#what the fuck goes on in your head my guy. what would you consider a disaster.
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Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses
☆word count: 1.1k
☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.
They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.
“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.
“What?” he lets out.
“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.
“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”
Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”
Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.
But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.
“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”
Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”
“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”
Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?
“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.
“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”
“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”
Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.
So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.
Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.
His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.
Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.
Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone.
You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.
You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.
“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.
It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.
“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.
His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.
Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.
You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.
“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.
Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.
You are… Taehyung’s sister.
You’re Y/n.
His best friend’s little sister.
The one thing Jungkook can’t have.
It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs.
“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.
And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.
Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.
You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.
“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.
Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.
“Yes, please!”
Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.
Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.
“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”
And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.
“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.
How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted?
He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
☆☆☆☆☆
Chapter one coming on May 10th, 2024!
What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
Taglist: (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you)
@jjkluver7 | @lavender2ari | @srslythis-ismylife | @starlight-1010 | @mggv97
@cookysstuff | @02010802 | @kookieleshgo | @biaswreckersinc | @hera19
@ice | @nightapple | @jungkussyficrecs | @boyfriendtaekook | @montyfbaybee
@babystarcandyjk97 | @goldentea10 | @lovingkoalaface | @parapiop7 | @parking-lotnights
@junecat18 | @blr1004 | @buddybops | @kookssecret | @busandbby_jjk
@superchamchi88 | @goldenjeonkoo | @raraluvz | @lovelye79 | @boyswithjun
@skzthinker | @michellekosmos | @8balljk | @kooklovee | @kingofbodyrolls
@ll4l | @kissyfacekoo | @ggukiepie | @moon-gyi | @apples0-0
@jcrl99 | @iammeandmeisiam | @kookoo-kachoo | @marvelbun | @lalaren
@sugas-baby-girl | @glossminmin03 | @kocoreads | @carriereadsbooks | @aiiselle90210
@FeyOcean | @khuderutu | @stuti2904 | @ziya.exe | @shortnspicier
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@screamertannie | @wisebouquetbarbarian | @pixiekook | @nanjeonlangakook | @jcnggukie
@ggukkieland | @phanniefoo | @jksctrl | @sp1derk0ok | @hyukal0ml
@mysjammy | @lesiacapouille | @shearttttttttt | @hobibbb | @mochifuzz
@kooksbunnnn | @moonchilddna | @libra04 | @vminkookgf | @jayrielle27
@tulips4u | @jinniejax | @chimmisbae | @sumzysworld | @imene_ghd
@gguksflowers | @sadgirlroo | @kissme-ornot | @mar-lo | @kazkookiekazookie
@infiresyg93 | @junggukjeonfreakinwife | @sweet-pinee | @chimchimmarie | @pamzn
#chasing cars teaser#chasing cars#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook#jungkook fic#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk#btswritersclub#jeon jungkook#chasing cars series
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X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).
I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.
Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.
--
“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.
Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”
No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.
Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.
When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”
Morph winces.
“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”
“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”
From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”
“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”
“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”
“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”
The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”
“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”
To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.
Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.
Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.
How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?
Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.
“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.
He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.
“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”
Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.
“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”
Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”
“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”
That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.
“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”
Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.
“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”
The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.
“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”
Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”
“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”
“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.
“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”
“Who else knows?”
“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”
At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.
“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.
Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.
“I didn’t want you to know.”
Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.
“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”
He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.
Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.
“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”
Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.
He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.
Badum-tch.
Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.
Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.
Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?
“Morph. Look at me.”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.
“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”
From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.
It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.
Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.
One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.
The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?
Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.
Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.
If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.
Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.
The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.
But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.
He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”
As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.
“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”
Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…
He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.
That’s real enough for him.
#x men 97#x men#morph#wolverine#morpherine#my stuff#wait what this actually ended up good#have I actually been a good writer this whole time and just too depressed to notice?#what the fuck that's not fair
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Enemies to lovers with König and witty reader? I don't know if you also write about him so imma leave this here
Answering two anons at the same time lmao
Say my name
(König x witty! Reader)
🐥 The first time König appeared on my drafts was when I was making my last Reyes x Reader fic and um... I kind of wanted to keep doing lmao so here it is. Sorry for my broken English-
Angst/ SOCIAL ANXIETY/ slight nsfw/ open ending (if you guys want a part two and this short gets some attention)
⚠️ I still picture König as Lee Pace ⚠️
.
They say you transfered from SpecGru to KorTac because you simply wanted a change of airs. But it couldn't be that simple. Why were you so simple?
As antisocial as he seemed to be, König was well aware that a bond between teammates was needed in order to sync and function properly during missions. He wasn't the best at striking up conversations and never intended to improve on this aspect either, often trying to figure people out from the distance, he only approached them if he had questions about their character. Horangi once said it was weird but König frankly didn't care about what was socially accepted or not, he just made the effort to know his team because it was expected of him, and as great as it would be to have friends, he struggled socializing and had given up trying ages ago. König was paid to kill, not to make friends. And as far as his interactions went with his teammates, the only one who gets his game and could be considered his friend is Horangi. But you?
He had tried to investigate you, even going as far as using his position as colonel to gather as much information from your background to understand you without having to make any awkward approach. But nothing he found explained why you changed factions or why you behaved the way you did. You had a normal childhood, went to a good school, graduated being top of your class... Jesus you had a rabbit called Mr. Whiskers, even the deepest info given was borely normal. No trace of trauma or any mental disorder.
König begun studying you like a biologist would to a newfound species and got more and more invested and frustrated the more information he gathered, because he simply couldn't excuse your... Well, your everything.
He approaches you one time during morning drills, looks you up and down as you stretched, ignores the flirty comment you shot his way, because what the fuck is your problem? You don't know him. Then König proceeded to mouth the first thing he ever said to you, one of the main questions he had on his head as to why you would behave so strangely. And it goes like this: "Do you have any mental illness, hm?"
"I might have, yeah."
And you said it so casually. Do you, though? Are you being sarcastic or... God he hates you. Why can't he figure you out!? Why do you smile at him so much? Why do you flirt so much with him? Do you flirt with the others the way you do with him?
That new question made him observe your body language around others and listen carefully to any interaction you had and found nothing but your enchanting witty self. Of course you teased other members, but never so bluntly like the way you flirt with him. The colonel felt weirdly relieved at this. Maybe he liked the attention given? Scratch that, or course not!
One time after a tiring mission in Barcelona, Spain, König approached you with a bottle of water, you thanked him with a wink and he watched you swallow the whole thing before he proceeded to ask you the second question that plagued his mind: "Do you perhaps hide some secret trauma that permanently changed your behaviour, using sarcasm, smirks and jokes to protect your scared inner child in order to not get hurt again?"
"Hmmm... The day I found out my mother was Santa Claus I went bananas, but I wouldn't say it scarred me for life. Do ya want an M&M, colonel?"
He fucking hates you. He hates you. König aggressively snatched a handful of M&M's and stormed away. That night he swore he could hear your laugh echoing inside his head. Why couldn't you leave his fucking mind? What was it with you? Were you doing it on purpose?
_____
You were definitely doing it on purpose.
You have to be patient with König. But he was so hilarious and scary, it thrilled you to watch the two meter tall behemoth of a man walk near you and sneak watchful, calculated glances your way when he thought you weren't looking. If someone dared to ask, you'd easily answer with the honesty everyone knew you posses: You'd fuck König without a thought.
He's so feral in battle, so demanding and intimidating on the comms. His ridiculous voice made him all the more adorable contrasting with his appearance. Oh fuck that. Even his appearance was ridiculous, he looked like the red guy from that creepy show called "Don't hug me, I'm scared" or one of those executioners from the Shrek movie. But he was HOT, with that slutty waist accentuated by his bulky back, those long slender arms that could lift anything on his way, you saw him lift a fucking car a few inches so an injured woman could scape, and as she cried of relief you could feel your pussy crying as well at the sight. And oh his hands... The way he used them, so elegantly but rough, they'd make a beautiful necklace. His voice, as unfitting as it sounded coming from this KorTac monster, made you itch to hear more, his accent was so attractive that it quickly made you addicted to sound of it and your brain pondered on how he'd sound while doing other things. Lucky you, when the stars aligned and you two coincided in the gym you made sure to be close enough to hear the quiet grunts and sighs from the colonel as he trained, to your surprise he never moved away as if he knew what you were doing and thought nothing much of it. Safe to say, you'd gladly eat whatever interaction König graced you with with a speck of salt.
Though, when you begun paying attention to the details (because it was hard to guess his thoughts without seeing his face) You noticed a few things about the colonel that indicated he had a severe case of social anxiety. The way he self isolated, how he forced himself to interact with people resulting in very awkward conversations that led to him coming up as rude to what he got frustrated and scaped the scene, how he loved his job because you were convinced that he thought he was only good at killing. That made you wonder if he had other hobbies... It's funny to imagine a tall, muscly guy like him baking or making origamis.
______
Today you saw the ultimate signal that your big crush wasn't a people's person.
You two were on a meeting with some other KorTac members. König was peeling an apple and had finished it rather quickly as all of you spoke, but he spent ten minutes with the remnants of the fruit slowly browning and drying on his hand, so you decided to test your theory by walking to the near trash can to throw a random paper you crumbled quickly, after a few seconds König abruptly stood up to throw the dried fruit remnant, the tall Austrian glanced your way before he sat again and kept to himself. Okay, so judging by this and how stiff he looks, König doesn't know exactly what to do with his body around people, he needed an excuse to stand up and throw the finished apple so he waited for anyone to use the trash can to go after, BUT he waited a few seconds to stand so he wouldn't look like he was waiting. Must be stressful to be on his shoes. Interesting, but maybe you were overthinking too much, so you decided to do a final test that would definitely tell you if what you thought was right. You didn't want to come to this unless it was really necessary... You'll probably have to apologize later.
You directed all the attention to König by asking a number of things, (obviously work related) that caught the attention of everyone in the room taking the poor colonel by surprise, his cristal blue eyes widened for a minute before he composed himself answering everything you asked with a professional tone until you spotted the tremble on his hands, poor König noticed your attention drift to his hands so he slid them under the table. That's how you knew it. He couldn't handle being the center of attention for prolonged amounts of time. Your poor baby...
You gave him a sympathetic look that again took him by surprise, but by that time König had called the meeting over, gathered his things and walked out before you could approach him.
Damn you and your stupid beautiful voice and worried eyes trying to comfort him discreetly.
Gloved hands fidgeted with the bracelet on his wrist. König remembers the little girl who gifted him said thing. The day him and his team rescued her and some other orphans from a building about to explode, the worried colonel spent a few minutes comforting the little girl until she pulled the orange bracelet from her small SpongeBob backpack, he chuckled at the gesture and had never taken it off since. They even shared some letters from time to time, he held a piece of little Astrid in the form of a cute bracelet and she held a piece of him in the form of sweet spoken letters.
