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thedreadvampy · 5 months

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My housemate is moving out in January

She told us this a week or two ago, when she sat down and, after sitting with us watching TV for over an hour, said "hey so I bought a house and I'm moving out. We agreed on 2 months notice so I won't move until the end of January."

The last time she talked in the immediate terms about buying a house was in 2021, when the sale she was working on fell though and she was unemployed so it was a "when I'm back in a position to look I'll start looking again." Since then I've occasionally asked her how she's doing on the house buying front and she's been like "oh I'm getting there financially" but hasn't mentioned anything concrete.

She didn't tell us she was looking at places. She didn't tell us she had put in an offer. She told us when the offer was finalised. A week AFTER she emailed the letting agent about getting out of her part of the lease. And, it increasingly feels like, only because the letting agent's response was that we had to agree to change the lease.

The letting agent's response (which our housemate obviously didn't copy us into; we had to follow up separately and they copied us into the email chain) also includes that when we change the lease, they're empowered to change the rent, quote, "no cap". Rent was already going up in January - there's no possibility of Sam and I paying her share of the rent.

The really fucking upsetting thing is we're not strangers. This isn't a casual "housemate we found on flatshare" thing. She and Sam have lived together literally their entire adult lives. Me and her have known each other well over a decade. I lived in her and Sam's flat when I was homeless. We were the first people she came out to as trans. We're not super close but I thought we were fucking friends. And she's literally gone out of her way to not talk to us about this for what must have been months while the sale completed - which means she's lied to my face at least once cause I've asked her about her finances in that time (cause she's in a job she hates that she only took to get the house money, so it's like. when we've been commiserating about work stuff I'm often asking 'are you almost free?'). she literally went out of her way to talk to the letting agents before talking to us about putting us in a situation where we could lose our fucking home.

And she keeps. trying. to pretend nothing's happened. Every time I've seen her since then she's not mentioned anything or apologised or anything, she just keeps chatting away and offering hugs and fistbumps like nothing's happened. Like we're still fucking friends.

All it would take for us to still be friends and to be happy for her would have been one fucking sentence in the groupchat like "hey, just put an offer in on a house" or "I'm looking at properties, just so you know, that might happen in the next few months". Like nobody begrudges her for buying a house! It's very cool for her! She's 31 she's worked really hard to get the money I would love to be happy for her! Unfortunately she decided avoiding conflict is more important than giving the people she fucking LIVES WITH (who btw fronted her a month on the rent here while she was unemployed and agreed to take on a larger proportion of the move-in cost back in 2021, if we're still holding ourselves to shit we said 2.5 years ago), so no, you are not entitled to our friendship or to going back to normal.

like if she'd been honest with us it would have been something to process but we'd have had time to figure out our next steps. instead she's left us in a position where we have to find a new roommate before she gives her one month notice, which means finding someone by the end of December, which oh look that's the middle of the fucking Christmas holidays. and she didn't tell us anything until the START of December, or copy us into her conversation with the letting agent, meaning we still don't know what the rent on that space will be so we aren't yet in a position to advertise it. Has she offered to help find a roommate? Has she fuck. Has she offered to help out by moving her move-out date? Nah, she's moving as soon as she gets the keys because, quote, "that means her finances won't have to change". SOUNDS LOVELY. NOT HAVING YOUR FINANCES SUDDENLY CHANGE. I THINK THAT SOUNDS LIKE A REALLY REASONABLE FUCKING GOAL.

Thirteen fucking years she's lived with Sam. Four fucking weeks over Christmas she's left us to figure out a way to not turbofuck our living situation. And she's got the fucking nerve to try and pretend we should be interacting like nothing's changed. Jesus Christ. What a fucking unhinged way to treat...anybody, honestly. never mind the friends-your-entire-adult-life part. literally cannot imagine a scenario in which I would buy a house without telling the people I lived with.

(haha actually this is what my parents divorced over so apparently it's not unusual. although at least my dad had the decency to tell the woman he shared finances with at the point he put in an offer not the point the fucking sale went through.)

