost 2am. You were beyond ready to go home, as was the rest of the team.

Everyone was leaving except for Hotch. He watched as you started to make your way towards the elevators. He knew he needed to make a decision...

The elevator doors closed with you inside and his decision was made for him. He figured he could talk to you on Monday...or maybe just never bring it up ever again. Maybe that's what you'd prefer.

You'd never admit it to anyone, but you went home that night and cried yourself to sleep. You should have known better--hell you did know better. Giving yourself over that easily was embarrassing...especially when you did it with your boss.

Hotch didn't call that night, nor the next day, and when you came to work on Monday, he tried to catch your eye, but you ignored him more harshly than you ever had before.

Two weeks went by in much the same way. You wouldn't even look in his direction and he desperately tried to think of something to say. The longer this went on, the harder it was for him to say something.

Friday night came and the team wanted to go out for drinks. You declined, opting instead to go home and curl up on your couch.

Hotch overheard your explanation to JJ, telling her you were too tired. He decided tonight would be the night when he would man up and actually talk to you.

A little before 6pm, there was a knock at your door. You were already in your pjs and you'd ordered Chinese food for dinner, so you assumed it was your delivery.

When you opened the door, you were shocked to see a soaking wet Aaron Hotchner standing at your door.

"Well you're not the Chinese delivery guy," you grumbled.

He held up the bag of Chinese food in his hand. "Caught him on the way in. He was more than happy to hand it to me so he could get out of the rain."

You sighed. "Come in then, before you get pneumonia."

He followed you into your townhouse, shutting the door behind him. He stopped in the entryway, clothes dripping all over the floor.

"I'll get you a couple towels."

"Thanks," he said sheepishly.

Even after toweling himself off, he was still soaking wet. He removed his coat and his suit jacket, leaving him in his white button down, which in its current state, did nothing to hide the body beneath it.

You swallowed thickly and averted your gaze. "So what brings you to my house in the pouring rain on a Friday night?"

"I...I thought we could talk," he mumbled.

You gestured to your dining table. "Pull up a seat. I got enough Chinese food for 4 people."

He sat down at the table across from you and you silently pulled out the different containers.

"Just don't touch the potstickers," you said lightly, the ghost of a smile playing across your lips.

He chuckled. "I learned my lesson on that one."

A couple years ago, the team had gotten Chinese food to sustain them on a late night of work. Hotch made the mistake of taking the last potsticker mere seconds before you came back for it. Every other person on the team knew better than to take the last one without asking you first and Hotch learned first-hand that night how aggressive you got about potstickers.

The two of you ate in silence for a little while. Since he'd come here without warning, you decided to simply wait him out. If he had something he wanted to say, he'd need to just come out and say it.

You were half-tempted to start humming the Jeopardy tune when Hotch finally spoke up.

"Sorry for stopping by unannounced."

"It's alright. I didn't have any exciting plans anyway," you said, gesturing to the containers on the table.

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. You could tell he was uncomfortable, but you weren't about to ease his pain. You were still annoyed with him.

"So I--I think I owe you an apology," he began.

You raised your eyebrows.

"I do owe you an apology," he corrected.

"Go on."

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "I shouldn't have done what I did that night at the hotel."

"In what sense?"

"I shouldn't have slept with you," he said softly.

You winced, but he wasn't looking at your face, so he missed your expression. "Right," you snapped, standing up. "Well if that's all--"

He finally looked up at you and you saw the pain in his eyes. It softened your heart and your expression. "Please," he whispered. "Just let me finish."

You sighed and sat back down.

"Can I start over?" he asked.

You nodded. "Please do."

"Do you remember when you first joined the team?"

"Of course."

"So do I. Better than I should, actually," he mumbled. "When you first started, I thought you were amazing. You were so incredibly smart, but so humble. You made me laugh, you brightened my day every single day...you made me feel something I wasn't sure I'd ever feel."

You inhaled softly, his words stirring something inside of you that you weren't sure you wanted to feel.

"Those first few weeks were incredible and I was so glad that you'd joined the team--not just because I enjoyed your company, but because of how good of a profiler you are. I realized there was a problem pretty early on and it changed everything for me." He sighed. "I started to treat you differently from the rest of the team and I'll admit I took it a little too far. I thought if I pushed you as far away as I could, then I wouldn't want you anymore."

He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up. He started pacing the length of the dinning room, eyes trained on the floor. "The thing is, you'd already managed to wedge yourself in my heart and nothing I did changed that. I kept telling myself that I'm your boss and I can't feel what I feel for you--that I can't have you. I was so angry at the whole situation that I started taking it out on you--and you didn't deserve that." He finally looked up at you. "You don't deserve that."

There were tears in your eyes, but you didn't say a word--you couldn't.

"The night of the op...I struggled to keep my composure from the moment you walked out in that dress. You looked so incredibly beautiful--you took my breath away. But when we walked into that ballroom and those men looked at you so hungrily...it disgusted me. The mere thought of any one of them touching you made me sick to my stomach, especially knowing what kind of people they were."

He looked angry even in that moment, as if talking about it was unbearable.

"My natural protective instincts kicked in and I almost forgot what we were there to do. I know I teased you a little and I'm sorry about that--it was unprofessional."

"You weren't the only one doing the teasing," you reminded him gently.

He smiled slowly. "True. But still. I shouldn't have done that." He clenched his jaw. "But when Andrew Connors looked at you, I saw red. I knew he was the unsub before he even came over to us. The way he looked at you...it terrified me. Then I had to watch him walk away with you and I couldn't breathe, (Y/N). The thought of something happening to you was overwhelming."

"I didn't know," you whispered.

"I've gotten very good at hiding what I'm feeling," he conceded. "When we busted into his hotel room and I didn't see you right away...my brain jumped to the worst conclusions. But then I saw you and you looked uncomfortable, but alive. I've never felt relief like that in my life."

You offered him a small smile and he continued.

"When you told me that he'd touched you, I almost lost it, but you were so calm. It didn't bother you the way it bothered me, and I realized that part of the reason I was so upset was because of how I thought of you--the possessiveness I felt--like you were mine. I couldn't stand the thought of him touching what belonged to me."

He paused. "I'm not saying you belong to me--that's just how it felt to me in that moment," he clarified. "By the time we got back to the hotel, I was so worked up I could hardly control myself. That sassy little attitude of yours was the last straw and I broke."

"You didn't actually break--I invited you in," you said softly.

"I literally caged you against a wall."

"And you asked me to tell you to stop. I didn't want you to."

His expression shifted slightly. "You didn't? Like even now looking back?"

You laughed mirthlessly. "Hotch, did you really think you forced yourself on me?"

He nodded slowly.

"You know me better than that. If I didn't want to do it, it wouldn't have happened."

"I just thought that maybe you were feeling confused and pent-up like I was and you just gave in because I was there."

"Do you know how terrible that sounds?"

"You're so out of my league it's not even funny--and I'm your boss! Are you really so surprised that's what I was thinking?!"

You inhaled sharply. "I'm not out of your league, Aaron Hotchner."

"Of course you are!" he insisted.

You groaned in annoyance. "How many men have I dated since I joined the BAU?"

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"How many?" you asked again.

"I...I don't know. You've never mentioned anyone."

You nodded. "That's because there hasn't been a single man. Not one."

"Not one? How is that possible?"

"Not a single one. Do you know why?"

He shook his head.

"You," you said simply.

"Me?"

"I wanted you from the moment we met and for some damn reason that's never changed, even with the way we treated each other."

His face was filled with complete and utter shock, which surprised you.

"You're a profiler, Aaron," you teased. "Did you really not know?"

He shook his head. "Maybe I just didn't want to believe it."

"Why not?"

"Because then I wouldn't have an excuse to keep us apart."

"And now?" you whispered.

He crossed the space between you and grabbed your hand, pulling you up out of your chair. "I can't take any of this back, (Y/N), and to be honest, I don't want to."

You gently caressed his face. "Something real?" you asked softly.

He turned his face into your hand and kissed your palm. "Something real," he confirmed.

You stood on your tiptoes and pulled him down to kiss you, his lips softly caressing yours. You moaned softly as you leaned into him, deepening the kiss. His arms snaked around your lower body, pulling you flush against him.

When you finally separated to breathe, Hotch leaned his forehead against yours. "I don't want to be presumptuous--" he began.

"Bedroom is the first room on the left," you murmured.

He chuckled. "You read my mind."

He slid his hands under your thighs and pulled you up with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist with a giggle as he carried you to your bedroom.

"So strong, Agent Hotchner," you teased warmly.

"Hmm," he hummed. "I like these titles you use."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed."

He tossed you down onto the bed and you laughed lightly.

"What are you gonna do to me, sir?"

He groaned softly. "You're going to be the death of me, beautiful."

You smiled and leaned back on your elbows. "I certainly hope not. I have plans for you."

"Sounds ominous," he teased.

You grinned. "You're going to love it, I promise. Now, why don't you lose those wet clothes?"

He smiled. "Only because you asked so sweetly." He started to unbutton his shirt tantalizingly slowly, eyes never leaving yours.

You bit your lip as you watched him, silently begging him to speed it up.

After what felt like an eternity he slid the shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor, but of course he was still wearing his undershirt. He started to very slowly lift it up, eliciting a groan from you.

"Aaron."

He chuckled. "Alright, alright." He pulled the shirt off over his head and tossed it onto the floor.

You let out a little hum of approval, which made him blush. He was a confident man, but he felt very exposed under your gaze.

He shed his pants quickly, leaving nothing on but his boxers. You eyed the bulge appreciatively, the memories of his size on the forefront of your mind.

"I think you're a little overdressed, baby," he teased lightly.

You looked down at your t-shirt and pj pants. "Hmm...you might be right." You yanked your shirt off in one smooth motion, tossing it to the side before looking back at him.

He practically pounced onto the bed, eyes glued to your torso. "No bra?" he whispered.

"I wasn't expecting company."

"I'm not complaining," he said almost reverently as he hovered over you, hands touching your sides.

He licked his lips before kissing you softly, moving down the column of your throat down towards your breasts. He swirled his tongue around your nipple before giving it a light nip as he took it into his mouth.

Your back arched towards him and a soft moan left your lips. Your hands immediately went to his broad shoulders, holding onto him as he toyed with you.

His hands slid down your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he went. He didn't want to let go of you, but he needed to remove your pants. He was dying to bury himself between your legs.

You wiggled your hips to help him as he tugged off your pjs. "Baby," he groaned, as you laid before him completely bare. "Never wear underwear ever again."

You laughed lightly. "If you promise to keep looking at me like that, I'll burn every pair I own."

He grinned wolfishly. "I'll make it worth your while."