König saw her kind eyes in yours and it squeezed his heart so much he felt suffocated. Why would a teasing little vixen like you have such kind, gorgeous eyes? It was weirdly comforting that someone would look at him so softly like he wasn't a monster for once after so long.
His heart begun beating faster, his head was so full of questions about you it infuriated him. Long legs carried the colonel to the gym absentmindedly, like his body craved to ease some tension, but at the last minute he turned to the left corridor further from the gym, went to the right and finally approached the shooting range's door.
"Scheibe..." König cursed lowly, he could have very well bursted the door out of it's hinges, his gloved hand (still a bit shaky) took his favorite riffle from the top right corner of the shelf while he shot a backward kick to push the metallic door closed. He spent fourteen minutes shooting targets while mauling at your last interaction, rage swirled his insides and yet he couldn't fully hate you for asking questions, after all it was work-related, and the last soft gaze you gave him spoke volumes that you didn't want to advert all the attention to him out of malice. König was reloading his sniper rifle when he heard a gentle thud indicating someone had entered the room.
"You'd make an amazing sniper." You spoke softly trying not to startle him.
"You come to mock me? Laugh all you like. I'm well aware I'm too huge to be a sniper." He spoke in resentment over his shoulder before redirecting his focused gaze to the target ahead.
"I always say size doesn't matter! As long as you know how to handle your weapon, you'll make any girl blush."
Your dark humour takes König by surprise and he misses the dummy's head, he tries to hold back the chuckle that threatened to spill from his hidden lips. Luckily the shirt he wore as a mask shielded his face enough to make it look like he was holding in a cough or a sneeze but you weren't stupid. When he turns to face you placing the riffle to the near table he gets startled by how close you are, the smirk accompanying your lips as you weaseled close to his very sacred personal space made him curse lowly in his mother's tongue. The tall Austrian stepped back and you rose your hands in mocking defeat.
"Alright, I get it, personal space. Jus' wanted to hear ya laugh..."
"I didn't." He hisses.
"Didn't ya? I thought I heard it, must have been the wind."
Your sarcasm often infuriated König who never seemed to get a good grip on his English, so it was hard for him to detect when you were being serious or just pulling his leg. His hands flex on his sides, tiny waist move side to side as he balances his weight before he crosses his arms and leans his back to the wall. König raises a brow when your smirk morphed into a sincere apologetic smile as you admired his stance six feet apart from him.
"I'm sorry for what happened back there." You said honestly, he sucked in a breath. "Didn't want t' put ya on the spot."
The Colonel's cerulean eyes widen in surprise before directing his gaze to your tank top blinking rapidly. It was easier to listen if he wasn't looking directly at your eyes. "König..." Your voice was honey making shivers run up his spine and his skin erupt in goosebumps, his hands trembled even when he fisted them on his crossed stance. "Why don't we start again? Call me paranoid, but I feel like there's tension between us and not the type I'd like."
König wasn't shy, he wasn't, but that last line of yours made him feel like it, and it wasn't an ugly feeling? But it was a little uncomfortable, foreign, it squeezed his heart in a suffocating way, his hands were clammy, he felt weirdly light like if it wasn't for his tapping foot on the floor he'd float away. König understood what you were saying and it comforted him that you were on the same page, the weird unsteadiness between the two of you becoming rather unbearable and a constant topic on both your minds, it was relieving that you thought the same way. Suddenly the ugly anger he had for you quieted down.
The colonel lifted his hand your way offering you a handshake you took with mirth.
"I'm colonel König. Y-you are...?"
"Goddamn. Ain't your parents bit' egotistical? Namin' their baby boy 'king' in their native language." You say with a snicker shaking his hand. He takes it back abruptly but you don't flinch. "I'm Sargeant (c/n). My name is (y/n) (l/n). Is König the name written on your birth certificate or were you called somethin' else?" You press.
König is taken aback by this. When was the last time someone had asked the colonel his name?
"I am..." It tasted foreign on his tongue, like he had forgotten the sound of it, the taste of his own name on his tongue. "My name is Andreas Dobler. That's... That's my name." His name wasn't König, he remembers the man he left behind all those years back, the man under the dark cloak. Before things went to shit, before becoming colonel König.
"Andreas. What a curious name, never heard of it-"
"Say my name again." König interrupts. His voice weak but demanding and desperate. He loved it. He loved the sound of his name on your lips. It was strange, sweet... Arousing, even.
You blinked angling your head up to take a better look at his half-lid eyes. This time König didn't look away, your eyes met and suddenly the ugly tension from before was morphing into another type of tension, your heart beats faster in sync with his. You didn't know you were getting closer until König placed a hand on your waist and then the other, not pushing, not pulling, he simply laid them there and it came so naturally, your playful smile wavered slightly as your hands landed on his shoulders, he shivers. You tilted your head to the side and he was so lost in you, your aroma, your eyes, your lips, your touch, he didn't realize he was returning the head tilt.
Your lips parted, pink tongue darting to hydrate your dry lips until your pearls were visible from the gap, and his eyes catch every movement your mouth makes when you whisper "Andreas."
"Again."
"Andreas-"
"Again..."
"...Andreas..." Your hands slowly move to his chest, his breath hitches. His name has never sounded so sensual whispered by anyone's mouth. You were... You...
"You..." He isn't sure what to say. You are not sure either, suddenly your wit has abandoned you it seems. "You intrigue me." He decides to huff out, accent heavily pronounced.
There's a thousand thoughts swirling on König's mind, he has shared his name but it suddenly didn't feel enough, he wanted to show you who he was, his past, his thoughts, his hopes and dreams, even his face. How can a simple woman like you make König feel so much? Because you were no simple woman. That's why when he felt your small hands slide up his chest to the hem of the shirt that composed his mask, König didn't tense up, in fact, his shoulders relaxed embracing the touch of your fingers gently feeling his neck under the cloth, his stubble, his chin, his high cheeks... Gloved hands grab your wrists.
You stop, still looking up at him noticing the heaving of his chest and how lost in awe his gaze seemed.
"Not yet?"
"I-i... Do not..." Mind. He didn't want to refuse your touch but at the same time it was so overwhelming.
You give a small nod, König lets go of your wrists and you take this opportunity to nuzzle his cheeks, he gasps landing his hands on your waist once more, squeezing the flesh over your tank top. The feeling of your fingers on his face was so foreign it felt like you were touching a piece of his soul.
"Don't you worry, darling..." König lets out a small whimper at this. "I'm rushing things ain' I? We were just getting on the first name basis and I had to screw it all..." You wanted to sound apologetic, you promise, but it was so hard when your colonel was practically purring at the feeling of your soft hands scratching his stubble.
König was putty on your hands, he has never felt this way. His cheeks burn in embarrassment, he tries to move back but remembers he's already against the wall, and you, a small thing like you have him cornered like a honey badger hunting a lion. His lip wobbles and he tilts his head to the side as he feels your hands massage and explore his neck and jaw in long, gentle motions.
"Shy lil' thing... Aren't you pretty hiding under there? Maybe you are too beautiful to allow anyone the pleasure of a simple look. Like a sweet Ferrero Roche firmly wrapped and ready to be eaten." You whisper, voice raspy before you chuckle when his Adam's apple bobs with a swallow. Your body is now pressed compleatly against his, your dear colonel's hands tremble on your sides as he fists your tank top. He's nervous, he's shy, but you know he is enjoying this judging by the way his teary, half-lid eyes blink slowly every time you feel a new inch of skin.
"...Sag bitte mehr, ich flehe dich an..." (Say more please, I beg you.) König moans out, his german accent so strong masking how weak he was feeling at the moment.
He loved your voice, your touch... Your everything. The colonel ran his fingers on your lower back encouraging to continue, meanwhile he very slowly tilted his head higher allowing you more space on his neck to massage and scratch. You chuckle darkly feeling his member poking at your belly, your body instantly pressing harder against his cornered torso.
"You like the sound of my voice, colonel?" You humm, he makes a small noise. "Andreas...?"
His shoulders shake with the force of his shiver, nails digging deliciously on your lower back, you chuckle delighted at the sight tilting his chin to the other side to feel his nape, his ear and some locks of hair. "ich begehre dich..." The Austrian groans, his member now fully erect twitched delighted by the delicious pressure of your torso against it and your soft ministrations to his neck.
Both your radios churr alive until a voice breaks the static, a random operator checking on the comms. König almost knocks you over with how fast he straightened his back and the way his strong grip held you back, his chest heaving fast, eyes wide and vulnerable. You take the opportunity to grab him by the hem of the shirt he uses as a mask.
"Wait-..."
König freezes when he feels cold air hit the heated skin from his neck. You had lifted a portion of the cloth revealing the part you were previously massaging, caressing and scratching. His head moves up to the side trying to hide from your touch, his hands shoot backwards planting on the wall as if a force had taken them from the previous grip he had on you.
"I hope you can forgive me colonel... Can't help it..."
There's a long gash on his neck, a very old scar that seemed to be product of a knife fight or even a bullet, it's crocked and it goes up probably to his right ear. You lean close on tiptoes because he couldn't crouch due to how shocked he still felt, and you planted your wet lips on the surface of the sensitive scar. König's throat rumbles with a groan, his powerful hands finally make the move to take you, to cage your body impossible closer to his. A hard roll of his hips make him gasp in relief and you loudly huff when he handles you to where he was previously caged, his hands soon making small effort to lift you up, both legs wrapped around his waist and he THRUSTS. You are still kissing, licking and nibbling his neck, your hands exploring the long bulky surface of his back, König moans delighted at one particular bite until-
"Shit."
König turned his head back so fast you are sure his neck is rotatory, two pairs of eyes look in shock at Horangi who is standing there holding the rifle König had previously left before all of this happened. Your colonel was frozen in embarrassment his shaking hands still held you up and his boner was no longer stabbing you, the thing died at the speed of light.
"Jesus Christ. You gonna keep staring or you wanna join us, tiger?"
König snaps his head back at you comically fast, icy eyes glare in surprise, horror and astonishment.
"As fun as that sounds I'll leave you two to your games... 'sides, I don't think you'll be able to handle König alone, imagine the two of us. We'd ruin you." The Korean's response made you laugh enchanted with his wit, he walked out the door in quick strides leaving you two alone once more.
König huffs glaring at the wall behind you. The sudden unwelcome presence of his friend seemed to had robbed the magic from the moment. Your Colonel's body shagged slowly lowering your body, and the moment your heels touched the ground his head leaned down falling to the crock of your neck, the feeling of the warm cloth of his mask made you humm. He kissed your clavicle over his mask and you ran your hands to his shoulders until König slowly retrieved.
He took two steps back, with a very noticeable defeated look.
"Hey. We can keep going whenever yer up to. Don't look at me like that, sweet thing." Your voice carried a playfulness that comforted him from the sudden feeling of defeat.
König couldn't meet your eyes, his voice was shaky "I'm just not like this-..."
"Andreas-"
"DON'T -...!" He barked, startling you both.