Like we'll be fine. It's a huge city centre flat with decent rent and queer housemates, hopefully even when the rent goes up it'll be an easy sell in a city with a huge housing shortage and big queer community. We've got a couple of people interested already, sight unseen - worst case scenario we have to live with someone we don't get on with. And it's given Sam and me a push to look at our own finances and as of today, we've got a mortgage decision in principle and can start looking at flats in the area - mind, we'll be transparent upfront and tell any prospective housemates that yeah, we're looking to buy and move out in the next 6-12 months, and we'll tell them if we put an offer in, because we're decent fucking people who aren't going to spring that on someone out of the blue.

But it's been I think 2 weeks and I'm so fucking angry I could spit. It's such a fucking betrayal. And frankly you know selfishly like. I just had a breakup a couple of months ago, I'm in the middle of moving jobs, both me and Sam have a history of housing instability and this has been the first decent, stable, safe, not-mouldy not-freezing home I think any of us have had, and this is so fucking triggering and upscuttling I could just start biting. like I was talking to my friend about it last week and it's just like. Can I have One Fucking Thing of the three main tentpoles of survival - home, work, relationships - that are fucking stable right now? because shit has been In Flux lately. and at least the work and relationship stuff has changed because of my decisions. going through all that work to make myself short-term unstable to gain long-term stability has been really hard and draining and then just as I was reaching the crisis point with work stuff BOOM, IT'S HOUSING INSTABILITY WITH A STEEL CHAIR. fuck. seriously fuck this and fuck her. we're going to make something good come of it but what a deeply, unbelievably shitty thing to do.

#red said #the other thing that bugs me about it is. ok and again this is old shit dredged back to 2021 when we moved in together #but i had my housemate. and Sam had her. and each of us were really close pairs who'd lived together a long time #and we tried looking for flats as a four but a) a flat with 4 good sized bedrooms in Edinburgh is hens teeth #and b) my housemate was pretty happy to live with me and Sam but increasingly felt like a 4 man flat was going to be a lot for him #and so in the end we talked about it. and through a combination of that and same housemate being in a pretty #unfavorable position housing wise. cause she was unemployed and had shit credit at that moment.#we agreed she'd move with us and Joe went and found a one bed #and in the end that's been really great for him tbh he's a lot happier and more confident and we were pretty sick of each other by then #and so we get on much better now #but at the time it was a real heartache i felt like I'd let Joe down i felt like our friendship was over #and honestly I have never been a huge fan of living with our current housemate. even before we lived here #like when i was staying with her and Sam too. she's incredibly messy and takes up a lot of space in conversations #I've always liked her as a person but she's exhausting and often unpleasant to share space with #and there's a bit of me that's like. we bent over backwards to accommodate you when you were precarious.#like it would have been WAY easier for us to look for a 2-bed during 2021. and if it was a 3-bed I'd have rather stayed with Joe.#but we moved with her for her sake. and she left Sam to clean up their old place (and there were Literal Rats)#and she got really pissy about driving the moving van even though a) that was her idea and b) she's the only person with a license #and c) i walked all MY shit over by hand anyway and the only reason she hired the van was to move her tv #me and Sam found all the core furniture. me and Sam sorted out all the viewings. me and Sam did all the planning. Sam set up all the bills.#we spotted her for rent!we took a bigger share of the costs! because we fucking cared about her and wanted her to have a fucking home!#and she can't even do us the courtesy you'd offer a fucking lodger you found on fucking gumtree

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dennisboobs · 7 months

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do you guys ever sit and remember that dennis takes a mental health day is an episode that exists