He gripped your thighs and tugged your legs apart with gentle force. You gasped softly and his eyes flicked up to you to make sure you were okay. What he saw had him moaning with need of his own.

Your eyes were hooded and filled with lust, lips parted, a warm blush heating your face. You bit your lip when you caught him staring and shifted your hips slightly to get his attention back where you wanted it.

He gave you a little smirk before lowering himself comfortably between your legs. He nipped at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, hands massaging your hips gently.

"Aaron," you whined.

"Patience, sweetheart," he mumbled.

You whimpered softly, but you had a feeling he would make it worth the wait.

His lips slowly made their way towards your core, warming your body from the outside in. After what felt like an eternity, his tongue finally darted out sliding between your folds with ease.

You gasped in pleasure as he settled in, mouth moving against your core with expert precision. Every swipe of his tongue, movement of his lips, and vibration from his moans had you shivering with pleasure.

It didn't take him very long to work you into a heated frenzy. Within minutes, you were coming apart on his tongue, cries of his name reverberating through the bedroom. Your fingers clutched his dark hair, giving it a light tug when the pleasure became too much.

He lifted himself up, licking his lips as he eyed you with a dark look. His ministrations had only served to fuel his hunger and you could tell he was struggling to maintain his control.

"Can I taste you?" you asked sweetly.

Surprise lit up his features. "You--you don't have to."

You furrowed your brows. "I want to--badly."

He nodded hesitantly, rolling over to allow you access. He helped you remove his boxers and you inhaled sharply when his cock sprang free. You hadn't gotten a very good look at it the last time, but you'd known it was large. Now seeing it, all you wanted to do was feel the weight against your tongue.

You gripped the shaft firmly, pulling a soft moan from his throat. You licked your lips before pressing kisses to the head, the shaft, and his balls. You traced the large vein on the shaft with your tongue before slipping his large member into your mouth.

"Fuck," he groaned, hands immediately wrapping themselves in your hair.

Your mouth was so warm and wet, and the way you moved had him breathing heavily and making the sexiest sounds you'd ever heard. Each one spurred you on and your motions quickened.

"Just like that baby," he moaned. "Feels amazing."

You hummed appreciatively around his cock, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure through his body. His hips jerked up to meet your mouth and you gagged slightly.

A look of panic crossed his face at the sound, but when he looked down at you, it was clear you didn't mind. You pushed yourself a little lower onto his cock, gagging again as you took him into your throat. You wanted to make sure he knew you were into it.

He was surprised by how much it turned him on, his moans becoming almost embarrassingly loud. "Gonna cum if you keep doing that," he said lowly.

You sped up slightly, the only signal you gave him that you wanted exactly that--his cum pouring down your throat.

Moments later, he gasped your name as he came, and you swallowed every drop he gave you. You paid special attention to the head of his cock as he came down from his high, making sure to prolong his pleasure as much as possible.

He tugged your hair gently, pulling you off of him and up to his face so he could kiss you. When you separated, he was completely breathless.

"Where--" he breathed deeply, trying to steady his heart rate. "Where did you learn...to do...that?"

You grinned. "A magician never reveals her secrets," you teased with a wink.

He chuckled. "Best I've ever had, hands down."

You blushed. "Thank you."

"Thank you," he countered. He flipped you onto your back and climbed on top of you again.

"Oh!" you gasped in surprise as your back hit the mattress. "We're not done?"

He looked surprised. "Do you wanna be?"

You shook your head rapidly, causing him to laugh. "It's just--in my experience, most men are one and done."

"Oh baby, you've been hanging out with all the wrong men," he teased. "Besides, you only came once."

Your brows knit together in confusion. "So...?"

"I need at least two more from you."

"Two more? I've never cum more than once during sex."

"Oh now that sounds like a challenge," he said devilishly. "And I love a good challenge."

You blushed a little and wiggled slightly under him.

"Hey," he said softly. "We don't have to do anything you don't wanna do. Tell me to stop and I will, no matter what."

You smiled warmly and touched his cheek. "I appreciate that. I want you...I'm just not used to the whole 'multiple orgasms' thing."

He kissed your palm. "May I try?"

You nodded slowly. "Please..."

"I'll go slow, baby."

In a split second, you decided you didn't want him to go slow. You wanted him to ruin you and you had a pretty good idea how to rile him up.

"I want you to fuck me until I can't walk, sir." You put a lot of emphasis on the title, hoping it would have the desired effect.

You weren't disappointed. His eyes darkened instantly and his grip on your hips tightened. "Is that what you want, huh? You want me to use this sweet little pussy for my own pleasure?"

You inhaled sharply, desire evident in your expression. "Make me scream," you begged.

Hotch shifted his body and thrust into you without any warning, earning a cry of pained pleasure from your lips. "I can't deny such a pretty little request," he growled before he began to pound into you, setting a brutal pace.

You cried out again as the pain faded away, leaving only white hot pleasure in its wake. Your nails clawed at his back, finding purchase anywhere they could.

"Shit, baby--this pussy was made for me," he mumbled against the shell of your ear.

"Oh god," you moaned loudly.

"Keep making those pretty little sounds for me, baby."

His thrusts were measured and precise, each one hitting your sweet spot and sending waves of pleasure through you. Every inch of your body was on fire, from the tips of your toes up to the roots of your hair. You had never in your life felt this incredible and you never wanted it to end.

"Aaron," you gasped. "I'm so--so close."

"Fuck--" he growled. "Say my name again."

"Aaron."

Somehow his pace increased and it sent you tumbling right over the edge. You came with surprising force, pussy pulsating around his cock. As badly as he would have liked to keep his pace, he had to slow down to avoid cumming too.

"That's it, baby," he murmured against your neck. "Doing so well for me. Gonna give me one more?"

You hadn't been sure it was possible for you to have two orgasms, let alone three, but you were 100% willing to try. You nodded, but it wasn't enough for him.

"Can you use those words for me, pretty girl?"

"Yes, sir," you murmured.

He groaned and began to pick up his pace again. "That's my good girl."

Your eyes widened and your nails dug into his flesh slightly. The burning sensation caught his attention and he smiled. "You like that don't you? You wanna be my good girl?"

You nodded hastily. "Yes, sir. Please. I'll be so good for you."

He grinned. "Of course you will, baby."

He shifted his weight and pulled your legs up to his chest, allowing him to thrust even more deeply inside of you. His thrusts never faltered, his pace remained steady.

You whimpered below him, the pleasure almost too much. Your body was so sensitive, but you didn't want him to stop. "Please," you whispered.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

He kissed your leg softly before sliding a hand down between your thighs. He began to gently circle your clit as he continued pounding into you. Your moans grew in volume and your legs began to shake as the pleasure built.

"I know you're close, baby," he groaned. "I need you to cum for me."

You moaned as he increased the pressure on your clit. The feeling of his hands on you, his cock filling you up so thoroughly, and the gentle skill of his fingers combined to send you to the very edge.

You knew you needed something more--but you weren't sure if he would be comfortable with it. Neither of you had exactly had time to discuss what you were into in the bedroom.

You reached up and grabbed his hand from your leg, pulling it towards your face. He watched you, a look of confusion marring his handsome features. You placed his hand on the base of your neck, giving it a light squeeze to ensure he knew what you wanted.

His eyes widened, but he didn't move his hand. "Are you sure?" he whispered.

You nodded quickly. "Please, Aaron--I need it."

He groaned lowly and added a small amount of pressure to your throat, not enough to choke you, but enough for you to know he was there and he was in control.

You gasped in pleasure, the mixture of the various sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Within moments, you were crying out as you came, body shaking beneath his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

"Shit--" he moaned loudly. "I'm gonna--gonna cum."

"Fill me up," you begged.

It was all he needed to hear to cum, a cry of your name falling from his lips. His cock filled with you with what felt like an endless amount of his seed, his orgasm lasting for several seconds.

Finally, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. He kissed whatever skin he could reach as he tried to catch his breath.

"That was pretty decent," you said breathily, a teasing tone lacing your voice.

"Just decent?" he asked, head lifting to glare at you affectionately.

"Sooooo decent."

He laughed and you shot him a grin.

"Seriously, Aaron. It was fucking amazing."

"I couldn't agree more. I can stay here forever." He kissed your jaw. "Unless I'm hurting you?"

You shook your head. "I kinda like your body weight on top of me. Feels nice."

"Good because I don't think I can move yet."

You laughed warmly and wrapped your arms around him to hold him tightly against you. "You're pretty cute like this."

"Did you just call me cute?" he mumbled against your skin.

"Mhmm."

"Thanks, baby," he said with a little chuckle. "You're pretty damn cute too."

"Just cute?" you teased.

He lifted his head to look at you and smiled warmly. "You are absolutely the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. And right now? God...literal perfection."

You blushed, your entire face turning red. "Aaron..."

"I'm serious, (Y/N)."

"Thank you," you said softly.

He lifted himself up so he could look down at you better. "I'm going to tell you every second of every day so you don't forget."

You laughed lightly. "You're a dork."

"And you're sexy."

You laughed harder. "I kinda like this game."

He kissed you gently before sitting up entirely. "How 'bout I run a bath for you, hmm?"

"That sounds nice."

You watched him as he walked to your adjoining bathroom and began to fill up the tub. You smiled as you watched him, feeling incredibly happy. He was so handsome and sweet...just like you'd thought he was when you first met him.

You had never been thankful for an unsub or a case before...but you were thankful for this one. This case changed everything for you and you had a strong feeling the change was going to be permanent.

Hotch turned around to look at you with a warm smile and you felt it in your bones, this deep adoration for the man in front of you. You felt happy for the first time in years, really and truly happy--and you knew it was going to last forever.

#Aaron Hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotch x reader #hotch x reader smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #hotch smut

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waechan · 3 months

Text

nct dream hyung line; small moments

just little moments with each member.

fluff, slight angst (mostly cute)

⋆.˚

lee mark:

you two have been best friends since birth

he knows everything about you, and you know everything about him

he has a soft spot for you, confessed when you found him pacing at your doorstep one day with flowers

pretty quiet at school, sorta nerdy, but cute nerdy!

likes computers, plays basketball for fun

always sends you game pigeon as an excuse to develop conversation (even though you two are already dating)

plays guitar for you to help you fall asleep

you sing along with him sometimes and he always stares at you, smiling softly

works at his friends moms daycare and helps check the kids in and out

its late, 1 in the morning, and he calls you

you pickup, his voice is groggy

"can you come over?"

"of course."

you're there in an instant, you open the door, and you see him standing there in his pjs, looking lost

immediately you walk over, hug him tight, and he holds you, refusing to let go

"what's wrong?"

"i don't know what i'd do without you."

it's all he says, and it's all he needs to say.