It was too much, too sudden, too weird, too suffocating. He liked it at first but... König couldn't put into words what he was feeling right now. He hated that the moment was cut short, he hated that he felt like it was his fault and he hated the way you are looking at him with so much concern like when you two were at the meeting.
"Verzeihen Sie mir." He muttered giving you a final short glance before he rushed out of the place leaving the door open and your startled self still leaning on the wall.
You recognized those words even if you didn't know much of German.
"Forgive me." You translated in a whisper.
Will you?
#call of duty modern warfare#cod#witty reader#konig x reader#konig cod#konig mw2#konig call of duty#konig x reader angst
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SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE
── ˖✮⋆˙꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ jungkook x han so-hee ˒˓ seven music video universe
summary. a missing scene from the seven music video, from the perspective of freshly heartbroken jungkook
genre/tags. pining, post-break up, (not so) unrequited love, incredibly whipped jungkook
─ this is jungkook's perspective of my other seven fic! read them here ⋆｡°༄˖°.🪐
Jeon Jungkook may have fucked up.
He’s not afraid to admit that, and neither is anyone else. Latto had cackled when he told her what happened, all broken up about being broken up with. She’s usually pretty cool about things, on his side, but she’s real with him too. The guys were kinder about it, but the general consensus was that Jungkook has maybe, definitely, fucked up.
So, it’s a messy situation, but it’s not impossible to fix. Jungkook’s a crafty guy, and he’s dedicated to everything he puts his mind to, so he’s sure that if he really tries, and really works hard he can fix this. He wants to fix it, desperately, because... well, because of everything. She’s everything.
She was everything.
He needs to fix it. He needs to fix them. He can fix it, he knows he—
“Should leave her alone, right?”
“What?” Jungkook asks, snapping out of his thoughts. He’s sitting at a barstool, head in his hands with his elbows resting on the counter. He looks over to Latto, supremely unimpressed.
“She doesn’t want you, baby,” Latto shrugs, leaning next to him, eyes scanning the dancefloor absently as though she’s not actively ruining Jungkook’s life, “Give her some space, at least, before you rocket back into shit.”
“I need her to know—”
“You need to not push her into filing a restraining order,” Latto insists, rolling her eyes fondly. Jungkook pouts slightly, and she pats him on the shoulder, already walking away from him. He watches her leave, a little miffed and a little resigned because Latto is probably, definitely right, but he doesn’t want her to be.
“Then what should I do?” He yells at an already halfway gone Latto.
“Go home?” Latto yells back, “Go to therapy?” She disappears into the crowd, but he can hear her laughing to herself.
So, Jungkook goes home. On the same train that he always does. At the same time as he always does. Jungkook, from the future, would like to claim that these factors make what happened next 100%, completely, absolutely, not his fault.
Jungkook steps on the train, emptier than usual but still bustling with people, and grabs the first empty seat he can find, sighing with relief as he just narrowly avoids standing in the shadow of a fairly gross looking businessman. He readjusts, stretching slightly as the train begins to move, and as he settles in his seat, he looks around the train and—
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Han So-hee is still as beautiful as the day they met, and still as devastating as the day she left.
“Um,” Jungkook says, and she rolls her eyes, beginning to stand.
“Excuse me,” So-hee starts to stand, looking to the people around her, “Do you want my s—”
The train shakes abrubtly, slamming her back into her seat, and she sighs, resigned and exhausted. She settles back into her seat, putting her earbuds back in with a pointed glare at him.
“Don’t say anything,” She bites out the words, like they’re painful, and they are painful, but more for Jungkook than her. Jungkook just nods, quiet and understanding. So-hee blinks, a little taken aback, but then she just rolls her eyes and returns back to her phone. Jungkook returns back to his too, but it’s absent, like he’s not fully there because he isn’t.
A different Jungkook wouldn’t have listened. He would’ve kept talking, pestered her into laughing and letting him back into her home, like he always did after arguments. But, current Jungkook knows he can’t do that anymore, that he did it one too many times, during an argument that was a little too serious, and now he can’t go back to her home, to what he always considered home, because he pushed her too far.
She gets off before him, because she always does. He can see the exact route she’ll take home in his head, memorized from nights where they stumbled back home together, drunk and giggly.
“I love you,” Jungkook says. He’s not sure if she hears him, but it doesn’t matter. He just needs to say it.
Through the departing train’s window, he watches her glance backward at him, before disappearing off the platform as a whole, into the streets of the city where she lives without him.
Jungkook goes back to his apartment, and he realizes that he can’t live without her. Jungkook also realizes that she can live without him, that she doesn’t need him in the same way, and he wants to let her have that. He wants to try again, but he doesn’t want her to hate him.
So, Jungkook resolves to let her leave.
Unfortunately, nothing is ever that easy. But, Jungkook would like to say that it’s not his fault.
Jungkook takes the same train he did when he was with her, because that’s the train he’s always taken, so he sees her constantly. Okay, whatever, that’s fine.
But, Jungkook goes to the same restaurants that he used to go to in university, back when him and So-hee would spend weekends and nights finding new, exciting places to eat, because he always goes to the restaurants. So-hee goes to them too, because she found them with him and has all the rights too, so he sees her at the restaurants and it’s hard to explain to every old woman behind the counter that no, they aren’t together anymore and haha, yeah, it’s all good, he just misses her more than he thinks he would miss his own lungs in his chest. So, he just... doesn’t tell them, and neither does she, and everyone still thinks they’re in love, so sometimes they sit across from each other in a restaurant booth to avoid any questions.
For practicality’s sake.
Um. Anyways.
He sees her at the laundromat, and at this point, he misses her like the Earth would miss the Sun if it imploded in the sky. She’s in an old blue denim jacket from years ago, with her hair loose around her shoulders and messy as she slams around a laundry basket, clearly sick of him. He can’t help himself from looking though, swinging his legs atop his own washing machine, watching her load her clothes into the machine. His eyes catch on a faded sweatshirt he used to have years ago, his university logo faded and worn on the front of it, and he immediately averts his eyes. If she knows that he knows, she’ll give it back, because she’ll be embarrassed. The sweatshirt is proof he’s still something to her, he’s still useful, so if she gives it back, it’s one less sign that she doesn’t actually loathe him. He wants her to keep it, so he doesn’t say anything, not until the room starts to flood and they’re pushing at the ceiling.
I love you, he almost says when they make it out, and she starts on her way home, still soaked and angry.
I love you, he almost says when he texts her about the police assuming her laundry was his, because his wallet had still been in her laundry basket.
I love you, he almost says when she opens the door and lets him, and the laundry but mostly him, into her apartment and offers him coffee on instinct.
Her cats brush at his hands and he coos at them like everything is normal, and she asks him about Jimin and work and if he could talk to the others about bringing her neice into the studio, and when he agrees, she says that she literally loves him, and Jungkook shatters.
“I love you,” Jungkook says, and So-hee doesn’t say it back, but she smiles a little bit, and lets him leave on his own, without slamming the door behind him.
Things aren’t perfect, she doesn’t run back to him with open arms and beg to be married, but when he enters the place they used to study late into the night, begging the shop owner for just one more ramen bowl and a few more minutes, she takes her bag off the opposite seat, and doesn’t glare at him when he accidentally mumbles to himself too loud while working.
It’s not perfect, but it’s close, and missing her when she’s close is better than missing her when she’s far. At least she’s still in reach, and at least she still lets him look at her.
“I love you,” He says, without even thinking about it, and she doesn’t even look up.
“Yeah, yeah,” She says, the first aknowledgement since she broke up with him months ago, “Have you considered putting that energy into a job?”
“You’re better than a job,” Jungkook says, teasing but light, like she’ll shutter away if it’s not just a graze of a joke. She gives him a look, and he thinks shit, because oh no, oh god, he’s fucked it all up again and he—
“I’m better than everything,” She says back, a small smile playing on her face, a clear indication of her joke, “Get a better excuse.”
Jungkook misses her more than anything. Her eyes, and her hair, and her hands, and her cats, and her food, and her brain, but more than anything, he misses the way she makes him laugh out of nowhere.
He laughs, because of course he does, loud and disruptive, and it turns into choking giggles when the old ladies nearby shush him loudly. His eyes are shut, blinking rapidly to get away his tears, even though it really wasn’t that funny. It’s a mix of shock, and delight, and nostalgia making him inconsolably laugh, but his distraction stops him from noticing the way she grins fondly.It’s not an I love you, but it’s close, and he missed it. He missed everything about her. All he wants to do is get it back, and actually see it, see her, again.
#jungkook#seven jungkook#jeon jungkook#han so hee#jungkook fanfic#kpop fanfic#bts fanfic#han so-hee#seven#༄˖°🪐 writes
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if anyone needs me, I'm quietly losing my mind that Blackwall refers to the bad future from "In Hushed Whispers" as a mistake and then again refers to [spoilers] in "Revelations" as a mistake, which, in a game full of people making questionable choices on a scale from "you're wearing that to a ball?" to "world-ending", seems significant.
#i'm connecting the dots.meme#i think it's. hmm. it's an interesting choice for him to refer to his past monstrous conduct as a mistake when;#his behavior since then indicates that he very much does not classify this as the same as like. spilling milk.#but then. i wouldn't call ' being imprisoned and tortured for a year ' a mistake. either.#what the fuck goes on in your head my guy. what would you consider a disaster.#polkaknox talks
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[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST… 9.6M VIEWS
꩜ actor!toji (& implied actor toji x actress/actor reader)
⤷ synopsis: toji thought this lie detector test was going to be a breeze. he was a little mistaken.
sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, toji & reader are secretly together, toji lying!
masterlists
actor!toji masterlist
⪩ ₊ 🍪 ✧ ⁺
“i ain’t nervous,” toji claims, cracking his neck and smirking as the crew members attach the needed equipment to his body, “i ain’t no liar either. so i got nothing to worry about here.”
“i sure hope that’s true, mr.fushiguro.” the polygraph examiner replies slyly.
“are you ready, toji fushiguro?” the interviewer asks.
“yeah, i am,” toji claps, “hurry up and get started.”
“is your name toji fushiguro?”
“yes my name is toji fushiguro.” he looks to the polygraph examiner. “it is, right?”
the woman simply stares at him.
“..alright then…”
the interviews asks another question. “are you about to take a polygraph exam?”
“yes, yes and yes, now give me the real questions!”
TOJI FUSHIGURO TELLS THE TRUTH
YOUR CAREER
“we’re going to start with the category of your career.”
toji nods and looks to the examiner. “how ‘m i doing?”
“you’re very calm, nothing unusual yet.”
“hm.”
the interview begins to speak. “one of your most popular roles as an actor was when you played Frank Castle in the Netflix series, “The Punisher”. some would say this is when you became a heartthrob. do you think is this true?”
toji sighs and shakes his head. “nah-”
“LIE.” the polygraph examiner calls out.
toji raises his hand. “…because, i was already a heartthrob before alla that.” he smiles, looking proud of himself. his answer is met with silence.