#ada speaks #i think i could probably recite the entire one sided phone conversation he has with daisy by heart and i havent seen the ep in months #i don't know how to explain it but #from what little ive read of ross' writing it feels like. when you click onto a fanfic and you feel immediate deep trust of the author #like it just clicks #the cookbook characterization specifically. is like.#i would put my life in your hands #and im sure we will get more eps by him and i really hope that continues because i think its been a very long time since the shows had #writers that i feel Get the characters in a way that feels effortless rather than. overcompensating.#like you can smell that writer's signature no matter how hard they try to cover it up with jokes and subversions #which isnt always a bad thing and im sure if we do get more maloney eps i'll pick up on his writers quirks too #but it doesn't feel like he's trying to copy anyone/pull from old eps it feels like he has a good grasp on things which makes it feel fresh #i find that long running shows hit a point where episodes start to feel less cohesive and more like. segmented short films #but if you have a really good group of writers and they find their groove its like. yeah. ok.#i think season 3 is a good study because marder and rosell's influence is all over the entire season #later seasons you can literally just. Feel which eps they worked on because its got a completely different vibe from the rest of the season #16 still suffers from that segmentation but #i think all the first time sunny writers (and nina's first solo ep) were all absolutely fuckin bangers and they've got a good team in there #anyway. characterization of dennis flipflops a lot. but the rest of the gang arguably gets it worse at times #i think megan's dee is the absolute worst aside from conor galvin's #and i understand wanting to write her as a girlfailure who is just. horrible. but.#ok. comparing self help book dee to ross' cookbook dee. i dont even have to say anything do i.#she's like. The Woman. in the self help book. and i fucking could not stand it. ross' dee is so perfect though #and his frank. MAN.#EVERYONE FUCKING RUINS FRANK.#i think marder and rosell's frank is a lot of fun because hes clearly based on marder's dad and acts believably #a lot of writers struggle to capture his. frank-ness.#he's sort of suffered from like. bland pervy senile old man writing for a long time #and ross brought back him actually being a competent businessman #IM OUT OF TAGS IM SHUTTING UP

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eternal-reverie · 1 month

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Something in the back of my mind has been bothering me for a long while, and I figured out what it was. I have this tendency of censoring myself when I speak? I dance around a subject, which I keep hinting at, but never explicitly say what I want to say, and when someone doesn’t pick up on that, I get disappointed when they don’t help me open up to the topic.

#the disappointment deepens and I guess the fear of truly opening up of showing my self flaws and all is scary #in short I’m scared to have an opinion!!!#also when people ask me what I’m into reading to watching oh man I feel the pressure to pitch it and possibly defend it #and instead I just vaguely share what it’s about for the sake of not spoiling the experience #then the envy I feel when other ppl share wholeheartedly what they love and take their time with it explaining #and they explain it so clearly and I wish I could do that #click clack #the problem was so vague it’s taken me awhile to discern #I’m guessing this all stems from being made fun of or dismissed for my interests 😔#a long time ago but the effects still linger #the fear of being perceived is all wrapped in me #I do the same thing here. it bleeds to all the ways of socializing this day and age #I wish I were one of those ppl who have a more lively social life online and talking to ppl regularly #but my first instinct to a message is to close the notification and leave it for later because it’s so intimidating!!!#it feels like I have to perform an image that’s guaranteed to be liked rather than just be me authentically #ok I got to the crux phewwww uhhh lol got all my vulnerabilities out in the middle of the night

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darabeatha · 4 months

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/ I say I do not like lb6 yet I have 4 characters that appear in it as muses

#;ooc #ooc #;delete later #OK NO BUT LIKE; THIS ISNT A 'i hate 'x' thing' :hangs up posters about it: MEME SITUATION #i genuinely think it was sooooo long and i understood less than half of it #i was BORED it was TEDIOUS #i legit only got to understand some characters through research separatedly bc i just couldnt get them??#maybe its my poor comprehension skills but #(and also the fact i think c.astoria is overrated) BUT ANYWAYS-#LIKE;; the idea on itself is not bad when u summarize it;; its just that it was #constantly packed with 554957458 specific lore things that u had to keep in mind for the story while being covered in fillery dialogue #+ extend it for a lot of chapters #so its also like; u cant really skip things bc u never know when they'll drop some foreshadowing or important thing to remember for later #-on in the story #and if u ask me; yes all lb's have fillery stuff but i dunno; i felt this one particularly stacked with other stuff #that just contributed in not making it that enjoyable for me to read #also my rather poor memory and short attention span could have contributed on it #i tend to :try: to look objectively at stuff but allow me to give my personal thoughts on it once (1)#/for my muts who arent into f.ate; lb means lostbelt and its basically like;; part of the story (?)#dont ask me about strict lore stuff im the least qualified for that like wtf is even going on anymore OITUROUITH