"i love you too, mark."

2. huang renjun:

he was your tutor, and hated you, actually.

well, before you two started dating. and he fell for you without realizing. and you made him confess because you were tired of him being stubborn.

you were social, he wasn't

that's really all there was to it

you two basically competed for teachers pet privileges

it didn't start out that way, but you two got competitive for no reason

obviously he was smarter than you

"can you just shut up and listen to me for once?"

"can you just man up and admit you have feelings for me?"

yep, that's how it went.

he blushed

stumbled over his words.

you kissed him

he fell even harder.

little bickering moments like this always reoccurred in your lives, and sometimes people were convinced you actually hated each other

one day the two of you hang out with some of your mutual friends

you leave the cafe after having an intense debate about whether or not mint chocolate chip ice cream is overrated or not, leaving your friends behind after you had to go

"honestly, it tastes like toothpaste."

"can you just agree with your girlfriend? that's all there is to it."

he holds your hand and kisses the back of it as the two of you walk back, and nods

"yes maam."

3. lee jeno:

he was every girls dream

how did you manage to end up with someone like him?

by far the most popular guy at your school

everyone he looked at managed to become flustered

you were the sweet, yet quiet girl in the back

he still noticed you, every day he would look back at you without you noticing

one day, you were having a hard day

you just wanted to go home, wanted to sleep, wanted to forget about all the events that had happened prior which took a negative toll on your health

you see a piece of paper fall on your desk and the silhouette of jeno's shadow passes by

you look up and see him staring at you across the room

he nods

"open it." he mouths, his eye smile appears

you do so, and you immediately smile as you see what's inside

"turn that smile upside down!"

god, of course he had one chance and messed it up. it was so cliche, yet so jeno

and you didn't care that it was a bit on the cheesy side

you walk by him at the end of class

"i think you meant frown?" he gives you a look of confusion.

"wha- oh. oh shit."

popular jock, quiet girl. observer, and recipient.

sometimes though he needs help from you too

one night he stops by without even telling you

he walks through the door, hugs you, and pulls you into the living room

"nap time. please." he sounded so tired, so done.

you chuckle.

angel sent from above. that's what he was.

4. lee haechan:

best friends older brother

shouldnt even be an option tbh

but haechan was haechan, his teasing made you blush, his small acts of care for you never went unnoticed

the three of you went to a cafe

your best friend ordered, then went to the restroom

you ordered your drink

he pushed you to the side

ordered his drink as well

paid for you like nothing happened

"haechan you really didn't have to-"

he puts a finger to his lips as his eyes twinkle, and he smiles gently at you

"i wanted to"

fast forward

you're official and he will not leave your side

always attached to you, in public he glares at any guy who stares at you for a millisecond too long

you walk into a clothing store and the worker smiles at you

"hi, do you need help finding anything?"

haechan pops out of nowhere and grabs your hand

"uh, no, i think we're good, thanks."

he pulls you away immediately

"what was that for??? he was just asking for help..." you whine

"nuh uh, no he wasn't. i know how guys work."

you chuckle. just go with it.

whatever makes him happy.

⋆.˚

let me know if you want the maknae line version! it's my first post on tumblr:) i am taking suggestions as well

#nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #lee haechan #lee mark #nct dream #lee jeno #huang renjun #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct dream scenarios

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blueberry-lemon · 10 months

Text

An introductory guide to getting into Sonic the Hedgehog...

…if you're a grown-ass adult who is busy and doesn't want to play a bunch of video games but thinks the characters look sorta cool.

If you've ever been curious about Sonic as a series but haven't known where to start, I have some recommendations! I think Sonic is a cool and still somewhat unique thing because it takes cartoony characters (like a Mickey Mouse or Felix the Cat) and lets them jump around in cool action sequences through the lens of a shonen anime. It's colorful and usually pretty light-hearted, and I think the character designs are pretty iconic.

There's two handy places you can start without prior context, to see if it's something you'd be into...

Getting Started: If You Wanna Read Something

The IDW Sonic Comics

There were years of different Sonic comics back in the '90s and early 2000's, but the franchise got a complete reboot and fresh start with IDW Publishing in 2018. If you're looking for the most straight-forward way to get into this world of characters, I think this is a great start. You don't need any prior knowledge whatsoever to crack open issue 1 and get started. All you need to know is "Sonic and his friends protect the world by fighting against an evil scientist named Dr. Eggman, who they just recently defeated after he briefly took over the world."

I love these comics and I feel that the writers and artists who work on it have a really good sense for this series. Reading issues 1 through 12 will get you the first major story arc. If you like it so far, I highly suggest reading up through issue 32, when another major story arc concludes. After that, the world's your oyster! Unlike the tangled web of Marvel or DC comics, IDW Sonic has a very simple and linear reading order. You pretty much just read the issues in order, and occasionally there are spinoff stories that are optional to read.

Getting Started: If You Wanna Watch Something

Sonic Mania Adventures

Maybe comics aren't your thing and you want something even quicker. These are a series of animated shorts that are lovely. Conveniently, they've been compiled together by Sega into one little video right here.

It's a great intro to some of the main characters, and combines cartoon slapstick with some amazing action sequences.

There's also a nice little epilogue short.

Sonic CD's intro cutscene

If I had to pick a single 1-and-a-half minute clip to embody what I like about this series, it would be this very simple intro movie that plays before Sonic CD. Check it out!

Sonic Origins/Sonic Origins Plus Cutscenes

In 2022, Sega released a compilation of the classic Genesis games on modern consoles. In it, they added a few animated cutscenes. You can watch those cutscenes, plus the Sonic CD intro and the Sonic Mania Adventures episodes, all compiled into one handy Youtube video.

Taking The Next Step: If You Wanna Read Something

The Archie Sonic Comics

You might have heard that Sonic had a comic series published by Archie Comics from 1992 to 2016. This was a vast, overarching series that wrote an original story by weaving together ideas from the different Sonic cartoons and games. It went through several different writers, many different artists, and obviously spanned over multiple eras of pop culture.

It's pretty cool! The fact that it was so long-running, and the fact that Sega wasn't very strict with what the writers could do, led to a lot of buckwild lore, new characters, and plot developments. That said, it's also pretty bizarre, complicated, corny, and cringey at times. There is a stretch in the middle that is pretty infamous among fans.

You have a few options for jumping in.

Option A: You can start at the very beginning and read all of it. If you do this, it is going to be like a One Piece / Homestuck / etc. kind of undertaking, and you're going to be pushing through the good and the bad of huge genre and tone shifts. That's your call!

Option B: You can brush up on the main characters on a wiki and then start at Issue 160, when Ian Flynn (who now does a lot of work on IDW Sonic) became the lead writer. More specifically, you can jump in at the start of a new story arc by starting at Issue 175.

Option C: You can start at Issue 252, when there is a universe-altering event that essentially retcons all of the characters and plot threads from the previous writers and starts completely fresh. Easier to keep track of and you won't have to worry about all the previous plot and lore.

If you want something you can read in a single sitting, you should instead read Sonic: Mega Drive, a short-lived miniseries published by Archie that follows "Classic Sonic" characters (aka, the same vibe and art style of Sonic Origins, Sonic Mania Adventures, etc.) It's really great!

Taking The Next Step: If You Wanna Watch Something

Sonic the Hedgehog (OVA) aka "Sonic the Hedgehog: The Movie" (1996)

This is, essentially, a 1-hour Sonic anime movie. You can watch it in Japanese or in English. I adore it. It makes up its own lore and continuity so you don't need to know anything before going in, besides generally knowing a one-sentence synopsis of who Sonic, Tails, and Dr. Robotnik are. It's action-packed, well-animated, and has great music. Enjoy! Sonic X If you're enjoying what you've seen so far, and you want something much, much longer...there's an official 78-episode anime adaptation of Sonic called Sonic X. It's an original story that loosely pulls together some ideas from a few of the games. It's mostly intended for a younger audience, but I hear if you watch it in the original uncut Japanese, it feels a little less "for kids."

Other Ways To Get Into Sonic

There's some great video essays on Youtube about the series!

Professional animator Dan Floyd did an in-depth video looking at the highs and lows of Sonic character animation in the games starting from Sonic 1 up through Sonic Forces.

Super Bunnyhop plays through the first level of a bunch of Sonic games to compare how the mechanics, physics, and level design feel throughout the games' history.

Liam Triforce has a great deep dive on the franchise's music.

You can play The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, a murder-mystery-party themed visual novel put out by Sega. It's nice and short, so you can finish it in an afternoon.

If you haven't seen them already, you can check out the live-action/animated hybrid films Sonic 1 and Sonic 2 featuring Ben Schwartz and Jim Carrey, they're pretty good. That Sonic Prime cartoon that's currently on Netflix is pretty good too.

This may sound strange, but honestly you might enjoy poring over the sprite sheets from the old games. In particular, I really like the sprite animations from the GBA games, like Sonic Advance and Sonic Battle.

Sega is pretty lax about allowing noncommercial fan games, so there's at least a hundred different Sonic fan games out there by hobbyist developers. Check out the Sonic Amateur Games Expo and the Sonic Fan Games HQ.

You can watch LPs or cutscene compilations of the games on Youtube! If you watch Sonic Adventure, Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic Heroes, you'll get a crash course on most of the characters.

And finally, of course...you can play the games if you want to! There's a number of them that are available on Steam, Switch, Xbox, and Playstation if you don't have access to older consoles.

There's a lot of different angles to come at Sonic as a franchise, and lots of different entry points. Have fun!

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sth #idw sonic #idw sonic the hedgehog #sonic mania adventures #blogofkylelab

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lisafication · 6 months

Text

Digging Graves for your Morals; Or, The Ethical Problem of Outlawry

Hello, yes, I am here again. This one is shorter, I swear (it’s under four thousand words, even). If this is the first post from me you’re seeing, this is a follow-up to my prior essay posted here on the game The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, although it should be able to mostly stand alone.

At the end of my last essay, I touched on both the game’s nearly uncompromising moral scepticism and relativity, but I didn’t really dig into it. I outlined that the game only textually frames actions as ‘morally bad’ in the context of a morality set by the society and the world that has treated them as no better than farm animals raised for the slaughter. Well, I have a lot to say on the topic of ethics on the topic of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, so buckle in, this one’s going to talk about the social contract, moral scepticism and everyone’s favourite topic: Mrs. Graves.

As usual, this was originally posted and formatted for on Sufficient Velocity and you can perhaps more easily read it there. Spoilers abound, and my content warning from last time still applies.

She’s not too hot on either ethics or her mother

The Meat of the Matter

Since a lot of this is optional or otherwise missable information, let’s review the premise the game gives us. If you’re already aware of all of this, I apologise, it won’t take long.