“ok.” says the interviewer and goes onto the next question. “do you face a lot of pressure being a heartthrob?”
“nope.” toji answers easily. “i’m just that kinda guy. i ain’t gotta try too hard for much, especially not ‘being hot’.”
he looks at the examiner.
“he’s telling the truth.” she states. she almost seems disappointed by the fact.
“see?” toji says, folding his arms, “as i said, ‘got nothin’ to lie about.”
“in the punisher,” the interviewer starts, ignoring toji’s cocky replies, “do you wear a muscle suit to look bigger than you actually are?”
toji throws his back, cackles echoing around the small room. “fuck no!” he gestures to…his whole body, “‘it look like i need a muscle suit? ‘didn’t even know that shit was a thing… i’m big enough without any of that stuff.” he shrugs, looking into the camera. “i think we can all see that.”
the examiner nods curtly. “..he is telling the truth.”
“do you workout often?” asks the interviewer.
toji scoffs. “i thought i’d get good questions..but yeah, yeah i do workout.”
“would you consider yourself fit?”
“yep. ‘hundred percent.”
“would you consider yourself fitter than,” the interviewer slides a photo of the actor gojo satoru towards toji, “this man?”
“pfft-” toji chortles. “oh, ohh yeah. easily. he’s like..” he looks for the correct words, “a little boy. are we kidding?”
he looks to the examiner and then to the interviewer.
“he is being truthful..again.”
toji smirks at the camera, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. “toji never lies.”
POP CULTURE
“this year, you were named “The Most Sexiest Man Alive” by People Magazine. do you believe you’re sexier than this man, 2022’s sexiest man, nanami kento?” the interviewer slides another photo, this time of the actor nanami kento.
toji looks at the photo for a second, before scoffing a little. “oh yeah. definitely. ‘guy just has a permanent frown on his face. he ain’t ugly but he could smile a little, y’know?”
“what about this ‘guy’, 2021’s most sexiest man alive, ryomen sukuna?” the interviewer also slides a picture of him to toji.
toji strokes his chin. “heh..yeah..yeah i would say so..this guy..he ain’t ugly either but..theres this energy about him..”
“what energy would that be, toji fushiguro?”
“the energy of a fuckin’ mass murderer that’s what!” he laughs at his own joke, looking at the picture of this ‘ryomen sukuna’, who is glaring into his soul through the image. “yeahh, i’d say i’m more attractive than him. just.. just a little.” he holds two fingers close together emphasis. “jesus christ, that’s one scary looking fuck.”
the examiner inspects the polygraph and looks towards toji and the interviewer. “he has been telling the truth.”
“yeah.” toji nods, exhaling through his mouth and sliding the pictures away from himself. “‘course i am.”
LOVE LIFE
toji had been doing well so far, but the category of ‘love life’ would be his downfall.
“do you want to get married in the future?”
“yeah, yeah i do.”
the examiner nods.
“have you ever been in love?”
“..yes.” toji responds, thinking about his past for a second.
the examiner nods again.
“are you in love right now?”
toji pauses for the first time in the whole test. he takes a deep breath. “no. yeah, no. ‘m not.”
the examiner raises an eyebrow at the results. “questionable.”
“oh, c’mon.” toji groans, rolling his eyes.
“is there someone you’re in love with?”
“nope. nobody at all.” he interlinks his fingers, tapping them against each other. “..nobody at all..”
“questionable. again.” the examiner states, pointedly looking at toji.
toji sighs. “oh, brother…”
“did you happen to meet this person..on set?”
“no, ‘cause there is no person?” toji says firmly.
“again.” the examiner says. “questionable.”
“christ…”
the interviewer asks another question. “do you believe in love at first sight?”
toji huffs. “no, that’s just two people who wanna fuck.”
“i see. then,” the interviewer takes out three pictures, all of them being people who he has worked with on set, including you.
“are you in love with any of these people?”
toji gulps, hesitating for a split second, his eyes focused on your picture. “nope. not oneeee bit.”
“LIE.” the examiner shouts excitedly, happy to have finally caught toji out on lying. she rings the negative buzzer repeatedly. “lie!”
“‘you serious?” he asks incredulously, looking between the interviewer and the examiner. “listen, maybe it was just my heart murmur or somethin’ like that,” he looks to side, cheeks rosy and shifts in his seat a little, “i-i don’t-”
“those are the last of our questions.” the interviewer says to toji, smiling knowingly. “thank you for taking part in our lie detector test.”
toji grumbles.
౨ৎ
tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000
a/n: this was longer than i planned 🤥
#I’m so sorry i always forget the taglist i’m not used to one i’m so sorry😭#actor!toji#toji x reader#toji x gn!reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x self insert#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro fluff#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji fluff#toji x gender neutral reader#toji x gender neutral!reader
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Task Force 141 x Reader: Picture Day
NSFW 18+
When a guy keeps sending you unsolicited pictures, you impulsively reach out to your Task Force for help in an... Unconventional way.
→ harassment, non con receiving of nudes, asking for nudes, sending of nudes
You don't want to do this. Really, it's not ideal. It's rash, and impulsive and, oh, right, insanely fucking stupid.
But, you're a spiteful person at heart. And, well, this would be the perfect response...
So, you open the Task Force group chat, type up a message and press send before you can stop yourself.
CorvidCorporal: hey guys
CorvidCorporal: can I ask a favour?
You don't have to wait long for a reply.
Captain Price: What is it, Corporal?
Ghost: No
DontDropthe: you know where to find me 😉
Gazoline: everything okay?
You sigh, type up another message, worrying your lip between your teeth.
CorvidCorporal: it's nothing serious
CorvidCorporal: just... weird
Captain Price: What is it?
Gazoline: weird how?
You bury your face in your hands for a moment, considering if you're really about to do this. Your phone buzzes again, a notification from a different chat. You open it and holy shit, another one? Hell no. You're going through with this.
You head back to the Task Force group chat.
DontDropthe: weird is my specialty
You can't believe you're doing this.
You type and retype the message a couple of times before eventually just pressing send. You shut your phone off, face burning, not wanting to think about what you just did.
CorvidCorporal: I need a dick pic
The little markers on the bottom of the screen indicating people are typing vanish then start up again. Vanish. Start up again. Vanish.
Oh, you're fucked.
What the hell were you thinking?! These were your coworkers! Your superiors! Your boss!
You scramble to explain yourself.
CorvidCorporal: forget I said anything!
CorvidCorporal: it's just this guy keeps sending me them unsolicited from different accounts because I keep blocking his ass
CorvidCorporal: I figured the best way to get him to stop would be to send one back
CorvidCorporal: you know a real power move
CorvidCorporal: just really blindside em
CorvidCorporal: but well... I lack the parts and if I were just to go to google the guy could easily figure that shit out
CorvidCorporal: it was stupid and impulsive and I'm so sorry I asked
CorvidCorporal: please don't fire me I need this job
CorvidCorporal: guys?
The entire chat is dead. But their icons show that each and everyone of them is still active. Even Ghost.
You curse yourself internally and knock your head against the wall. You shut your phone off and toss it away. Too overwhelming. Too much. You can't... Why did you do that?!
You sit on the foot of your bunk and mourn your career, face in your hands. Dishonorable discharge no doubt in your future... You're such an idiot!
Your phone buzzes from across the room. You ignore it.
Except it buzzes again. And again. And again. And–
By the seventh text tone you go to pick it up, almost feeling sick from the nasty knot of anxiety and dread in your gut.
You open the group chat.
You close the group chat.
Holy shit.
DontDropthe: see attachment
DontDropthe: see attachment
DontDropthe: see attachment
Gazoline: jesus christ soap
Gazoline: see (2) attachments
DontDropthe: see (3) attachments
Fif– sixteen pictures. Two from Gaz and fourteen from Soap.
Holy shit.
Your phone goes off again.
Captain Price: Let me know if you need anything else, Corporal
Captain Price: see (3) attachments
What the fuck?
Soap has moved on to sending you pictures directly. You dismiss a call from him in a blind panic. He immediately sends a video.
You type into the group chat with shaking hands.
CorvidCorporal: thanks
Gazoline: anytime
DontDropthe: it's only fair if you send them back
DontDropthe: i understand if your shy
DontDropthe: my doors unlocked
Captain Price: *you're
In the end, you got more than enough material to choose from.
Three from Price. Seven from Gaz. A whopping twenty nine from Soap.
You're still deciding on what picture to send (and on calming your racing heart and ignoring the growing heat between your thighs) when your phone goes off again.
Ghost: see attachment
Please reblog to support my writing!
Comment to motivate!
masterlist!
#call of duty#cod mwii#cod#john price#x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#captain price#price x reader#captain price x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#soap#gaz#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#poly 141
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a/n: send more requests i love doing them for yall
3k words
warnings/content ahead: bsf!chris x virgin!reader, smut, oral fem!receiving (eating out yess), suggestive, p in v, fingering, pet names (princess), Fritos, missionary, and more come find out
BANG
Your roommate had just left to see her family for the next week, which meant you had the apartment all to yourself for a full 7 days. You were ecstatic, immediately letting Chris know.
-
brobrobro
guess what rn
You type excitedly, your fingers practically shoving a hole through your phone screen. The message immediately goes to seen, and you watch bubbles pop up, indicating he was typing.
You finally came to your senses and decided to move out of that disgracefully small apartment ?
dude no
you know i can't afford that shit
im staying here until i start making the bag i deserve !!!
Right
now guess
You cut all your hair off and went bald
Please tell me you went bald
Actually no
Please tell me you didnt go bald
nah not bald 💔
I GOT THE WHOLE APARTMENT TO MYSELF;!!!! FOR A WEEK!!
Holy fuck
The caps had me go BLIND trying to read
where's the happiness and the cheer
you better start typing back in caps.
YES! 😭 YOU HAVE THE ENTIRE PLACE TO YOURSELF!!
FOR HOW LONG? A WEEK I HEAR? IT'S ALMOST LIKE YOURE AN ADULT!
THAT MUST BE WHY I'M HEARING FOLK MUSIC AND TAP DANCING OUTSIDE!
god bless ☝️ now come over so we could politely watch a movie
hmmmm Depends
what movie is it
Ya Momma! 😂😅
sounds amazing
I'll be there in a few
-
You close your phone, getting up to quickly clean the place around you.
Chris was no stranger to you, you two had known each other since the day he threw up on you in middle school. He had caught a bug and unfortunately he sat behind you. You didn't really understand how throw up could reach past a desk capacity but it had somehow made it into your hair. Disgusting, horrific week. But he made it up to you.
For him, he moved to LA for work reasons. He was famous, although he didn't like to admit it, nor did it really feel like it for him. You moved because of college, the moment you two graduated out of highschool, it was as if the universe worked hard to get you two closer. And, it worked. You guys were closer now than you were in school.