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infizero · 8 months

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light and misa's "relationship" is rlly tragic and fucked but also in an isolated state its really fucking funny. ESPECIALLY if you consider them both to be arospec like i do

#misa is like ''oh light my wonderful boyfriend~!! we need to go on a date we haven't been on one in so long!''#(i know that when you're dating you're supposed to go on dates. so we have to go on a date every so often to assure me that i'm getting a #good grade in Having a Boyfriend something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve)#and then light is like (internally) 'i would literally rather kill myself than spend time with her but i need her for my purposes so i have #to appease her' (externally) ''ok sure i guess misa''#and then they go to a restaurant and misa waits for him to kiss her the whole night (she does not attempt to herself)#meanwhile light just sits there and goes nonverbal for long extended periods of time while he monologues in his head about how to appear #like a normal (straight) human being (spoiler: he's really bad at this)#and every so often he'll be like ''you look nice. this food is good. other boring pleasantries'' while glaring as if he's poisoned her food #THEY LIVED LIKE THIS FOR 4 YEARS.#again. awful. but also kind of fucking funny. gay aroace guy and aroace girl going through the motions of a heterosexual relationship for 4 #whole years. they hate each other for sure dawg ToT obvs misa to a lesser extent but i think she definitely had a lot subconscious hate for #light. that only got stronger the longer things went on #also during this time they definitely had sex a Single Time because they got to a point where misa was like we've been dating for like #2 years normal couples usually sleep together way before then...... and light was like. LOUD SIGH. ok #it was terrible. neither of them enjoyed it and they never spoke of it again #gee wonder why that was (holding the ace spectrum behind my back)#anyways they're so awful im obsessed w them. awful apart and even WORSE together. it's beautiful #then you throw L in this mix and it gets even funnier and MORE awful #(he's bi aroace to me btw. for the record)#serena.txt #death note posting

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kissmehardy · 9 months

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New law that anyone who works in an office cant have an opinion on my job because they fundamentally cant understand what im doing

#sorry if youre proud about sacrificing your dreams for a paycheck you cant tell me what im not doing isnt worth it bc its in your opinion a #poor roi #like fucking maybe but also maybe not everyone needs to sell their soul maybe youre just bitter that you are #stuck in middle management business hell #oh you got a job? *pulls out calculator* doesnt look like it will be worth it in the long run though #like fuck off youre the one getting an online business phd asshole #stop tell me to work in hr stop it stop it stop it stop it #stop telling me to get a sales job fucking stop i mean it when i say i will kill myself first #god why is everyone on earth so business pilled there are more life paths out there i promise i PROMISE #maybe you wont make 100k a year but fuck you might be free #sorry i would rather travel the country and excavate human remains?? walk through the woods the mountains the swamps?!#do something meaningful like preserve archaeological resources and not make a ceo money?? you have one life and you look down on me for not #dedicating mine to making a ceo money????#sorry i would rather enjoy my job and life??#i dont fucking understand why when i hit 25 suddenly EVERYONE is like ok but youre too old for dreams time to work in hr #fucking excuse me?? so the plan is tell kids to undergrads to follow their dreams and as they obtain them tell them that was stupid are you #kidding me??#im fucking losing my mind i fucking hate you all just bc its not a nine to five doesnt mean its not viable #in fact its MORE viable i got the first fucking job i applied to!!! how many fucking people get the first hr job they apply to jesus christ #no i will actually go into data analysis and get 300 rejections bc i have zero background in it good fucking plan #yall im so mad #pulling out a calculator immediately to tell me my choice is bad fuck off