First off the bat, the quarantine at the start of the game was a hoax-driven money-making scheme of which you can pick up more-or-less all the relevant details of. This is entirely missable and by the time it’s possible to discover, our protagonists have better things to dwell on and have dialogue about, so I’ll give you a summary of what you can deduce from reading the notes and thinking about it.

The quarantine is an organ harvesting operation, as per some documents you can discover in the wardens’ office. They entrap the residents, test their blood types and starve to death those they deem surplus to requirements — alternatively the starvation itself could be their method of ‘preparing the harvest’, there’s evidence in both directions and it hardly matters — harvesting the organs of the others for sale. As our protagonists are AB-typed, the ‘universal recipient’ or ‘most selfish blood type’, they’re some of the first on the chopping block.

If you read through the newspapers and the documents in Mr. Washing Machine’s car, you can discover that ultimately ToxiSoda are responsible, and a similar thing is happening in a different city under the guise of a ‘chemical leak’. Should you further investigate matters, you will find mentions of the ‘man behind it all’, the doctor, or the Surgeon, as the fandom have been referring to him — you may recall Mrs. Graves mentioned someone similar! Yeah, he’s the guy who runs ToxiSoda, who are themselves partners with the water company that faked the parasite outbreak in the first place.

It’s all a life insurance scam, apparently

How much the details of the operation matter is something open to interpretation — it might just be something for players to figure out and Episode 3 will not cover the Surgeon at all, or he might play a major part; it's not particularly relevant to this essay. What matters is that it happened at all — indeed, it’s fairly easy to justify Ashley and Andrew in everything they did in Episode 1 (flashbacks aside), arguing that if they’d made any other decisions they’d have died — an argument that the victims dug their own graves, even if the Graves siblings put them in them. How correct that is is a matter of debate, but that you can make the argument at all matters, and we’ll be returning to this later. In my last essay (and again in the introduction here), I made an analogy to farm animals, raised without love and for slaughter. Let’s put a pin in the ‘for slaughter’ part for now and take a look at the ‘without love’ part.

That’s right, it’s time to meet the parents.

As Andrew notes, there are significantly more compelling reasons for you to say that

They Fuck You Up, Your Mum & Dad

They really do.

Our charming protagonists are, as with many things depicted in this game, an exaggerated, almost farcical example of this phenomenon — one that’s just grounded enough to still feel very real, just like the siblings themselves.

The late and lamentable Mrs. Graves is just the same: originally a teen mother, hopelessly out of depth with two difficult children — even if one was good at masking it — and an unreliable, emotionally unavailable (at least to their children) partner who can’t hold down a job, ends up foisting them off on each other and doing a Parental Negligence because she simply Cannot Cope. That’s the real part. The part where she gets paid off by an organ harvesting operation to leave them to die, that’s the borderline-farcical exaggeration that throws all the nooks and crannies of her character into sharp relief.

Mrs. Graves does not have a good relationship with either of her kids. Having self-admittedly fobbed the job of raising Ashley off on her son, to the degree that they did not even celebrate her birthday as kids, both of them hold differing degrees and types of resentment for her.

For Ashley, it’s hate — perhaps not quite so clear cut as that, as it’s her that calls for the eulogy and she shows some potential signs of discomfort while cleaning up her parents’ corpses, but by and large, it’s fairly simple and straightforward, as usual for Ashley. The sentiment is not exactly unreturned, either.

This brings Ashley’s heart great delight!

The most clear incident raising her from everyday ‘neglectful’ to ‘wow she wanted nothing to do with this kid’ is the optional ‘birthday cake’ scene, obtained by finding the present in Ashley’s first ‘transitory world’ dream, in which we see Ashley’s birthday and the founding of a lemon cupcake tradition between Leyley and Andy. She has received nothing from her family, notes that her ‘friends’ would say they were busy before she even told them the schedule and Andy takes her out to buy cupcakes with his pocket money.

This scene gets a callback in Andrew’s dream later. Just remember to Ask Nicely, rather than Kill Her.

Parents of the year, everyone.

So with Ashley it’s as straightforward and obvious as she herself is — she hates her mother, her mother hates her. With Andrew, as with Andrew himself, it’s a fair bit more complicated. His mother is a much more nuanced figure, who is believable in her role as an unfortunate teen parent who was trying her best. He has a degree of trust in her against, seemingly, his own good judgment In her conversation with Andrew, she acknowledges her fault in raising him and seemingly sincerely tries to offer him a ‘way out’, an olive branch.

I think many people have had relationships where they might say this

This scene in particular intrigues me, because she is acknowledging fault in a way that Andrew strictly avoids doing — and well, there’s nothing Andrew likes more than a good way to avoid acknowledging any fault of his own. With her dominant relationship over their father as a model for Andrew to draw comparisons to his own relationship with Ashley with, it’s no surprise that the narrative resonates with him to the point of ‘Accept’ being many people’s first completion.

Of course, that’s not all there is to it. There is a fascinating contrast with her later conversation with Ashley, where she — despite accusing Ashley of brainwashing Andrew — refers to Leyley and Andy as ‘two psychos’ and states that she always knew they were responsible for Nina’s death and that, implicitly, they owe her for not turning them in.

There's something about mother-daughter relationships here that I just do not have the time or reading to dig into, unfortunately.

Meanwhile, when Andrew interrogates her on her possession of their death certificates, she has… an interesting, plausible story about a life insurance scam and claims that she really did think they died in the fire, implicitly denying the claim that she sold them. It’s entirely possible that she’s describing the details of the ‘scam’ correctly — you can even buy that she genuinely does care for Andrew in some way, if not Ashley, but her claim about being an honest, grieving parent shocked at their deaths… doesn’t add up?

This is a very normal reaction to your supposedly dead children showing up in your house.

As Andrew himself notes after hearing her story, she’s full of shit. This gets into speculation, because there are a few ways to read this, but the most plausible ‘gist’ is that she and her partner were paid off in money and jobs to not raise a fuss — the surgeon she mentioned is almost certainly the founder of ToxiSoda, remember?

The overwhelming difference in presentation between how she speaks to Andrew and Ashley invites investigation — and when Andrew turns down her offer and tells her he isn’t interested in her offer in Decline, her reaction isn’t… despair, it’s shock — and well, there’s a good reason for that.

Why do you think she did it in the first place?

This is the happiest we see her

Well — it’s so she can finally fit into society. That white picket fence, that idyllic 1950s life — hell you can call it the American Dream. She wants that, or as close to it as she can get — the working-class teen mother, living in poverty, aspiring to the middle-class. It’s a very common, very real and very grounded motivation.

And to that end, she effectively sold off her children. It’s no wonder she can’t fathom why Andrew wouldn’t choose the same.

That’s the part that makes you think — just like the deaths in Episode 1, well- maybe the siblings are justified here, too. It’s a weaker argument, but it’s still one you can make under many common moral paradigms today — what goes around comes around, all that jazz. Just look at how awful she was to Ashley.

She’s finally found what she’s been striving for.

Here’s the thing, here’s the thing though — what, reasonably, could she have done? Andrew and Ashley briefly highlight this in conversation about Ashley’s ‘friends’ in Episode 1 — was she supposed to fight gunmen to try and break them out? Throw food to the balcony from four stories?

Moreover, as she herself says to Andrew… would anyone really have been able to do better than her in her position? She was seventeen when Ashley was born, living in poverty with a partner who couldn’t even remember Andrew’s name when he was a kid. Anyone would have had difficulty, let alone with these kids.

Her evils are — they’re not any deliberate action, but rather… prompted inaction. She didn’t have the emotional energy, resources or plain capability to properly parent her children, she didn’t have any solutions to their murder of Nina in a state so blatantly hostile to its underclass, she didn’t have a way to connect with Ashley and she took the money rather than fight a futile and likely suicidal battle against a corporation and its armed goons in a dystopian setting.

Ashley, notably, does not deny this.

Her sin is the one we’re all, I think, guilty of — that of not trying hard enough, that of inaction in the face of difficult tasks, of not standing up on principle because it’s just too much that day and you don’t have the spoons, you’ll do it tomorrow (no you won’t). It’s a petty, everyday kind of evil — that of not doing enough.

Is that enough to condemn her? Certainly, there’s a pretty manipulative read of her that likely has some truth to it — in the locked door in Ashley’s dream in ‘Decay’ you can discover that she has a ‘not-hatched’ tar soul — but consider that lens — the game won’t make up your mind for you, so you’ll need to choose that for yourself.

The dad is interesting in terms of negative space — but he’s mostly important in that he doesn’t matter, so I decided to not fit him in here. He has art, though — just no sprite, because, well, he’s never mattered to either sibling.

The Contract We Call Society

Right, it’s time to get a little bit Theoretical in here. Not much, but a little. Social contract theory is a complex topic with a lot of nuance, much of which I will be eliding in the name of not writing a twenty thousand word paper on semiotics, law, and anthropology, but the short analogy is… the idea that as long as you play by society’s rules, as long as you are a good citizen, a good person, the state, or the community, will take care of you.

In a number of ways, the harshest penalty levied by many historical states and legal codes was not death, but rather the criminal status of outlawry, a practice that’s cropped up a number of times in history — the practice of no longer being protected by the law. This meant one could be killed or worse with impunity — you were no longer protected by mob justice and, while overexaggerated as a term of reference, certain texts from Medieval England refer to outlaws as bearing a wolfshead, ‘for the wolf is a beast hated by all folk’. Never minding that wolves are actually delightful, this was a time when wolves were actively hunted and sold by people — and the same was intended to happen to outlaws. They were ‘fair targets’ as far as society was concerned, no longer to be treated as your fellow citizens.

This was the gravest punishment on the books, for most of these legal codes — something saved for those who had broken the social contract so completely that there could be no turning back (civil outlawry is… a bit different, that’s not the topic here). Among others, a modern critique of the concept is that it offers no incentive for improvement, no incentive to change or to cease harming society — if an outlaw has none of the social contract’s protections, what reason do they have to obey… any of the social contract? If that seems familiar, well, let me ask you this:

What if the state or community fails its end first? What responsibility does the innocent outlaw have to that contract?

It’s an interesting phrasing, that the world is better off.

It’s time to talk about the incest, and part of why it’s there. The cannibalism too, but that’s less impactful here. If you’ve seen me elsewhere, you might have seen me say that the incest is a load-bearing narrative pillar — in large part due to it being a critical facet of the siblings’ relationship, but in another large part due to it being an equally critical part of how the game uses taboo.