You would split the rent with your roommate, which was already an expensive bunch, considering this was LA. But Chris would constantly insist on helping you out financially, paying for most of your things when you would practically beg him not to. You had a hard time receiving stuff, but Chris had a problem with giving. You two balanced each other out in that aspect.
You hear a knock on the door, already knowing who it is. It doesn't take you long to reach it. "Why are you holding Fritos?" You ask, huffing a laugh at the weirdly large bag of chips in his hand as he enters your apartment and heads for your bedroom.
"'Cus I wanted Fritos." He answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world, flopping on your bed as you follow him to your room. You notice a few pairs of socks on the floor that you failed to pick up, doing so. "You know, I had to like, Uber here. You know how fucking crazy that is? Ubering to your place? Fucking embarassing." Chris complains, taking off his shoes and cuddling up in your bed.
"Why didn't you just ask Matt?" You wonder, folding your clothes. "Matt didn't want to. I need to get my drivers license, bro. Shit is getting ridiculous." He opens his bag of chips, and your head snaps up. "Chris." You warn as he looks you dead in the eye, a smirk playing on his lips as he slowly raises a chip to his mouth.
"Chris, I swear to God if you drop a single crumb on my bed."
"I won't." He says, before dropping the chip back in the bag.
"I'm not hungry." He folds the chip bag and places it on your nightstand beside your bed. "You get what I mean though?" He asks, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair. "Like, I cant ask Matt to fucking, I dont know, drive me to a hook-up or something." He huffs, exasperated from the imaginary scenario he created.
You sit beside him, nodding like you agree, grabbing the TV remote and opening up a streaming platform for movies on your TV. "Oh fuck, imagine I like, pull up to a bad bitches house in an Uber. That's so fucking wild." This time you laugh, "Ubering to get your shit sucked is crazy." You say, scrolling through the endless options of what to watch.
"You ever done that? Ubering to a sneaky links house or something?" Chris asks you, sitting up on your bed. You take a second to answer. "Well, I have my drivers license." You don't know why that would qualify as an answer, but you say it anyway. "But you don't have a car." Chris reminds you. "Right." You confirm, looking at your TV, pretending to be really interested in finding something to watch.
"So? Have you?" He questions with a chuckle, not really sure where you were going with that. "Chris, I'm a virgin." You grin at the irony. A second passes and he realizes you were being serious, his jaw drops. "You're joking."
You shake your head, turning to look at him. "But– you're like, a whore." He says, you scoff, "I'm not a whore?"
"Yeah, you are." He shrugs.
"No, I'm not. I literally just told you I'm a virgin." You put the remote down. "That's why I'm shocked, you would tell me about a new boy every week and then forget about them." He says. You pop a shoulder. "I just never felt comfortable enough with them."
"Oh." He mutters. "So you didn't bang?" He draws out.
"So I didn't bang." You confirm.
"You're nuts, you would say the most diabolical shit about them too." He points a finger at you. "I'm most definitely not." You push his finger down. "How old are you again, 19?"
"19 and untouched." You wink, he stares at you for a moment. "What? Can't wrap your head around the fact I've never been creampied?"
You watch Chris close his eyes, wait for a moment, then open them again. "I'd like for you to wrap your head around it."
"What?"
You two burst out laughing.
-
This movie was devastatingly long and the Fritos on the bedside table were completely neglected.
You and Chris were staring at the TV, both of you pretending to be interested in what was going on. Truth was, you both were lost in your own train of thought.
Chris had resorted to an extra pillow over his lap with his mind racing in all different directions. In his defense, he was human. Once you admitted to him that you were a virgin, he could help but think of all the ways that he could strip that away from you. How easy it would be for him to just bend you over and take that purity away from you.
It wasn't the first time he'd thought of you this way, he couldn't help it. You were gorgeous, and he got lucky with the fact that you were interesting. You were probably the only girl he'd met with a soul as beautiful as her face, that's what made you so special to him.
His eyes quickly darted to yours, who were watching the movie with such intent, he saw the screen reflect in your eyes, a new scene playing. The room was dark, the only light being produced was from the illuminated TV, keeping the place a simple shade of dull blue. His sight drags down to your lips. Your full, plump lips.
Chris wonders if you've ever wrapped them around dick before, sucking just as attentively as you were watching that movie. Sliding your tongue across the tip as you slowly pushed the rest in your mouth, your eyebrows arching as you began to stroke the rest of him. Even then, you'd still be considered a virgin.
You turned to look at him, feeling his gaze on you for too long. He didn't bother looking back, holding your stare as you tried putting together what he was thinking of. "Chris?" You asked with the same lips he was just thinking of. "Hm?" He hums, his eyes lazily back on your mouth, studying every word you form. "You okay?"
He nods, you furrow your eyebrows. He was definitely lost in thought. You lower the volume of the movie and he looks back up at you. "Are you celibate?" He asks, out of nowhere. You're taken by surprise, but answer nonetheless. "Not really?"
"Not really." He repeats on his tongue, as if testing the way it would feel on there. "Okay." He says, voice as low as it could get. "You were just never comfortable?" You nod, confirming it. You watch as his eyes slowly brush over every part on your face, eventually resting on your eyes. Through the enlightenment of the TV screen, you watch his dark pupils dilate over his blue eyes. "Would you be comfortable with me?" He finally asks, voice low. You swallow.
He had multiple strands of hair fly messily in multiple directions, some over his forehead. You raise a hand to neat a messy one on his head down, using two fingers to get rid of any potential knots, soothing your hand through it as he bends his head down, letting you. "Yeah." You answer. "I would."
He lifts his head up, his grin soft but undeniable."You wanna test it out?" You felt your heart cage within itself, but as the second passed you realized you wouldn't want to lose it to anyone else. You have been waiting for this moment for a while, a really, really long and dreadful while.You stared at his fidgeting finger before looking back up at him. A simple nod does the trick, and a hand is on the side of your jaw, guiding your mouth to his. You've kissed before, he knew that, but he was still treating you like a delicate flower. His lips pressed against yours and his hand was soft against your skin. You kissed back harder, licking his lips, forcing them open, insinuating for him to let loose.
Both hands go to grab each side of your face this time, kissing you hungrily as he moves himself from beside you to in front of you. Your neck is cranned up as he sits up onto his knees. You raise your hands and slip them under his shirt, feeling his bare skin as they slide down his torso. He pulls away, immediately taking his shirt off.
You looked up at him, his gaze lingering harshly on you as he stared you down. You bit your lip as he slowly grasped the bottom hem of your T-shirt. "Arms up." He orders, and you lift them. He takes the shirt off of you, bunching it up and throwing it to the side of your room. You aren't sure what to do, you hadn't exactly worn a bra under that. You cross your arms over your chest for some sort of coverage, but Chris quickly laces his fingers around your wrist. "It's okay." He tells you, slowly dragging your arms down. "Are you okay?" He asks soft enough to send a shutter down your spine. "I'm okay." You confirm, he leans down to kiss you once more, pulling away just as soon as his lips meet yours, going to take all of you in. Your body felt hot, your chest feeling as if it was steaming the way he memorized each of your curves. He looked up at you, making direct eye contact as he began to take one tit in his mouth as the other was being caressed by his hand. You throw your head back, surprising yourself with a moan as he begins to give you open-mouthed kisses, his tongue grazing over your nipple, validating its hardness.
His mouth begins to trail back up to your collarbone, leaving desperate kisses until he's reached your neck as his empty hand trailed down the side of your hips, his thumbs curling onto the elastic of your pants, pulling them down as he bit down a hickey. You gripped onto his hair, pulling onto the section that fell above the back of his neck as he distracted your mouth with tongue-filled kisses, but you were extremely aware of the hand that had slipped into your panties, two fingers suddenly pressing against you. You whimper.
"Everything okay, princess?" He breathily asks, watching your face scrunch up as he begins to rub your cunt. "So wet for me, how long have you been dreaming of this?" He tries to catch your eyes but they're sewed shut, the soft noises coming from your mouth giving him all the answers you need. His soft and lengthy fingers suddenly pump into you, and you gasp. "Chris." You utter, feeling him pump in and out of you as his thumb grazes harshly onto your clit. You flinch. "Chris." You moan louder.
"That's right, say my name." He says as he pumps you faster, his other hand grabbing the secure of your jaw. He wanted to feel your mouth back on his, he wanted to feel your moans and whines on his mouth. The clench in your stomach reaches an all time high and your hips buckle. Your stomach loosens and you feel your loud moans muffle harder by Chris's refusal to leave your lips, you feel him smirk under the kiss as you cum all over his fingers. "Feel good?" He questions, your nodding is instant and he laughs at the quickness of your answer. Your hand follows his hair as he begins to lower himself, kissing your stomach, thighs, and then your pussy. His tongue trails down your slit, his mouth collecting what had just been your orgasm. Your thighs immediately close around him, your legs going over his shoulders and crossing at your ankles. It was safe to say you've never been eaten out. Until now. And it was heavenly.
Your hands push down on his head, feeling his nose press against you and a huff of laughter giving your pussy a breathy gust of air. "So needy." He hums, licking your folds.
Embarrassingly enough, you reached your second orgasm, pulling hard onto his hair. He looked up at you, smiling with his teeth as white liquid drooped down them and off his chin. He fixes his posture, sitting up but still between your legs.
Catching your breath, you glare at him. "Still a virgin though." He sings the last word happily, memorizing the image in front of him as his hands massaged your thighs.
"You gonna change that or what?" You finally muster up a few real words, challenging him. He raises an eyebrow, "Oh?"
"Take your pants off for me? Let me feel you, Chris." You tell him, sounding awfully like a whiney, desperate order. The smirk is still playing on his lips, looking at you through his messy hair. "And to think you'd had enough."
"You promised me something, remember?" You palm his dick through his sweatpants, feeling him rock hard against your hand. Instinctively, he pushes his hips into your hand, and you squeeze his large size, whimpers sneak from his mouth. "It's obvious you hadn't had enough, though."
Chris wastes no time shoving his pants off taking it right down with his boxers. His dick springs up and you need a moment to register. Okay, woah.
"Finally fuck me?" You wonder. His grip on your hips were tight, as if he was keeping himself from suddenly ramming himself into you, keeping in mind you were trusting him with your virginity. "Finally." He confirms, the idea of fucking you in his mind since the moment he was able to form a thought like that.
He slowly enters himself in you, and your hand clasps around your mouth, trying to keep yourself from screaming at the sudden stretch. He clicks his tongue, letting out a series of curse words. "Fuck, you are so tight." You answer him by pushing yourself onto his cock as he holds you down. You clench yourself around him and he audibly moans, slowly rocking his hips back and forth. Each thrust was long, slow, and wet, you soaked up each movement desperately.