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crunchycrystals · 1 year

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while im procrastinating on my homework im just gonna say im gonna be kind of very mad if that mv she's filming is actually for a midnights track lol i like the theory that its for long live though i think that would really fit if the vid is actually about taking back her work

#crunchyposts #ts #genuinely idk why im getting worked up over the idea that its not for a tv #if im wrong and its not a tv ill genuinely be mad #idk how mad but ill be mad a little bit lol #maybe bc im not super into karma and vigilante shit which are peoples main ideas for what it could be??????#but yeah. i also really like the idea its a way to reframe better than revenge with the revenge being the rerecordings themselves #HONESTLY NOW THAT IVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT A BIT MORE. I THINK IT MIGHT BE BC IF ITS JUST MORE FUCKING SPEAK NOW TV EASTER EGGS IM GONNA GO INS #INSANE #I RAN OUT OF TAG SPACE #LIKE WE ALREADY GOT THE GODDAMN. BEJEWELED MV WE ALL KNOW WHATS COMING NEXT (EXCEPT FOR ONE PERSON I SAW WHO SAID THERE WERE A TON OF 1989 #EASTER EGGS IN THAT VID???????? DID WE WATCH THE SAME VID) AND IF ITS JUST MORE “OOOOH HINTS” IM GONNA FLIP A TABLE #SORRY i just want speak now tv #like we've known for months its the next one coming based on bejeweled. also i think the copyright stuff is being cleared up rn #we dont need more easter eggs!!!!!!! please dear lord just give us a date like red tv i dont care how far away it is its fine #ok. ive calmed down. idk what happened to me there. the worst part is really knowing that somethings coming but not knowing when #i think i am More Fine with speak now easter eggs but. still id really prefer more callbacks rather than hints its driving me up the wall #bejeweled was so clear!!!!!!! enchanted and long live in the background and the koi and the elevator and the dragons #and then nothing happened for months and we were just left in the dark!!!!!!!!

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philomelia · 2 years

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( * @parlaey said: be careful what company you keep ).

cassandra’s gaze shines: she smiles at him like they share a secret, which they might (she doesn’t know if he’s ever seen her face before, another child running rampant in a palace that greeted her with only dangers ... if he has ever seen her before, it was when she was a fang - ridden child, gloating smiles covering up a weakness that was unholy). when she had last seen him, he wore a crown of honey and endured a father’s scorn. but a prince was easy to remember: she was as forgettable as the summer’s winds. she twists around the tiny shop, resting against the table, glancing down at the seafarer. she calls this place a grisha palace and poor idiots stumble into witness a modicum of power, no matter how fabricated. people want to be fooled so desperately. ‘‘ that could, really, be about anyone, couldn’t it? i’d welcome a little more specificity: the horrible stains of ketterdamn? they’re more bark than bite. well, they’re a little bite, but i’m smart enough to not have anything worth stealing. or do you mean a different company? one bound by blood? ’’

#parlaey #ok so super quick run down of gv things #i love a good grotesque womanhood arc so #my initial thoughts would be that she is the only daughter from a powerful line who was born #without grisha powers (or with otherwise grisha powers so weak that they are essentially useless)#i think her family would have been rather staunch believers in the darkling #which makes it so cassandra feels rather pushed out from her own family #and eventually leaves the little palace to work in ketterdamn #from here i think she fashions an identity in which she impersonates grisha power for audiences #she's so funny she's like who cares if im not grisha i can do what i want (makes wind)#i think she's a very talented engineer but she works closely with people so she's never quite alone in it #this got so long my god i'll have to write this up officially one day

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cinnabeat · 2 months

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still thinking abt fairy tail like idk if i can actually articulte why i wouldnt recommend it to anyone despite liking it so much? like its a generic shounen story but i did in fact enjoy it (until the end but thats like a staple to the genre at this point i think) but gun to my head i wouldnt be able to tell you what abt it i would change to make it better