A taboo is in this context something that is considered repulsive and to be avoided by society. It’s a more complex term than that — you can also use it for certain sacred actions or utterances that are only permitted to certain people, for example — but that’s what it is here. Swearing, premarital sex, BDSM and murder are, approximately from weak to strong, some example taboos held in modern Anglospheric society.

Strong taboos are a staple of horror — they shock, they disgust, they draw people’s attention and it’s that last one that’s critical here. Incest is a very strong taboo — while I am absolutely not segueing into its historical context, the very well-established Westermarck effect gives it a certain timelessness and immunity to desensitisation that most other taboos don’t have — murder, to contrast, is a taboo we’re largely desensitised to in modern media and works of modern media have to put in actual work to make a murder seem horrifying — through atmosphere, cinematography, evocative prose etc.

And this is important because the use of taboo I’m covering in this essay is that the incest is used to invite judgment — it is so ingrained as a ‘wrong thing’ in people’s brains almost regardless of background that it forces the player to engage with the work morally. And that’s where the fun starts.

I’ve mentioned before, very briefly, about the juxtaposition of tone between the Burial & Decay endings, contrasting with the very monstrous difference in morality. Burial is remarkably light-hearted — they play around with the drain blockage, they joke about their mother’s personality and this is further exaggerated on the Love path, where Andrew is much more comfortable with casual contact and the two make a game out of how far they can throw their parents’ skulls, the humour is directly contrasted against their abhorrent actions.

I’ll be real Ashley is far more merciful than I, I’m shuddering at the thought of that gunk in my hair

In comparison, Decay is… bleak. I’ve seen it being referred to as being ‘emotionally sandblasted’ and, yeah I think that’s fair — it’s uncomfortable, it’s heavy and it’s just not fun. And this is the route in which, if you chose Trust into Accept, Andrew has bought into the narrative that his mother’s offered — that he can fit just fine into society if he wasn’t stuck, if not for Ashley — the route that ‘fits’ most closely to the social contract, to Andrew feeling the guilt that we think he should and hating the monsters that they’ve become, as the social contract deems them. Given the pains the game takes to attach the player to the protagonists, this normative moral ending is very easily interpreted as the bad ending.

And well, isn’t it?

Thing is, as mentioned above, the social contract has never held up its end for them. The game takes careful pains to point out to a viewer that they’ve never had the life that society promises people, so why do its moral standards apply?

The game invites you to judge the characters, and in the same motion, asks you from what principles you judge them, making a pretty good guess in that, like most people who haven’t spent a large amount of time navel-gazing and reading some very boring books by very dusty old men, they come from the society around you.

Love even has Ashley express this sentiment directly after the incestuous dream — she asks you — well, Andrew, but this is also something for the player to mull over — why this is what’s engaged your morality or sense of revulsion, rather than the desecration, cannibalism or murder.

Andrew and Ashley are both very funny and very fascinating in this scene.

And that’s the framing that it casts all of its own moral judgement in — even the ‘tar-soul’ aspect is… well, it’s unclear what it even means. Mrs. Graves was a ‘not-hatched’ tar soul, after all. Other than that, it’s society and the world being better off without them, rather than any kind of assertion of objective morality. Due to the present of ‘soul colour’, we’ll presumably see the game make some moral statements in Episode 3, but as it stands?

It’s nearly completely morally sceptical, in and of itself — it’s not interested in moral assertions or education, it’s interested in making you question your own morals. Deconstructive (not that kind), rather than dialectic, to be mildly pretentious.

It uses taboo and shock to invite moral judgement, but then uses tone, charm and our instinct to look for the happiest end for our blorbos to get you to recognise that these are principles you yourself brought into the game, rather than any it’s handed you.

To summarise: you’ve brought these principles in from society, but what do the siblings, the protagonists, the villains to the world, owe society? Enough that they should follow them? It failed them first, after all.

Closing Thoughts

This one is a bit less energetic than the last, tragically — my sleeping schedule is the stuff of nightmares recently, I love windy weather. Wait, no the opposite. Huge thank you to everyone who commented on the last one, you are the wind beneath my wings and the main reason I managed to get this out this week.

This essay is a bit more interpretative than my last one — certainly, there are alternative readings and I’ve been toying with the idea of deliberately taking a reading I don’t like very much and writing from that perspective as a demonstrative exercise recently — mostly that you shouldn’t just take my word for things!

Otherwise, if the last bit at the end seemed murky, I apologise — I did try to write a more detailed version, but firstly, it was three thousand words and secondly, I re-read it the next day and I could not understand what the fuck I was talking about. Personally, I blame Derrida — suffice to say that I strongly recommend playing through it with an eye towards considering culpability, morality and why you think certain characters are more or less forgivable than others, and for what deeds. See what you get out of it.

I managed to keep one particular thread open to wrap up with here — I try to keep speculation on Episode 3 content to a minimum in the main essays, but it should be fine here — you might have noticed that I refer to Episode 1 and Episode 2 being on something of a spectrum of justifiability, with the siblings’ actions being ‘more’ justifiable in Episode 1 and ‘less’ justifiable — but still justifiable if you try — in Episode 2.

To continue the thought of the happiest ending being the one in which they step the furthest away from common morality and to further jar the viewers’ sense of morality by contrasting societal morality and blorbo-oriented morality, Episode 3: Burial could continue this trend in having a major victim be someone who, well, has done nothing wrong and isn’t even guilty of bystander syndrome.

I wonder if there’s any good candidates, someone who’s sweet, harmless and will indisputably be an innocent victim…

…I’m sure she’ll be fine

#the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #analysis #essay #ashley graves #andrew graves #mrs graves #nnnnot sure what the next topic will be #might do a deranged take on purpose #this one and the last one have been very grounded #I'll get to my asks tomorrow #probably #I've been busy sorry

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thewulf · 1 year

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Crash and Burn || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request! Y/N and Jake have a very… chaotic relationship. Many ups and downs between the two Naval Aviators. One moment they’re fine the next they are at each other’s throats. Everything goes wrong for the duo in training when Y/N catches Jake’s jet wash as he tries to show off for Maverick. Hurt/Comfort. Readers call sign is Jinx.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 4,000+

Arrogant. Cocky. Selfish.

Just a few words to describe your least favorite classmate, Hangman. He had mastered the art of getting underneath your skin. Phoenix always told you to play it cool around him or he’d just keep doing the same. You never learned your lesson always arguing back when he had to say some stupid misogynistic thing about female pilots. You had to hand it to Phoenix though, she never let Hangman work her up.

You hadn’t known him prior to Top Gun like your other classmates had. They gave you a forewarning when it came to Jake. Watch your back or he’d be the one shooting at it. You didn’t believe it at first, but you learned.

Quickly, you understood their warnings toward him. The world revolved around Jake Seresin to Jake Seresin. You dreaded when Mav called your name to go up in the air with him. You had yet to have any sort of success when you flew with Hangman. It always ended up in one or both of you being taken down by Mav. Jake never communicated with you always throwing you off your game. He was so good at making you feel less than.

Today was no different. You heard your name paired with Hangman’s drawing a subtle sigh out of your mouth. You let your head rest against your palm as you thought over your options. You didn’t have a back seater today. Fritz called in sick with the flu leaving you flying solo, something you rarely did. You could beg Mav to switch the teams up or you could deal with it. You opted for the first option.

Heaving your body out of your desk you slowly made your way to your teacher while the rest of the class went to the locker rooms. You really didn’t think you had it in you to deal with Jake today. Not sleeping well the previous night due to getting into a heated argument with an ex-boyfriend all your energy was zapped. Certainly not a good combination to be taking an F-18 up in.

“Mav,” You paused waiting for him to look up to you, continuing only when you had his attention, “Fritz is sick today. Don’t you think another team should go up with Hangman?”

He shook his head looking down at whatever he was working on, “No, Jinx.”

“But I don’t have a wizzo.” You frowned knowing it really didn’t make a damn difference today. You were just running the first half of the course. You didn’t really need Fritz until it was time to train to drop the bomb.

He shrugged, “You’ll fly without a back seater today. Understood?”

Letting out another small huff of annoyance you nodded, “Yes sir.”

“Good, now go get ready. You and Seresin are up first.”

“Course we are.” You nodded leaving the classroom slowly to go get changed. You’d been lucky to avoid being teamed up with him the last few training sessions, but your luck seemed to end today.

Jake was interesting to you. You certainly didn’t hate the man, but he made it so hard to actually enjoy his presence. He always had that stupid cocky grin on his face like nothing could knock it off. You had only seen him slip up with Rooster once other than that he was his usual arrogant self.

Changing quickly, you knew the faster you were up in the air the faster your session would be with Hangman. Exiting the women’s locker room, you made your way to your jet. Going through the pre-flight checklist thoroughly you didn’t hear your teammate approach you.

“Going to be able to keep up today, Jinx?” Jake leaned his frame against your jet taking a full look of you. A soft smile formed when he saw just how focused you were on your task at hand, hardly paying him any attention. He’d never admit it, but he lived for moments like this with you. Moments where he could study you without the world knowing just what he was doing.

He met you at the Hard Deck the night before Top Gun. You seemingly knew Phoenix and Rooster from a previous deployment. You quickly grabbed Jake’s attention with that pretty smile and angelic laugh. Jake swore he could hear your giggle across the bar. A sound so pretty he’d never dare to admit it to anybody.

He grabbed your attention in any way that he could. Even if it meant being the bad guy in your reality. At least you were paying him the attention he craved from you. Quickly, he found what pressed your buttons and made sure to press them whenever he could. Just to get into a debate with you. He loved it. He adored you.

Looking up at the interruption you kept the level head on your shoulders. Trying to do what Phoenix did so gracefully, “Can you just fly the mission? Not pull your usual bullshit Seresin?”

Placing a hand on his chest he feigned hurt, “I’m wounded Jinxie.”

Ignoring him you continued, “Can you? For once.”

Smirking he started sauntering off, like he owned the damn air strip, “Doubtful darling. Gotta be fast.” He threw you a wink before disappearing into his jet.

Rolling your eyes, you tried not to let him get the best of you. It was typical Hangman behavior. One that you would never be able to crack it seemed. You thought maybe you’d be able to in the beginning. You should’ve just listened to Rooster and Phoenix instead of trying with him. All it ended in was arguments every single time you tried to have a normal conversation with the man. You couldn’t lie though, there was something so damn appealing about Jake Seresin that kept you crawling back for more.

Signing off on your paperwork you hopped into your jet. Placing your helmet on you smiled as you took in the front dash. You just loved this. It never ceased to amaze you just how lucky you were. You were able to fly jets across the world. Meeting new people and finding new cultures never got old to you. And you got to fly around on top of it all? You loved every single second of your Naval career. Not having a single regret about all of your adventures.