With his hand still holding onto you, he drops his head to look at the sin you two were participating in, guiding your hips in and out of him. Each pull rhythmic as he pushed himself deeper into you as you clench, trying to get used to the feeling. Your whimpers got louder as he went faster, hypnotized by the scene in front of him. He wanted to keep this memory locked in his head forever, how beautiful you looked sprawled against your bed, moaning his name as he thrusted in and out of you, taking away your virginity.
For a moment it all seemed too good to be real, and he went faster, wanting to see just how the narrative in front of him would go. The thrusts harsher and quicker, you gripped the sheets hard and your moans grew louder. "Taking me so well, princess." He hit your G-spot three times too fast, and you practically blasted him with cum. You tried warning him, but he seemed lost in his own mind. As if on cue, he pulled out the moment you came all over his dick. "Fuck." He followed that up with your name, finishing as his orgasm splattered on your stomach and chest, where he'd specifically aim it there.
He flops down on the empty spot beside you, both you guys attempting to catch your breath. A few seconds of shocked but comfortable silence pass.
He turns his head to look at you. "Good or nah? Wanna try again?"
"What, like, take my virginity again?"
"Yeah."
"How about we try a nice shot at my first ever aftercare, yeah? Then I'll consider it."
"Right, of course."
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher owen sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#the sturniolos#sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fluff#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo smut
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omg I am in LOVEE with frat!miguel and cheerleader reader 🙏💕 I was picturing reader somehow getting injured at one of Miguel’s games (maybe a player slams into her or she hits her head), and him literally RUSHING off of the field to help her and people are shocked to see him getting so soft!!!! Ofc, this could be the other way around too, but soft!miguel would be such a shock, especially considering his reputation, and so cute to see 🥲🤲 Xoxo
“y/n watch out!”
your cheer mate scream at you with eyes wide, and before you could turn around, someone else’s bigger physique crashes into you. causing your body to fall and your head lands into the ground with a loud thud,
the audience let out a collective of gasps and surprised, worrying about the small girl getting concussed by the large linebacker who hurriedly get on his feet before spitting countless of apologies,
but nothing compares to how miguel reacts when he sees his girl falls,
his blood runs cold, aggressively taking off his helmet and let it fall into the grass before sprinting towards you in full speed,
“muñeca !!” he screams, voice filled with worried while ignoring the coach calling out his last name. as the rest of the team begins to exchange glances, wondering what the fuck happened to miguel.
because he’s never been the one to leave his position in any circumstances. football means a lot to him, he lives and breathe football.
so to see him completely dismissing the game is a shock to the rest,
“f-fuck i’m so sorry, i didn’t—“
“what the actual fuck was that?!” miguel roars once he gets to see you close, but his angry eyes move towards the guy who just crashed into you. his big hands violently shove the man out of your sight,
“didn’t you fucking hear the rules?! this area is off limits! there’s a line drawn here el hijo de puta!!”
“the fuck?! the ball was—“
“i don’t give a fuck if the ball went through here!! you leave it as it is!! someone could get seriously injured! you want someone to fucking die or something?!”
the team has never seen miguel so angry and red, it’s almost like miguel could actually snap that man’s neck in half. his eyes are filled with vengeance as he continues to call the guy names for hurting you,
beck’s face goes pale. “oh fuck” he mutters, jogging towards miguel and hurriedly put a space in between them. “okay okay, man! easy, easy! don’t start a fight, need me to remind you what happened to chuck last year?!”
beck searches for any significant changes on miguel’s face. heavy breathing combines with a deadly look on his expression before he shakes his head,
“okay good. let me take care of this and go to your girl. she’s still hurt” he pats on miguel’s shoulder pad before he walks off,
miguel is still burning with anger but that soon subsides when he hears you call out his name,
“miggy?”
he never turns around so quickly, bending down to your level as his arms begin to cradle your fragile body before pulling you close. “you good, baby?” his voice is now gentle and soft. “let me see”
his fingers move underneath your chin, gently tilting it back and winces when he sees a small scar across your forehead.
“dizzy?” he asks, you nod in response, hand holding your head. he then looks up to one of your cheer mates,
“get a medic, now!” he yells out, putting your head against his chest so you can rest comfortably,
“o’hara! get back here, game isn’t over!” his coach yells angrily
“i’m not moving until my girl is taken care of! go get someone off the bench to replace me if you have to!” he responds by looking over his shoulder for a moment
the coach’s shoulders slump, brows dipping into a frown as he shakes his head. “the fuck? this kid—“ he grumbles before turning around,
glen nudges beck’s side with his elbow, looking as confused as the rest.
“I don’t get it. he never asks someone to replace him. not even when his knee was busted.”
beck looks over at the two of you, watching how miguel intently taking care of your injured self.
“yeah, I don’t get it, either” beck mutters but with a small smile. seeing how his best friend completely fallen for you was definitely not on his bingo card. it’s a good change, he supposed,
he’s never been this in love with his previous girlfriends. not dana nor xina. you’re pretty much the first. he guesses, you must be the one for him,
beck gets it. he does.
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i think Miguel would get turned on by little things. like little details that someone would normally overlook or have no reaction to
so what made me think of this is specifically when girls say to guys that they’re gonna like— “fuck the life outta him” because technically it’s the guy doing the fucking but i think the tiny bit of role reversal would haunt his mind. he’s distracted for the rest of the day. his boner that he acquired when you said that never goes away
also if omg— i think this is just gonna turn into Miguel secretly wanting to be dominated (or just generally wanting to be treated how he treats others in a relationship) so hold on tight
if you’re passing him in the kitchen or something and— AHAHAAAA okay wait
so Miguel is chopping something in the kitchen but you need to get past him for the fridge or something. so he’s chop chop chopping and you scoot by, resting your hands on his hips to lean him forward a bit with a small “sorry, baby.” as you scooch by. you’d just hear his chopping stop and he’s getting hard already. you have about 30mins before he’s fed up and comes to u begging.
AND IF U DEFEND HIM??? omg he loses his shit. like falling into subspace no matter where u guys are— maybe not fully under but man is slipping.
let’s say you’re at a bar w Miguel and you go to the bathroom for two seconds. a girl approaches him all like “wanna buy me a drink, handsome?” and he’s like “oh! i’m flattered but i have a girlfriend!! so…” she’s like scoff scoff!! “she doesn’t need to know” wink wink and that irks him. it’s rude to his character and it’s rude to u. “i would never do that to her” he’s done w the convo so he turns back to the tv behind the bar, opting to watch whatever is happening there rather than the bitch beside him. but she’s still yapping! “what?? babe.. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for u!! u can’t bend your rules just a little? *batting her ugly lashes* for me..?”
he just straight up rolls his eyes at her. she looks nothing like you so— “you are far from what i’d consider beautiful” he doesn’t even turn to her as he says it— he’s done w the conversation! but this bitch starts throwing a fit. “you’re a piece of shit loser okay?? you don’t know shit about beauty!! have u looked in the mirror honey?? looking like a fucking meatball is not in style alright?? i was doing you a fucking—“ she’s going on and on. some of her comments are starting to actually hurt Miguel’s feelings a bit (w his body issues and all) he’s about to just get up and wait by the girls bathroom for you but he’s scared to be seen as a creep. he feels dread sleeping in. he doesn’t know how long he’ll have to endure this before you come back and you both can just leave. “you’re an ugly 👏🏻 mother 👏🏻 fuck👏🏻er okay sweetheart?? you—“
“i’m sorry. did you call my boyfriend sweetheart?” relief floods through him at the sound of your voice. his head whips to see you, you have a playful smile on your face— but he knows the anger hidden behind it. it sends a little shock of excitement through his body. the woman’s eyes are wide as she stares at you, like she didn’t believe him when he said he had a girlfriend. “i— sis, listen”
you cut her off “i’m definitely not your sister. go on.” she pauses for a bit— shocked at your coldness before continuing. “girl to girl. you can do so much better, okay? your man— although “loyal” he is—“ you cut her off with a genuine laugh at he way she put quotations around the word ‘loyal’. “baby? finish your drink, okay? we’re leaving soon.” you look right past the girl, barely acknowledging her presence. Miguel nods frantically and downs the rest of his beer as you turn back to the girl.
“look. he’s my boyfriend. my man. i don’t care what you have to say. i don’t care what you say he did but i bet you i can guess the entire scenario” you have a confident, almost smug look on your face that has a fire burning in Miguel’s stomach. “you.” you pause to look her up and down with a weakly suppressed laugh. “tried to get at him… and then threw a hissy fit when he rejected you.. right?” she’s obviously embarrassed, staring at her shoes with an angry look. “well he said that i was ugly.”
you’re grabbing your purse from the chair behind her as she whispers that last part. you can barely make out what it says but you’re not even surprised. “and?” is all you say before walking out with Miguel.
in the cab he’s silent, worried that you’re upset until you speak up. “sorry if i was a hit mean back there.” you laugh a bit embarrassed. you go on to say that you know you shouldn’t have been rude, that people should spread positivity and more but he has to cut you off
“that was so hot, baby.” you take in his obviously disheveled, incredibly aroused state and give him a smirk. “yeah?”
you end up jerking him off in the back of the uber 🤪
he’s super whiny, whimpering, and will not stop begging for more
when u guys get married he gets really into choking u cus it shows off his wedding band
omf you’d do something nice for him while he’s sick— like make him soup or something and he’ll get hard
“you- you made this.. for me?” you’re baffled. “yes..? Miguel you’re sick remember? oh god this is way worse than i thought… do you know where you are, baby?” he laughs. “i know where i am! i just— that’s so- that’s so sweet, baby.” you shake your head and give him a spoonful, feeding him like he’s a baby. you’re focused on his mouth, subconsciously making silly faces as you pour the soup into his mouth. he’s watching you the whole time.
after that spoonful you go for another but he takes the bowl and places it on the nightstand. “wha— you don’t like it?” he smiles and shakes his head at your immediate doubt. “i love it, baby” is all he says as he pulls you into his lap, pressing his dick into you and begging you to ride him for all he’s worth
#i need to control how much i write 😭#this was supposed to be a little like#one paragraph each#now look#tsk tsk tsk#miguel o'hara#miguel imagine#miguel ohara#miguel x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel smut#miguel 2099#miguel o hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel o’hara smut#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara headcanon#spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara#2099#sm 2099#spiderman 2099
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HIIII, I've been thinking in reader wanting to ride megumi's face but she is so shy to ask but somehow megumi finds out what she wanna do😋😼
somehow? he knows. he's a smart guy ;)
18+ ! watching porn, masturbation mention, oral, afab reader x 21+ megumi
You can't articulate it. Every time he goes down on you... you want more? Sure, he encourages you to move your hips. He grabs your body as he kneels between your legs on the bed and drags you closer, sucking and making out with your pussy.
But after watching a certain pornographic educational video... you're starting to desire what you saw. A girl- a very pretty girl- climbed up on her partner's lap, then he pulled her higher, over his chest, then higher- over his face!?
Won't she suffocate him like that? How can he--
But when you hear the audio of the man moaning, you know he can breathe just fine- and if he can't? He sure as hell doesn't care.