#i am admittedly not a very creative person in the first place #i think as like a starter anime its a good one to like ease you into it? bc again its very generic and also no one dies lmao and its not par #particulrly deep and is like the face of the power of friendship solving all your problems #i guess maybe more worldbuilding?? which is insane consider how much worldbuilding there is?#or like #maybe expanded worldbuilding #a more interconnected storyline mayhaps bc everything kinda happens in blocks #like having very visible indicators between arcs isnt bad but again they barely flow #its plot moved rather than character moved #so perhaps more character moved #i think what it is is that its all very BLAND and generic #but it was like one of the first animes i watched so it has a very special place in my heart #and also the more i find out abt op the more im like oh yeah this is so obviously influenced by it 💀#i think ft problem is that it was obvs made to be long running #so new plots were conceived to just elongate the overarching story #is the impression i get which is possibly why it feels so unconnected #its like ok this thing happened now moving on to another thing and its just like that all the time #wish the character relationships got fleshed out more :(#wish LUCY FUCKING HEARTFILIA got to have more chances to shine god damn #*clenched fist* i will NOT rewatch ft i wont i refuse #michi tag

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arolesbianism · 4 months

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Y'know I was thinking abt how I like to bully alone dupes in oni when they enter the socializing state alone but then I realized... When they're socializing they go to the printing pod. They're talking with their deadbeat mom that's so cute 🥺

#rat rambles #ok ok calling her a deadbeat mom may be a bit harsh but its not completely untrue imo dhdkhd #anyways I didnt make a lot of progress today in my main oni playthrough but I finally got a couple that Ive been kinda avoiding getting #aka ari and joshua because I like to hate on them for no reason #I also got a nails today so yippee #Im almost good to go with jorge I just need to wait out the timer basically #I've actually already gotten some decent food production going so I might try to commit to this colony instead of dipping like I planned #I will be sending quinn back home tho they deserve to see their friends again #in the meantime I got party phones set up in the newer two colonies so everyone can call eachother now :]#Im still not exactly sure how Im going to fit like 20 more dupes but Ill figure smth out #I should be able to fit like 5 or so dupes in the newest colony and if I play my cards right I could shove the rest into the other new one #but for that Id need to seriously upscale my oxygen production there and while I do have infinite water I do not have infinite space #but I do wanna get to my goal as fast as possible since I do not wanna think abt what would happen if I ran out of certain materials #specifically in the second newest colony were their main food source is waterweed #I should be able to manage for a while and worse comes to worse I can cheat but Id rather not have to #I could theoretically switch to mealwood if that happens but again Id rather not have to #oh also some real poggers news I found a single bristle blossom plant on the newest colony #I still need to go dig it out but that means that Ill be able to start progress on getting a more reliable food source since grup fruit #will only last so long without me taming a sulfur guyser and well Im a wuss who doesnt want my lil guys to die #oni posting

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landojpg04 · 2 months

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MDNI slight suggestive and language

Ghost definitely has a motorcycle and a truck. He'll drive the truck when he knows it'll be a long day doing intel and paperwork. But especially on a Friday when the workload is light, he’ll come in on his bike knowing he’ll be able to enjoy the ride.

He started riding the bike more when you gave the comment-

Guys who ride motorcycles are ten times more attractive with their bike

You didn’t say it to him per se but rather to a friend of yours on base, and he overheard. He likes to think that the bike is his good luck charm, as you agreed to a first date when he drove it. But despite you loving the bike as much as you loved him, he never let you on it. Always exclaiming it would be too dangerous.

He's in the garage, music playing lightly from the speaker as he cleans and messes with some of the gears. You watch in awe at the door. Never in a million years did you think you would be here. In Lt’s old t-shirt, sipping tea and watching him indulge in normalcy on a Sunday afternoon. When you transferred to the base, you always heard rumors about the man behind the mask and the name Ghost. But behind that was this man full of love.

“Enjoying the show, darling?” He said, looking up from the bike to see you.

“Just admiring.” You said.

“The bike or the rider?” He said smirking.