Taxing onto the runway you waited behind Hangman as he got the all clear. He was Dagger One in this scenario, and you were Dagger Two. Thankfully, all you had to do was keep up with him and not have him on your ass chirping you every five seconds. You hated flying as Dagger One with Hangman as your wingman. It felt like your heart would burst from the sheer stress of trying to deal with him.

You got the all clear taking off finding Hangman in the straightaway. You accelerated already noticing how fast he was moving before you even begun the timed trial. Mav raced in beside the two keeping an eye out, “Two minutes fifteen seconds until target. Time begins when Hangman clocks it. Good luck.” Mav flew off above watching the duo from his eagle eye view.

“Ready Jinx?”

You were honestly surprised he gave you any warning before he took off, “Ready when you are Hangman.”

“Let’s turn and burn baby.” You heard the clock begin. Locking your eyes onto the back of Hangman’s jet you decided he wouldn’t be getting away from you that easily this time.

You kept up for the first thirty seconds before he punched it even further, “Hangman you’re going to fast!” You yelled into your mask trying to accelerate yourself. You started losing him as he only punched it even further.

“You’re not going fast enough!” He countered.

Your eyes lowered knowing he wasn’t going to let up so you sped up as much as your comfort level would allow you, which still wasn’t fast enough, “Hangman slow down!” You began pleading with the asshole pilot.

“Speed up Y/N!”

He never used your real name. He was challenging you. Sighing to yourself you kicked it up a notch not feeling all that great with your speed and closeness to the ground, “I can’t keep up!”

You heard him audibly groan into the comms, “Jesus Jinx, fine.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as his jet dropped speed suddenly. You knew you didn’t have enough time to slow down, or you’d plow right into the back of him. Decelerating at the same time you dipped slightly to avoid crashing right into him, “Shit, Jake what the fuck was that?”

“You said to slow down so I did.” You could practically hear the cockiness lace his voice from a mile away.

“Not like that you fucking asshole.” You sighed this time feeling your heart rate go down a bit. You’d had many close encounters in the jet but nothing like that.

“Hey Jinxie. Calm down.”

“Jesus,” You grumbled positioning your jet back up behind his, “Just go Seresin.”

You weren’t sure what happened but one second you were fine the next your right engine was out and your left one started sputtering, “Fuck.” Internally cursing you didn’t have a back seater to help you talk yourself through the next few minutes. Thankfully your training kicked in.

“Right engine out. No Fire. Restarting. Left engine compromised.” Calmly you spoke into your mask.

“Jinx?” You heard Mav’s voice come in.

“Jinxie what’s wrong?” Hangman’s voice chimed in right after Mavericks. He failed to see you behind him as he sped back up.

Desperately you hit the right combination of buttons, but nothing seemed to feed the engine the fuel it needed. “Shit. Not responding. Climbing to 5,000.” You pulled you plane into the climbing position trying to buy yourself some time.

“Jinx. What’s going on?” Mav sounded concerned.

As you were in the middle of pulling up your heart sank hearing another alarm go off, “Oh shit. Left engine out. No fire. Attempting restart.” You managed to stagger out. Again, you attempted to refuel and refire the engine

Mav came down to your level eyes wide seeing neither of your engines burning, “Jinx eject!” He sounded a bit panicked you noted.

Your training was kicking in though. You had maybe five seconds to try again. After that you’d have to eject or you’d be toast, literally.

“Restarting right and left engine.” Ignoring Mav’s orders, you punched and prayed the engines would respond.

“Jinx eject now!” Maverick commanded you.

“Fuck! Eject Jinxie! Now” You didn’t see Hangman come back around surveying the situation he believed he put you into.

No sign of life from your jet really caused your heart to sink knowing you really only had one option now. Your heart started racing seeing how low to the ground you already were, 2,000 fucking feet. This was going to hurt, “Fuck, ejecting.” You pulled the handle from underneath your seat sending you into the air.

The next thirty seconds felt like a blur as you were free-falling in the air. Your parachute worked it was just terribly disorienting. You’d trained for this but had never had to do it in the field. Shuddering, you heard your jet crash into the desert below. This wasn’t going to be very easy to explain to the admiral.

You knew you were far too low to the ground when you were in the jet to make a graceful landing. You just didn’t expect how bad it would actually hurt once you hit the rocks of the desert below you. You hit the ground hard and fast, the parachute not having the proper amount feet to descend to really break your fall.

Rolling to a stop as the back of your head hit a boulder immediately you knew something wasn’t right. Hardly being able to keep your eyes open you attempted to stand up only falling right back into the same spot you rolled into, “Fuck.” You groaned closing your eyes feeling terribly weak.

You didn’t see any blood on your chest or legs which was a very good sign, but you just couldn’t keep your eyes open. The only way you seemed to stay coherent after cracking your head against the bolder was fluttering your eyes.

Hearing the faint mumbles of Mav and Hangman you couldn’t really make them out. You tried to stand again but miserably failed as your legs shook far too violently to stand on their own. A small tear fell down your face as the feeling of utter defeat began to take over. You had never experienced your body giving out on you so dramatically before. It was humbling when you couldn’t even stand on your own two feet.

Trying to keep your eyes open you focused on the words coming through your comms. You faintly heard Maverick, “Jinx, please copy.”

Before your eyes completely gave out on you, you heard another soft, “Jinxie please!” Sounding awfully familiar to Hangman’s usually annoying voice.

Opening your mouth, you so desperately wanted to let them know you were alive. You were okay. But you just couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“Mav, I didn’t see a parachute, did you?” Shit, they thought you were dead? You were risky but not risky enough to kill yourself.

“I think I did. Fuck. Jinx, please copy.” He tried you one more time a little beside himself. He’d witnessed the entire accident in horrifying detail taking him right back to his own accident from years prior. You pulled your plane up just as Hangman punched it immediately shutting your right engine down and compromising the left with the wash he left behind. He’d seen it several times out in the field but nothing that bad since his own accident.

Frustrated that you couldn’t communicate with your teammates you began to cry more opting you to slide the helmet right off your head to get some fresh air. Feeling a warm trickle down the back of your neck you hesitantly turned your helmet over revealing a rather large crack near the base of it. This was a very bad sign.

Slowly you placed a hand to the back of your skull slightly horrified at the red blood that coated your hand entirely. Fuck. You knew this wasn’t good at all. Trying to stay conscious you unzipped a pant leg off your flight suit planning to use that as a cloth to apply pressure to your head wound.

With all your strength you had left you leaned your head against the boulder placing the piece of flight suit in between praying you had enough pressure to keep you awake while you waited for rescue. Realistically you knew you only had to wait a few minutes before a team of medics were on the way. They were probably already halfway to you. All you had to do now was keep your eyes open. You could do that.

Grabbing your helmet, you decided to listen to the air chatter knowing at the very least it’d keep you focused on something rather than falling into unconsciousness. It pained you to hear the desperate plea’s from not only Hangman and Mav but command as well. It seemed as if everybody was trying to get you to respond.

Again, you attempted to speak only to be met with the utter silence of nothing coming out. It’s like the rock knocked your ability to speak right out of your own head. It was a rather gut-wrenching feeling to not be able to say a word. Just to let them know that you were okay. But you couldn’t. Your body simply refused.

Another few minutes passed which felt like hours as you sat there in the beating sun. Just as you were about to give into the darkness you heard the helicopter above you. Looking over a few vehicles approached in the distance. A small smile flickered on your face knowing they finally made it to you.

Before you knew it a few medics approached you quickly triaging the situation. They realized how incoherent you really were as you tried responding to their questions but couldn’t seem to talk.

“Hey Jinx. We’re going to patch you up alright?” A familiar face leaned down brushing the hair out of your face, “Just try and stay awake, okay?” It clicked that it was your team’s physician. He knew you very well taking your vitals and stats all the time.

“Let them know we’ve got her. Critical care.” You heard him say before placing something cold around your neck.

“You’re going to be alright. We’re taking you to the base hospital.” He smiled softly at you before he gave the next round of orders to his team.

The next while was a blur of you floating in and out of consciousness mixed with tons of people asking you too many questions. None of which you could answer as your voice was still missing.

Finally, you were able to sleep given the okay from a worried looking doctor you’d never seen before. You couldn’t seem to care as unconsciousness swallowed you whole.

The faint beeping brought you out of the deep slumber you were in. Rolling your head to the side you spotted Hangman sleeping in the chair next to your bed. Initial confusion rolled over you and you unfortunately heard the beeping pick up pace rapidly.

The change in background noise brought Hangman out of the light sleep he was in. He had been waiting on you for the last twelve hours or so. Refusing to leave your side until he knew that you were okay.

The initial prognosis given to them wasn’t great. The medics noted you as delirious, out of it, non-responsive before you went out completely. It worried him beyond belief. Especially knowing it was likely his actions that got you here. Mav kept trying to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, but you got caught up in his jet wash. Just like Mav did all those years ago. It’s a freak occurrence and 99% of the time jets handle it fine. You were just one of the unlucky ones.

He looked over to you seeing your panicked expression. His face softened as he realized how much this must be for you, “Hey Jinx. You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

You felt some sense of relief knowing he was real. Sitting right there. You weren’t dreaming. You were back to the land of the living. You nodded recalling having to eject from your jet. You don’t remember much after that though.

“Can you speak?” He scooted the chair closer, so he was right up on the bed, right next to you.

“Yeah.” You managed to croak out. Your throat was feeling rather dry. Likely from all the sand and dirt you inhaled out there.

Grinning at the sound of your voice he grabbed your hand, “Good, let me go get a doctor.” He began to stand up before you stopped him by grabbing at his hand like he just did yours.

“No!”

He paused cocking his head to the side studying you curiously, “Just give me a minute. They’re going to ask a lot of questions and…” You paused not sure if he was even listening. This was Hangman after all. To your utter surprise he had his eyes locked on you, soaking up your every word. You decided to continue, “My head really hurts. I don’t want to talk to them just yet.”

Sighing Hangman looked all too conflicted. What was five minutes anyway? On the other hand, if your head really hurt you that bad why didn’t you want to see a doctor? Didn’t you want the help? Opting to go with your wishes he sat back down making a note of the time, he wasn’t going to give you more than the five minutes you requested.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly seeing him sit there against his better judgement.

“Sure. Are you alright at least?”

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath in, “I’m okay. I just don’t feel great.”

“You scared us up there. You scared me.” He admitted whispering it almost so you couldn’t here.

Mustering a small halfhearted laugh, “Like you really care Seresin.” His face dropped immediately after your comment. Meaning it in more of a joking manner you didn’t think he’d take you so seriously.

“Why would you say that? Of course, I care Y/N.”

“One less pilot you have to deal with.” You kept trying to joke with him, but he wasn’t letting you. Taking it far more seriously than you were.