And since watching that video, sliding your fingers down between your wet folds, you can't get the idea out of your head. In every intimate instance with your sweet boyfriend you want to bring it up, but you just can't.
He notices your hips bucking with such need- it seems to be growing every time you do this together; every time he pleasures you. But he pins you down and holds you still, sucking and licking you so thoroughly.
Had he considered pulling you up to perch on his chin? Sure. But will he do it... without being asked? Perhaps not.
You'd love it, surely? Or would you be too embarrassed and tell him to stop? That could potentially ruin the mood, so he keeps quiet for now, pressing himself further into you and humming contently.
"Ngh- Megumi?"
"Mm?"
"C-can we try... a different position?"
Uh.
"What position, princess?"
Could you be any less specific?
Do you want him to push you back, tilt your body up with your ass in the air and he's kneeling over you, sinking his tongue in from above?
Or... on your knees? With his face smushed into you from behind? He's sure he could manage that.
Maybe you want to sit on the edge of the bed, with your legs spread?
You stare right into his eyes for a moment, until he pops his lips from you and sits on his haunches.
"Baby, what is it?"
I can't read your mind, dammit.
You wish he could.
Your eyes flit over his gorgeous features, you bite your lip and grip at the sheets. He sees your shyness, your inability to express your needs... and he guesses. It's a hunch. But in all honesty, he thinks, what girl wouldn't want this?
He lies down on the bed and watches your eyes go wide with shock.
"Come on, sweetie," he pats his chest, gesturing for you to sit up there.
He moves you up by tugging your thighs, now you're sitting over him with a certain look in your eyes that confirms all of his thoughts.
"Sit on my face."
He tells you to do it, and you swear you're going to lose all of your self control. You perch up there like it's your damn throne and he makes you so comfortable you start to run your fingers into his black hair and admire that pretty face of his.
And he can't help it now, licking you and pressing his tongue up and into you, swirling around the bud of your clit and through your folds. It's addicting, the way you start to move, and the view he has- good god- your stomach and tits have never looked more sexy. He holds your waist and encourages you to move. You have no idea what you're doing, but fuck it feels so good and you can't stop.
"Mmmhmm- that's it princess-"
He feels you getting closer. He knows the look on your face now- how your eyebrows arch with concentration and your back gets a little stiff. He can feel every muscle in your cute body... he knows the dips and rises like the back of his hand.
"Cum on me, hm?"
He's asking you to. And you can't keep him waiting.
"M- mhm- Megumi-- y-you're too good at this-!"
He knows.
"Haha, you're so cute-"
He watches you steady yourself and eventually slow down, as your hips still over his face.
"Next time... just ask me, okay?"
Guessing is fun. But taking orders? That's hot.
megumi | m.list
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#female reader#megumi fushiguro#18+ content#megumi x reader#megumi imagine#megumi <3#megumi fushiguro smut#megumi fushiguro imagine#megumi fushiguro x reader
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I’d Like to Think That You Would Stick Around | s6
pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader
summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.
word count: 15.5k
warnings: SMUT, oral (m!receiving), masturbation, canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, guns, drinking, angst, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 6x06, 6x08, 6x17, and 6x18.
a/n: Sorry for the long wait guys, school has been kicking my ass, but here's the next part! We're getting a lot of angst this chapter, but we're so so close to the good times ;) Hope you enjoy! Title is from Love Song by Lana Del Rey
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Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You are talking to Prentiss across the bullpen, laughing about something he can't hear, and he's freaking out. He shouldn't have left that night. He knows that. He just didn't know what else to do.
Never mind the fact that he has no idea how much you remember.
When you bumped into him on the way out of the elevator this morning, he swears you jumped back, but then you smiled at him, and he was able to convince himself that it was all fine. So why does it still feel like you are avoiding him?
He can still picture the dark expanse of your pupils as you leaned in closer after stumbling into him; he can still feel the rush of your breath as your gaze met his and his fingers tightened on your hip.
He walks into his office, before sitting at his desk and dropping his head into his hands. His blinds are just shut enough that no one from down in the bullpen can see into his office, and he welcomes the privacy as he rubs a hand over his face and forces his eyes away from the photograph of the two of you on his desk.
'Aaron...'
Your voice had sounded so soft, so hurt-
He shuts his eyes again and tries to think about anything else (maybe even the paperwork he's supposed to have been doing for an hour now) but every time he blinks, he sees your face again.
He has suspected the shift in your feelings for a little while now, but that night at the bar confirmed something he isn't sure he's ready to handle. He feels it too - of course he does - but he can't think about it. He can't.
He's floundering with Jack, with trying to be there for both him and the team, and he just lost Haley. God, he just lost Haley, and the idea of losing you too because he fucks it up just like he did with her is unimaginable. They were together for decades - they had a child together - and still he couldn't give her what she needed. Your friendship means everything to him, and if he does something to ruin your relationship too, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.
He glances out his window and sees you still talking to Emily, both of your heads now bent down to look at an open case file. She says something to you, and your face lights up as you grin at her. Something that feels like lava pools in his gut and he swallows thickly as he turns back to his paperwork.
***
You head back to your desk and drop the case file down as you resist the urge to glance up at his office window. He hasn't looked at you once today, and you can't help it as your mind goes to the worst case scenario of losing him forever because of one stupid moment.
You had considered pretending that you don't remember anything from the bar, but he just left you there. That isn't something you can forget so easily, and even as you're trying to ignore it, you don't want to avoid him. But it isn't that simple.
You're simultaneously hurt and embarrassed, but it isn't even your own feelings that are at the forefront of your mind. You haven't been to his place in over a week, and you miss Jack and you miss him. You haven't gone this long without talking to him in years.
Fuck.
***
Your quest to stay out of trouble results in you staying late at the office to get ahead on all of your work. Most nights you were staying even later than JJ and Aaron, but then JJ got sent to the DoD as a media liaison, and the work started piling up.
You did what you could to intercept some of the paperwork before it landed on his desk, especially since Jack was so close to starting preschool and you know Aaron wants to take any extra moment of face time he can get, but it wasn't a foolproof system.
That's why it's almost midnight after getting back from a case in Ohio, and Aaron's office light is still on. Knowing it's about time you broke the cone of silence you've been under, you walk up the stairs, giving yourself ample time to change your mind.
A minute later, you knock on his door, before pushing it open gently, waiting to see the look on his face.
"Oh, you're still here," he says, his eyes lingering on you for an extra moment before turning back to his work. "Come in."
You shut the door behind you and sit in the chair in front of his desk. It doesn't sink like it usually does, and it takes you a second to realize that he finally replaced it. After all this time...
"Are you heading home soon?" you ask, trying to feign nonchalance. You can't remember the last time you overthought every single thing you said to him.
Yes, you do, your brain mocks you. A film reel of your awkward senior year of high school starts playing in your mind and one lone thought sticks out among the cacophony of memories. You loved him.
"Yeah, I'm almost done," he says with a sigh, his eyes still trained on his paper.
You frown. "Really?"
"No."
That surprises a chuckle out of you and you lean forward in the chair. It's stiffer than you're used to, and it creaks as you slide in closer. "Want any help?"
He shakes his head. "You should head home. It's late."
You don't say anything and when he finally meets your eye, you shoot him a look.
He sighs, begrudgingly handing you a stack of files. "With JJ gone, it's been a little hectic. I have to go through the new cases coming in, as well as completing the post-case paperwork."
"Shit," you whisper, not knowing what else to say. Even as you tried to cut down his workload, it wasn't even scratching the surface. "I didn't realize that was all on you."
"Yeah, for the time being," he shrugs, raking a hand through his hair to push it back, even as it bounces right back into place. "But it'll be easier when they bring us someone new."
That stops you in your tracks. "How new? Because you know I really liked Jordan, but she was too green for the BAU."
"Newer," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. "They're considering some Academy cadets who are finishing up their remedial training."
"Cadets?" you echo, your voice rising an octave. "They're babies."
"They're at least 25," he states, the corner of his lip twitching. "Besides, their remedial training would have been with the BAU, so they'll know what they're getting into."
They'll know what they're getting into.
It's not a dig, but the juvenile corner of your brain hangs onto his words, trying to make out some double meaning.
"That's some relief, I guess." You flip open the first file, trying to pay attention as you scan the brief, but it just reminds you of how much you miss JJ.
"She was so much better at this," you groan, flipping the page. "I'm not sure anyone can replace her."
"I'm definitely sure that no one can," Aaron says simply as he glances up at you, "but we'll take any help we can get at this point."
There's a layer of subtext behind his tone, and you don't know if you're equipped to decipher it right now, after being up for almost 24 hours. Nevertheless, you don't give in as he looks at you, refusing to break eye contact.
Please be okay, your mind begs as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Please say I didn't fuck this all up.
His eyebrows raise slightly, checking in on you for the first time in so so long, and another thought takes over your mind. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Blinking away the thought, you nod, but you can't stop yourself as you clarify, "It's just a temp assignment, right?"
He finishes the sentence he was writing before looking up. "Yes. It's only temporary."
***
"Daddy, don't look at me."
Jack's voice filters out from his bedroom and he looks at Jess with a small laugh as she pretends to lock her lips and toss away the key.
"I'm not looking," he calls out. "Are you almost ready?"
There's a small sound of affirmation from down the hall, so he stands up from the couch and reaches for the little jack-o-lantern bag that Jack wanted to use for trick-or-treating.
When he looks up, his son is emerging from his room, dressed incredibly unlike the comic book character he wanted to be for Halloween.
"Whoa," Aaron says, his voice a low rumble. "That is definitely not Spider-Man."
Jack just shrugs. "He's not a real superhero."
"He's not?" He looks at his son again, trying to discern which superhero wears a suit. "Okay. I give up. Who are you supposed to be?"
The answer is immediate. "I'm you, Daddy."
Jess nudges his shoulder with a laugh before she walks forward and swings Jack into the air. "You look just like him, bud!"
He opens his mouth to add onto that sentiment, but his throat thickens with emotion and he has to clear his throat to get a word out. "You tied my tie so well." It's the best he can do with his eyes burning. All he wanted was for his son to feel safe and loved. Maybe I'm doing something right.
"Alright, buddy," Jess smiles, setting him down. "Grab your coat and shoes and we'll head out."
Jack runs off and she smiles at him again, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're a great dad."
"Thank you," he says simply, his lips curving up into a smile. She says it a lot, but for the first time in a while, he's finally starting to believe it.
Jess opens her mouth to say something, but she pauses for an extra second, piquing his interest. "I haven't seen Y/N around here in a little bit."
There it is. He should've seen it coming. "Yeah, she's just busy."
His words don't sound convincing, even to his own ears, and Jess shoots him a look to match. "I happen to know you quite well, Aaron. So if you're overthinking something you shouldn't be, let me be the first to say, you're being an idiot."