You admired and mirrored that smirk. Something you thought you would never see in your lifetime. But after trials of trust, the mask and guards came down, bearing all the luggage, and past to your welcoming arms.

“Both,” you said, walking over to him. He was seated on a chair and leaned back to welcome you in between his legs.

He peered up, his eyes glimmering in the sunlight that peaked through the window.

“Let me ride.” You said, peering down.

“You can ride me anytime.” He said, being cheeky.

You groaned at his antics and pouted towards him.

“Do you not trust me on your precious baby, Si?”

He looked between you and the bike. It wasn’t that he didn't trust you. He knows how dangerous riding is. He doesn’t want to let you on just in case something happens. He’s come to terms with something happening to him a long time ago. But you. He just got you and would put you in a bubble if it meant keeping you safe.

“I trust you. I just don't trust others.” He says, moving a piece of hair from your face. He moves his hand to cup your jaw. He guided you to his lips for a quick peck.

You leave your forehead on him while he moves his hands down to your hips.

He can tell you were annoyed with your answers. You guys bonded over this bike and he truly believes that being able to ride it one day was the only thing keeping you around.

That was far from the truth. You just wanted to straddle something other than Simons's dick.

He stood up and moved you to the side.

He pushed the brake down and moved to the back of the bike.

"We can start with basics. Posture and positions." He said looking at you.

Stunned by his answer and quick change in answers, you didn't move till he said, "Ok, I guess you don't want to." You feet quickly moved to stand by him.

He went through the basics, teaching you how to mount and where to keep your feet. After, it was your turn to demonstrate your understanding. You go to the side and lift a leg to straddle the seat.

Simon from the back saw how you were a natural at this. Your ass is plump on the seat you lean to hold the handles with a slight arch in your back. Simon thought to himself why he hadn't let you do this earlier. He was so caught up in how good you look he didn't even hear you ask him if what you were doing was good.

You looked over to see him in a daze. He quickly grabbed his phone and took a photo of you on his bike, clad in his boxers and old t-shirt; every inch of you screamed that you were his. And he never loved anything more than this moment right now.

He walked to the front of the bike.

"Is this alright Si?" You asked him when you finally are met with his face.

He just smiled and leaned in to kiss you.

"My gorgeous girl on my bike," He said in between kisses.

You giggled and removed your hands from the handles to his neck and shoulder.

"Get off the bike and get inside right now." He said, pulling away. Laughing, you got off and felt a slight smack hit your ass. This was definitely not your last time on his bike.

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #task force 141 #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #call of duty #cod x reader

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smutstationchoochoo · 9 months

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Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room.

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?” His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment. It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up. Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

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beautysamour · 7 months

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑: 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

— 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“Why?” Your boyfriend looked at you with a raised brow, two silicone toys in each of his hands.

You let out a shaky breath, the entire situation making it difficult for you to breath. You weren’t sure how Miguel was going to react when you brought using toys during sex—he’s always been the type to prefer using himself to make you cum, he took pride in it.

He straightens his back, “If I haven’t been making you feel good—“

“That’s not it,” you interrupt, taking one of the vibrators out of his hand, “I just thought it’d be fun to try,” suddenly you couldn’t look him in the eye, “a—and mj got it for us as a gift, it’d be rude to give it back after accepting it.”

You peek up at Miguel and find him looking at the sex toy in his hand. You hold your breath hoping that he’d—

“Alright. Are these the only ones?”

Without realizing it, your back straightens and your eyes have a sudden glow in them that was dulled by the previous nervousness, “For now, yeah.”

He chuckled at your wording, you planned on getting more?

“Great,” he sticks out his hand with the vibrator on his palm, “We can try these out after the dinner, yeah?”

Your body deflates at his words. After dinner? You can’t promise you’ll be able to wait that long, not with the other vibrator in your possession.

Well, that’s only if you stayed here.

He leans forward attempting to press a kiss on your forehead before his body falls against yours, his eyes fall down to your hand gripping onto his tie as he stops his tip with a hand against the wall.