Shaking his head he grabbed your hand, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

He groaned. Frustrated that he wasn’t so great at showing real emotion, “Acting like I don’t care. I do care. A lot.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” It slipped out way faster than intended. You didn’t want to make him feel like a total asshole, but your concussed brain had other ideas.

Head down Jake sighed, “I’m sorry Jinxie. I really am. I never would have thought… I wouldn’t have done that if I would have known…”

“It’s okay Jake.” You shushed him. You had never seen this side of the cocky Jake Seresin before. You weren’t even sure if Jake had a more human side to him. All it took was you nearly cracking your head open to get him there. Who would’ve known?

He shook his head, “It’s not though. What happened to you. Seeing your plane go into freefall and not seeing you eject was hell Y/N. And then you didn’t respond? Mav and I could only think the worst.” His stare could have bore holes into the back of your head.

Cheeks heating up you turned away from him, “Well, I’m still here.”

Jake smiled picking your hand back up feeling the urge to have you close, “Thank goodness for that.”

Stitching your eyebrows together you looked him over, “You going soft on us?”

“Not on us.”

“What?” You asked him sincerely.

“Only for you.”

Sucking in another breath you turned on your side to face him completely, “What do you mean?”

“I can’t lose you Y/N.”

Where was all of this coming from? While you had to admit he was an incredibly attractive guy you never thought in a million years he’d be going for you. All the two of you did was bicker back and forth. Sure, it never got nasty but the two of you could never agree on the same thing. Not even toppings on a pizza. There always had to be an argument between the two of you.

“Are you saying you like me Jake?” eyeing him curiously you couldn’t take your eyes off of him as you anxiously waited for his answer.

He looked up at you. Studying your face for any sign of contempt. For any sign that your repulsed by the sheer fact that not only did he have a full-on crush on you. He was sure he just might love you to.

Nodding his head in agreement it he finally admitted it out loud, “Yes Jinxie. I like you.”

Smiling to him you grabbed one of his hands this time, “You know we aren’t in middle school anymore Jake.”

“Hmm?”

“If you like someone you can be nice to them. You know instead of making them eject and landing them in the hospital.”

Chucking he looked you right in the eyes, “I’m sorry Y/N. Would you give me a chance to prove I’m not a middle school boy?”

Returning his laugh you squeezed his hand, “I’d love to get to know adult Jake.”

“Friday. 6 o’clock. I’m picking you up and taking you out to a nice dinner.”

Raising your eyebrows you took another long look at him, “I can’t wait.”

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agentshades · 6 months

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A hyperfixater's guide to fully enjoying the Remedyverse:

- Google "Max Payne Grimace"

- Look up enough of the comic panel cuscenes from Max Payne 1 to realize all the characters are Remedy's office staff plus the band members from Poets of the Fall.

- Listen to "The Late Goodbye."

- Play Alan Wake 1. Preferably in the dark. Listen to all the music in between chapters. Wait at least a day between the main story and the DLC chapters to really let the feeling of wanting to know what happened sink in.

- Optional: Wait two years

- Play Alan Wake's American Nightmare. Arachnaphoba may vary.

- Optional: Wait four more years.

- Optional: Play Quantum Break. It's not officially part of the Remedyverse but we didn't know that at the time and it played with our emotions with Alan Wake teases for the entire damn game. Plus - Lance Reddick at his finest.

- Optional: Wait three more years.

- Play Control. Explore a lot. Read everything you can get your hands on. Bask in the nigh unrivalled glory of The Ashtray Maze.

- Prior to playing the Control DLCs, spend an ungodly amount of time obsessing over why one of them is just called "AWE" and all the possible implications.

- Play the Control DLCs

- Freak the fuck out

- Optional: Wait 4 more years

- Play Alan Wake 2

- Gush about how much you love it all to me specifically because nobody ever knows what I'm talking about when I mention these games and you guys they are important to me in a way that should probably deeply embarass me.

Of course to really get the full experience you'll need to constantly concuss yourself to the point of never knowing if Alan Wake 2 will ever exist and thus preserve the sweet agony of being a Remedy fan between 2010-2020ish.

Old Gods of Asgard music may help soothe the pain.

#alan wake 2 #alan wake #control #remedy #quantum break #old gods of asgard #its not a lake #its an ocean #barry wheeler for president

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multiwreckedmess · 1 year

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February Filth Fest - Day 27

Pairing: Wolf!Chan x Fem!Reader Prompt: Hybrid (furry) WC: 3.4k Summary: Your yearly visit home to catch up with your neighborhood friends was something you looked forward to every summer. Especially your fleeting moments with Chan. There’d always been something inexplicable about him, about the two of you. TW/CW: Knotting, rut/heat (implied), breeding, predator/prey, dubious consent. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Extended tw under the cut,

Dubcon all the way. Obviously two sides to wolf!chan, this might fit better under omegaverse? I’m not a consumer of either hybrid or omegaverse really so I’m sorry if i get stuff incorrect. This gets dark, reader kinda likes it? Sort of more Werewolf than wolf. i’m unsure of what kind of tw/cw are needed but I think i covered it.

“Let’s play wolves,” Chan’s eyes flash amber. Smiling, but not. It’s not Chan’s smile. He stalks closer. “Chan?” Fight, fawn, or freeze and your body has elected the latter of the options. Standing still as he circles around you “C’mon, let’s play wolves. Like we used to.” “C-Christopher. You’re scaring me.” Pulse rushing loudly between your ears it’s hard to think. Full animal instincts kicking in. He presses his wide chest to yours, lips to the outer shell of your ear.

“Run little wolf.”

It had started when you were young. Pretend games you’d play with the neighborhood kids, wholly innocent. The first game was “three little pigs” where the “big bad wolf” would stalk the playground, trying to stop the “pigs” from getting to their “houses” but as the neighborhood grew so did the game. Now you were rival wolf packs, able to act together in teams, almost a large scale tackle football game without the ball. You were kids pretending to be wolves, you were rough with each other. It was all in the name of pretend.

This did not feel like pretend.

It was a split second, calves tensing beneath you and jolting your body forward into a full sprint in no particular direction. Not until you are well into the woods at the edge of the neighborhood park do you realize just how utterly fucked you are. It was your fault. Of course it was your fault. You’d pushed Chan to come out with you to the old playground to kick back a couple drinks and reminisce. You’d seen how antsy he was, unable to say no to your insistent pleas. You’d even kept him out an hour passed when he said he’d need to be back for unnamed “prior engagements”. How stupid could you have been.

There’d always been something different about Chan and his family. Unnaturally beautiful, unnaturally charismatic, natural leaders. Chan was one of the few neighborhood boys that stuck it out with the girls during the great puberty divide. Never falling victim to “girls have cooties.” Always ready with a small bit of chocolate to satisfy sudden craving. The girls of the neighborhood loved his gentle and understanding nature. Good at playing both cute younger brother and doting elder.

From behind the large tree you’d concealed yourself with your hearing strained. Sense of sight dulled by the lack of light every other sense was sent into overdrive. But why were you running from him? It was just Chan, just Chan playing around. You repeat it over and over trying to make yourself believe it. It’s just Chan. The sound of a twig snapping sends you into high alert, spine stiffening. If it was just Chan why are you reacting like this? He’s going to laugh at how good he’d gotten you.

Another twig snaps. Your nails dig into the rough bark of the tree.

This was ridiculous. You felt ridiculous. Just turn around and head back out the way you came. There’s a telltale tickle to the back of your spine, some vestigial nerve that tells you he’s almost on you. Holding your breath you hear more snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves. You crouch in place. Fight, fawn, or freeze. The noise of the woods stops suddenly. Silence. You can hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears. Silence. You stand up slowly and place your back against the tree and that’s when you seem them. Two flashes of amber in the dark. Fight, fawn, or freeze.

Your breath catches in your chest. He’s terrifying. Perked pointy ears sprouting from his head, muscles swollen and hulking, eyes flashing in the full moon light. He’s not Chan. You’re not even sure he’s Christopher. You're not sure what he is. Your caught breath is forced into a shrill scream as a sudden force nails your back in place. “Caught you little wolf.” Chan’s hands grip your shoulders, pushing them You bare your teeth at him and growl. “Fine Chan, if you want to play wolves, I’ll play wolves.” you think. And then you latch your arms around his elbow and drop your weight to escape his caging.

The last time you played wolves it was an equal match. Chan had lost his baby fat but not yet built the muscle has now. You’d had time to adjust to your changed body but lost the androgyny of your younger self. It started as many wolves games did, playful threatening to kiss the other person. Harmless, neither of you actually intended on kissing the other, just saying things to get under the skin of the other person until they snapped. The game ended with the two of you out of breath, grass ground into your jeans and bodies in a tangled exhausted knot. You’d known the game had changed but you weren’t sure how.

Chan caught your escape move in a backhug, pinning your arms at your sides. It’s stronger than a hug, almost suffocating. Legs kicking and thrashing you try to free yourself. Teeth biting into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, you moan and go limp. Pain and then pleasure sweeps over your body in a second. Both you and Chan sink to your knees, still connected by his bite, onto the forest floor. One thick arm shifts upwards, hand palming your breast and kneading. The other shifts downwards to your waistband, fingers deftly slipping beneath. It's difficult to even think of fighting as your body relinquishes its weight into his chest with a sigh.

“If you’re giving up, little wolf, I get to claim you,” he sounds happy yet it comes out menacing, hands still working in tandem. Your head lolls back to his shoulder in sharp contrast to your body tensing and pulsing and squirming. Something in the bite, you tell yourself, you convince yourself, something in the bite. You must be bleeding out from the bite. The forest blurs. The bite was so-

“You smell, so good my little wolf,” he mutters as he rubs his face against your collarbone. “Now that we are out here, now that you smell like you…” he trails off into a growl. “Now that you smell like my mate.”

“Mate. His little pretty wolf,” you think dumbly, Eyes slide back in your skull as waves of pheromones roll off of Chan and crash into you. You jolt back into your mind. No. Not mate. Not his mate. Whatever he means by mate.

He licks the unmawled side of your neck, taking the flesh between his teeth and leaving a small imprint. Mate. You say the word over and over in your head at varying tempos, enthralled as he marks up and down your shoulder and neck. The repetition of the word nearly hypnotizes you. Chan’s hand works its way under and up your shirt and bra, thumb passing over your pebbled nipple. The insistent press of his hardened cock reminding you suddenly of the reality of the situation. “Chan, we’re too old to play wolves anymore,” you murmur in his ear.

“I was never playing wolves.” He nearly roars as he shoves you over face into the dirt, a total shift from mear millisecond before. The fabric of your shirt bunched tight in his fist, pressing into the small of your back and forcing you into an exaggerated arch you are all but pinned beneath him.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes. He’s not Chan, he’s not your Channie. He’s not the kind boy who’d venture bravely into the drugstore when it was nearing that time of the month. He’s not even the gentle man who insisted on obeying curfew. He’s an animal. You feel his fingers dig into your lower back around your pants waistband. With a swift yank he pulls both your pants and panties down to your knees as though it were nothing. Two rough fingers rub up and down your slit, teasing your entrance. Despite your tears you are embarrassingly horny. Desperately horny. Your pussy is practically dripping on him.

“No more fight ok?” He dips into you slowly. “No more fight or it will hurt.”

You nod. Just his fingers fill you well. Your body betrays you as it fucks back at every thrust of his digits into your cunt. Lewd squelching sounds fill the air, taunting him. If he wasn’t obsessed before he was now. Obsessed with your glistening folds, wet and pretty just for him. Releasing your shirt he wraps the same arm around your waist, hoisting you into his lap. From this angle he adjusts his arm to better pound into you using each part of his magnificent arms.

“My mate, my little wolf,” he’s whispering again, two fingers deep in your slick pussy. “Feel better?” He plunges into you, over and over. “Feel better to be a good little mate?”

Pulse elevated and blood rushing from your brain to your cunt it’s too much to think. He’s right. It is easier. Chan senses your orgasm coming before you do. Heartbeat accelerating, breathing shallow and quick, blood pressure dipping. He can feel all of it. Immediately as you peak he slows down, riding you through it, digits stroking your inner walls slowly and persistently as they clench and pulse around him, dripping down onto his hand. Entire body relaxed and draped over his lap, you’re on a far away planet. You want to kiss him. You want him to hold you. He doesn’t. You moan as he slides his fingers from you, licking them clean with small accented pops.

He grunts. Another animal instinct.

Both palms pressing into your ass cheeks he spreads you, night air cool to your overheated body. Face disappearing you feel a wet wriggling intrusion at your exposed holes. Tongue licking messy fat stripes up your slit to your ass Chan eats as though your cunt was his favorite flavor of ice cream, greedily sucking and slurping. Fucking his tongue into your little hole he makes your legs shake and knees wobble in protest of the overstimulation. You want to cum again, christ you want to but it hurts. It’s too soon. Abdomen burning and tensing as his lips wrap around your clit, you need it and want it but it just hurts so much.

Fat shameful tears roll down your cheeks, the pain feels good. A dark part of you needs him. You need him to claim you. Another orgasm squeezes out of you, sobbing, walls clenching around nothing. He laughs, a short puff of air coming in contact with your oversensitive nub, making you squirm. “Breed?” He affectionately pats your pussy. As though he was planning on giving you a choice. “Please,” you whimper softly. Even to your ears you sound so desperate it makes you want to hide, curled in a tiny ball.

Dropped into the dirt of the forest you hear him unzip and pull his pants down before grabbing your waist and lifting you, manhandling you, up and against the tree. Standing back to shuck your pants fully off you can finally appreciate him. Every inch of his body is tense, muscles fully activated. Fat cock head glistening with precum, his shaft is equally frighteningly thick, only more noticeable by comparison as it prods your stomach.

“Will it fit,” you ask breathlessly as he hitches one of your legs over his hip, squishing you together, dick rubbing between your pelvises. “Hastto,” he mumbles into your collarbone. “Yermymate.”

He’s positively pussy drunk as he slides his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in you before aligning with your entrance. Teasing your swollen lips his tip barely pushes past the ring of pelvic floor muscles, it’s so tight It burns. The slide downwards is slow and stead as gravity works with his strained rocking to spear you on him. Your eyes squeeze shut and you brace your arms over his shoulders, pressing up and away from the source of pain.

Chan’s heart hurts hearing your small whines. He wants to be kind, the human part of him deep down wants him to be gentle and slow and have properly trained you, prepared you for this eventuality. Calm. The wolf needs to be calm if he wants this, if he wants you like Chan wants you. The wolf wants to grab your waist and pull you down onto him. That part of him knows the pain is temporary, necessary even. But it waits by the wish of the man who shares this body.

“Hurt?” Chan nuzzles the tear stains on your cheek. His nails grip the bark of the tree. “A lot!” the words bubble up into a yelp, your standing leg shaking, foot on its tiptoes. He withdraws and you go limp, panting. “Ground,” simple and gruff, but you do it.

Hands and knees in the grass and leaves and dirt you feel him crawl between your waiting thighs. He plunges forward with a grunt to the same depth as before. You groan and falter forward onto your elbows. Fabric of his shirt pulled up between his lips he watches his hips gently rock the two of you back and forth, each small thrust pushing him slowly further into your tight warm cunt. Pussy lips tightly stretched around him the blood from his body rushes down, engorging his already rock hard erection. The worst is yet to come for you, the human in him knows this to be the case, but the wolf is ecstatic.

Writhing and whining you know his cock isn’t even half in you and it’s splitting you open. You’d had a few partners but none with as impressive of girth as his. His palm rubbing your sacrum to calm you he inched forward, “good mate. Taking me so well. I know my little wolf I know,” his chest swells with pride as he watches your pussy straining to accommodate him. “Good mate, only little more.”

The stretch is painful but addictive, dosing out little jolts of pleasure as you rock back onto him. Something deep within you, a small part that evolution forgot to remove, knows that as painful as it is, the sooner he can be fully seated in you the sooner the pain can be soothed and overwritten. Chan leans over and kisses between your shoulder blades. A small gesture of comfort. Still somehow inhuman. It’s only when he is this close that you hear his small yips and grumbly growls under his breath. You want him to stay there. You want to hear him. You want him close. Arm shaking and stretched behind you, you try to grab onto whatever you can of him. Taut muscles push back at your fingers, his thigh. A mistake. A huge mistake.

The wolf seizes him.

He howls.

In one swift motion he wraps his arms under your shoulders and pulls you back onto him. You gasp as the wind is knocked out of you. It burns. You’re so full. You can’t get any more full. His cock fills any space left inside of you. Your walls spasm around him trying to adjust to the intrusion. If he hadn’t held you your face would certainly be resting in the mud again. Legs fighting and scrambling, too weak to be of any use, you scream. Barely giving you time to adjust he pulls you off and slams you back down again. Slow, steady and bruising. Noises get knocked out of you, noises you’ve never heard yourself make. Sensory input on overload your mind fuzzes, giving yourself over. Chan pulls you up like a ragdoll, head lolling back onto his shoulder, still kneeling in the dirt.

“Good. Mate.” he punctuates his thrusts. “Pretty. Mate.” He puts his hand below your belly button, cradling you. A groan rumbles in his throat feeling the bulging imprint of the head of his cock forcing your stomach to distend. “Gonna look so good and round. Perfect for pups. My pups. My mate.” “Full. Channie please. Too full.” “You can take it.” He is stupidly earnest in his proclamation. His fiercess has drained slightly, transformed into excitement and bliss. Hips slowing back into a gentle rocking of their own accord he nuzzles and licks the bruised mark on your shoulder. Lost to the feeling he barely notices the half moon indents that litter his skin. Your jaw unhinged and tongue inviting he presses two fingers against your tongue, wetting them with your spit before taking them to circle your throbbing clit. A man focused and dedicated he quickly works you up, legs shaking and chest heaving. “Tha’s’it. Greedy pussy- suckin’ me in. “M-m-m-more-” you shudder.

Having properly turned your legs into useless appendages you’re silently glad Chan seems happy enough to handle you like a human fleshlight. Vision blurred, ears filled with the rushing of your heartbeat, with every strangled gasp you try to gain hold of your senses, lost to the luxury of submission. Bodily fluids trickle down and mix into the earth mixing and mudding up your skin. Your walls clench around him, trying their best to force the cum from him but coming up with nothing. He keeps going, harder although it seems impossible. Suddenly you’re glad for the cover of the forest, your screams and grunts echoing into the tree cover. You could never, not even with the thickest soundproofing, be this primal anywhere near human societies. Not without the cops being called or an angry note from a neighbor.

Between the raucous moans your body warns you of a new presence, rubbing at your entrance. Looking between your legs in horror you see a red swelling at the base of his dick attempting to squish itself into your abused hole. “What is that?” You scream as he pumps. “Channie. Chan. Chris? CHRISTOPHER?” Your voice grows shrill with panic as the section of swollen cock pushes more and more insistently, catching on your pelvic floor. “Mate,” he snarls. “Gonna mate. Got to mate. Knot you so deep. Won’t run. Can’t.” Hocking a glob of spit at the base of his cock onto the knot he wastes no time as you babble incoherently. Teeth sinking back into the previous bite the pain pacifices you, leaving you limp in his arms as he jams the knot past the tight ring of muscle and bone. Pressure blocking your ears, your vocal chords are too tense to make a sound as your mouth hangs in a silent scream, both you and Chan flattening into the brush.You tip at the edge of consciousness, bright white pain searing in your gut. The slow drag of his knot past your gspot muddles the agony with ecstasy, body releasing around him almost as if to better lubricate and ease it in. A sick sense of pride blooms in your chest. Distended with his seed, it’s over. It’s fucking over. As he tenderly licks the wound at your shoulder you sigh. The ground is warm, the ground is where you’ll sleep. Chan is still hunched over you, panting, wolfish ears flattening back down. Cock still pulsing into your walls, knot snug to your cervix. His kisses litter the shell of your ear, your neck, your shoulders. Small apologetic pecks as he rolls you to your side.

“I’m - I didn’t mean to tell you this way,” overwhelming guilt settles in Chan’s brain, replacing the wolf that curls to rest at the back of his mind, happily swaddled. “I didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t- it didn’t- fuck.”

“I’m cold.”

“I can’t-we can’t move too much but-” Chan wrapped himself over you, guarding you from the air. He’s warm and heavy and sticky and he smells earthy but somehow all of this is comforting. This is Chan. “How long like this?” You mumble sleepily. “Maybe 30, or 40 minutes? I’m…” he drifts off again. Stomach expanding and contracting you can feel his heavy sigh. “Words can’t describe. I can’t- I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you about me, about my family, about my pack. It feels stupid now. I’m sure you can guess. I tried to use the wolf for good but sometimes. I shouldn’t have agreed-” “Chan shut up.”

“Right.”

In silence you kiss his skin where you can reach. Draped over you as he is. Words are not for tonight. Not for the half wolf breathing into your hair. Not until you are long cleaned up and toweled off. Not until you are out of the woods. No more games. No more pretend. Just you and him.

#bang chan smut #bang chan x fem!reader #chan smut #chan skz smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #wolf!chan smut #february filth fest

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