His eyes flicker to yours seeping with confusion, “What was that for?”

You hum innocently, questioning his question.

Suddenly you release your grip on his tie, softly patting it against his chest as you smooth out the wrinkles. “You might be gone long—no—you will be gone long,” you rest your other hand on his chest, and start tracing circles with the vibrator on his left tit, “and the dinner will get rather boring pretty quickly.”

You lean up on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss against his jaw, “And the house gets lonely without you,” you press another kiss along his jaw, “And I’ll get bored—“

“Ok,” Miguel roughly breathes out, his large hands rest on your hips—the other vibrator still in his hand, “Do you want to come with me then?”

You smile. “I’d love too.”

;;

“I understand, Mr. O’Hara, but with the recent hit the industry took…”

You gripped onto Miguel’s hand as your vision went blurry, “Mig…Miguel,” you bite your tongue hoping the suppress the moan that nearly came out.

The coworker who was talking turned his head to you, “Oh, Mrs. O’Hara? Is everything alright?”

Your grip strengthened around your boyfriend’ hand as sweat started to trail down your throat and your pussy clenched around the toy.

“Mrs. O’Hara?”

You forced yourself to look up, to look at the coworker, and to speak. Your lips, both of them, trembled as they opened—a moan sitting prettily on the tip of your tongue.

“A—I—“

Your boyfriend was so sweet, so loving, and so attentive. He knew you were close, you just needed a little more, and he was more than happy to help you out. Especially when you were so obviously struggling to get any noise out of your mouth.

He played with the remote in his other hand under the table, pretending to look at you with worry in his eyes as a beautiful moan rips out your throat.

You pray that when you get up there won’t be a puddle of cum.

“Uh—uhm—Mrs. O’Hara—?”

“Pardon me,” Miguel heroically interrupts as his holds your close to his, “My wife isn’t feeling well, could you excuse us for a bit?”

“Oh—of course, yes.” The coworkers all move out of the way, making a clear path for the both of you to go through.

You cling onto him as you try to stand up, your legs tremble as you take your first step. “Miguel,” you breath out, “Ca—can we go, ah, home?”

You close your eyes, your over sensitive pussy is able to track every movement the little toy inside of you makes—it makes you pull away from Miguel, you’re body acting as it would whenever he’s in you.

Your heart breaks a little when you hear him laugh—and your legs nearly give out as the toy goes up to its next setting, “Miguel!”

He ignores your cry, maneuvering you around the tables until the bathrooms are right in front of you. He hums a tune, almost mockingly, as he opens the family bathroom, “Come on tesoro, get in.”

An almost heart wrenching whine leaves your throat as Miguel locks the door. You fall to the floor and your mouth opens, a silent moan comes out as you cum on your drenched underwear. Your back arches as the toy never stops it’s movement.

Miguel tsks as he kneels next to you, “What’s wrong cariño,” he feigns innocence, “Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Can’t,” you choke out, “Ca—can’t!”

He holds the remote out, purposely putting in the your line of sight. He twirls it around his fingers, “You said you wanted to go home? Thought you wanted to come with me, tesoro.”

You grind your pussy against the cold floor as you feel your body start to heat up.

“Miguel,” you cry, “Why are you being mean?”

You lean into his touch as his hand cups your cheek to make you look at him. He looks at you, eyes soft as he rubs your cheek.

You turn your head to press a kiss on his palm, stupidly taking this act from him as kindness.

Your head drops immediately, tighs pressing against each other as the vibrations in your pussy get more intense.

“F—fuck.”

Miguel presses a kiss to the top of your head as he watches you crumble underneath him, “Sorry tesoro, but you’re just so pretty like this.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel x you #atsv miguel

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ssahotchnerr · 2 months

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👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!

like dad does

aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3

you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.

likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.

but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.

"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."

"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"

"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"

he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.

"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"

"a meeting."

your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"

jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."

his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.

"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."

your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"

he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.

"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."

"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.

"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."

you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.

it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.

and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.

you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.

"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.

"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"

"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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