He lets out a surprised snort. "Thanks, Jessica."
"I'm just saying," she shrugs, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. "I see things...and I know both of you, so it's not hard to read into things."
He takes a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "It's not like that."
He expects her to push back, but she just presses her lips together and shrugs her coat on. "Either way, Haley saw it too...and she seemed happy about it."
Before he has a chance to fully process her words, Jack rushes out, barreling into him. "I'm ready!"
"Alright, my little G-man," he grins, pushing her words out of his head for the night. "Let's go get some candy."
***
Things have been shifting at the office. Ever since JJ left, the team has felt smaller, and with your unintentional (okay, maybe a little intentional) avoidance of Aaron, the office hasn't felt the same in a long time.
Everyone has been taking on more than they're used to, and when Penelope had to fill in for JJ in a press conference during your last case, you couldn't help but notice how she turned to Aaron for support whenever she felt unprepared.
Your curiosity about their shared secret was eating at you all day, until you received a mass email from him to the whole team. Re: Garcia's play, Tolgate Theater, 8pm
You didn't have any plans tonight anyway, and after long days in a seemingly endless rotation of slacks and blazers, you welcome the chance to dress up a little bit. It's not like you go out often (or at all) unless it's with the team.
Pushing to the back of your closet, you rifle through the longer dresses and gowns you own, before landing on a light green, silk number. It has a halter neckline that drapes loosely around your neck, and you haven't worn it since before Jeff died, because it always felt like too much.
But Emily messaged you after getting home with a photo of her dress too, and even though it may be a lot for a little neighborhood theater, you're excited about something for the first time in a long while.
After putting on the dress and doing your makeup a bit darker than usual, you grab your keys and head out.
~
He got to the theater a bit earlier than the rest of the team, mostly to apologize to Garcia and warn her about the onslaught of support she was going to be getting, but he also wanted to get there before you did, so he could save a seat for you beside him.
From an outsider's perspective, he imagines there wouldn't seem to be anything different or wrong with your relationship, but he has been feeling the frustrating tension between the two of you since that night out.
Speaking with Jess on Halloween felt like a welcome reprieve from his cycle of self-loathing, and he finally feels more free than he has in ages.
Emily, Derek, and Spencer arrive a short while later, and he points them toward the seats he booked out, before heading back to the lobby, where family and friends of the performers are milling around.
When Dave arrives, he's also dressed in a suit. "We certainly clean up nicely."
He coughs out a laugh. "I haven't pulled this suit out in years."
"Well, aside from the cobwebs," Dave jokes, brushing an imaginary piece of dust from his shoulder, "you look classy."
"Thanks," he smiles, patting the older man's arm. "You should head inside. We're sitting about halfway up."
"You coming?" Dave asks as he steps around him.
Aaron shakes his head, glancing back at the door again. "I'm going to wait for...everyone to get here. I'll meet you inside."
He nods, before smacking his shoulder once and walking into the theater. When Dave's out of sight, he turns back around and pulls his phone out, trying to look busy.
He scrolls through a couple of his latest emails before tucking his phone away. The front door of the theater opens then, and when he looks up, all of the air leaves his lungs.
It feels like the world is moving in slow motion as you glide inside, your dress billowing down as the breeze from outside settles. You look incredible, and he feels like a teenager again, when he was so in love with you he couldn't breathe.
He watches you glance around, clearly searching for a familiar face, so he walks up, approaching you slowly to give you time to notice him.
"Oh, hi!" you say, your lips curving up into a smile as he tucks a hand into his pocket. "Am I late?"
"Not at all," he says, hating how strained his voice sounds. "The play starts at the top of the hour."
"Perfect," you smile, removing your shawl from your shoulders and folding it in your hands. "You clean up well, by the way."
There's a slight tinge of humor in your voice, and you're looking at him expectantly, likely waiting for him to lead you to the seats, but he can't move. He's terrified of what he's feeling, but you look amazing, and he's surrounded by people he doesn't know, so he doesn't overthink it as he reaches out and slips a hand onto your waist.
You clearly aren't expecting it as he pulls you in closer, his fingers sliding across the silkiness of your dress. You smell like flowers, and he can't help himself as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "You're beautiful."
Reality doesn't set in until he lets you go. Your cheeks are slightly flushed and he can't think straight, but the moment you step away from him and head to theater doors, the fog clears.
What is he doing?
The rational part of his brain takes over and he mumbles a curse under his breath before jogging forward to follow you inside. At least for the time being, he has the play to cover himself, but when morning comes, and brings with it the harsh light of day, he's fucked.
***
His skin is burning. The temperature in his office feels like it has been turned all the way up, but even as he undoes his cufflinks and rolls his sleeves back, the heat doesn't abate.
He is loosening his tie when his office door opens, revealing you in your rumpled button down and slacks. He opens his mouth to ask why you're still here, but before he can get a word out, you're shutting the door behind you and locking it.
"What are you doing?" he asks as you saunter over to him, stepping around his desk and pressing your hands to the armrests of his chair. "Y/N, it's late-"
"Shut up," you say firmly, twisting his chair toward you with a strong pull. He moves to get up, but you push his shoulder down to keep him in his chair.
He already doesn't know what to say, but every thought leaves his brain as you sink down to your knees before him.
"Don't move," you whisper, your eyes glinting up at him as you deftly undo the buckle of his belt and yank his pants open. "I'm in charge now."
He lets out a gasp as you tug his pants down in one go, and before he can do anything, your fingers are on him. Your lips curve into a smile as his breath hitches, and even with the thin fabric of his boxers between you two, the sensations coursing through him feel so magnified and new.
He is already hard as a rock, and you've barely even touched him. Teasingly slow, you pull his boxers down, watching as his cock springs free from the confines. Without wasting another second, you run your tongue up his length, and he grits his teeth to keep the groans in his throat from spilling out.
Your lips slowly close around his tip and the wet heat makes his head fall back as he tries to calm his breathing down. His chest is heaving like he just went for a run, but when you hollow your cheeks around him, he can't keep the moan inside. He loses control for a moment as he reaches forward to grasp onto your hair, but that only seems to spur you on, as you bob your head even faster.
The wet sounds of your mouth sliding over his cock fill the office, and he clutches his armrest with one hand and uses the other to guide your head.
He's already so close, and the soft grip of your hands on his thighs aren't helping as he tries to hold off, to prolong this feeling. At the last second, you swirl your tongue around the tip, and he chokes out a gasp, but then-
His eyes fly open to the lonely darkness of his bedroom. The room is warmer than it usually is, and his skin feels sticky with sweat under his covers. His mind, on the other hand...
He doesn't remember every moment of the dream, but the message was clear enough. His boxers are still tight from the memory, and he tries as hard as he can to think about anything else, but he keeps going back to the image of you, in front of him, kneeling-
Throwing the covers off, he sits up quickly and climbs out of bed, needing to clear his head in the only effective way he knows of. He shrugs his clothes off on the way to the bathroom, and he turns the shower on, making the water steaming hot, before stepping inside. The steam fogs up the glass around him, but he can still see the bare outline of his shame in the mirror across from the shower.
But now isn't the time, not with his skin burning and his cock pulsing in his hand. He pumps a few times as the hot water cascades over him, trying to set a rhythm, but it doesn't feel right. He keeps nearing the edge before the wave pulls back, and he lets out a soft groan in frustration as he presses his forehead to the glass.
Just once, he thinks as he grips himself again, his mind shifting back to his dream. Only this once.
His brain fills with the images from earlier: you on your knees, your mouth warm and wet over him, the pinpricks of sweat across the swells of your chest where your shirt was unbuttoned. He pictures your mouth as he ruts into his own hand, pretending, wishing, it was you instead.
It only takes a few more pumps before he finishes, spilling onto the white floor of his shower. The energy leaves him as he slumps against the wall, twisting the knob to a cooler setting, before shutting it off completely.
He still has a few more hours of sleep left before he has to get up for work, but he spends all night tossing and turning in the wide, empty expanse of his bed.
***
"What do you think he meant?"
"Maybe it's like a new manual, or guidebook."
"What are you two on about?" You walk up to your desk and slump down into the chair as Emily and Spencer look up with meek smiles.
Spencer is the first to crack. "We were discussing what Hotch might have meant by a 'different tactic' to solve this case in New Mexico."
You frown. "The gated community one? I thought Dave was just flying over ahead of us to get a head start."
"Nope," Emily shakes her head, before turning around. "He's in Hotch's office right now."
You look up just as Aaron and Dave exit the office and begin their descent down the stairs. Dave is ahead of him, with a big smile on his face, as he pushes past all of you.
It's only after you turn around that you realize who he's looking at. The woman he pulls into a hug is young - Academy cadet young - and she's pretty too.
"Ashley!" Rossi exclaims as he lets her go.
Hotch walks up behind them and shakes her hand. "Agent trainee Seaver is on loan to us from the Academy."
He introduces her to each of you, and you reach forward to shake her hand, a big smile on your face. After he told you that the bureau was considering someone new, you have had your guard up, but you don't want to make a bad impression in case she's here to stay.
"It's great to meet all of you," she says with a meek smile.
You pat her shoulder before walking past her to speak with Aaron about whether Seaver was the the new addition he was talking about. But when you lift your hand to get his attention, he turns away without looking at you, and leads Rossi out of the bullpen.
~
In the New Mexico gated community where three women have been murdered so far, Emily and Derek split off to check out the last crime scene, so you stay with the rest of the team and Seaver at one of the model homes to go through the evidence.
You can't help but notice how Spencer's eyes keep flitting over to the new girl, and a grin crosses your lips as you nudge his shoulder later.
"You totally have a thing for the new girl."
"Wha-what, no?!" he sputters, his face twisting into an unconvincing frown. "I don't even know her."
You just shrug. "You can still think she's pretty."
"That's irrelevant," he mutters, nudging you back and grabbing one of the files in front of him. "Do you think we can trust the local police?"
"I don't know," you sigh, letting him change the subject. "We definitely can't rule them out, especially in a community as clustered as this."
You glance across the room to Aaron and Dave, who are standing hunched over a laptop with the local detective. They're brows are all equally furrowed, and Aaron looks so focused you doubt he would hear you if you yelled his name right now.
Dropping the file onto the counter, you step around Reid and walk over to the trio, listening in as they start speaking.
"You interviewed every adult male in the community?"
The detective nods. "More than once. They're all digitized."
Aaron glances up as you approach, but when he realizes who it is, his eyes dart back to the screen. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of seconds, and he sees a frown cross your face out of his periphery. Fuck. He has to be more careful. You're a fucking profiler, for god's sake.
"Were all the interviews confrontational like this?" you ask as you come up beside him. He can feel the warmth of your arm inches away from his, and he leans his weight to the other side, trying not to think about his dream while you're standing this close to him.
"Is that wrong?"
Rossi raises his eyebrow. "You didn't get much out of them, did you?"
The detective shakes his head before skipping to the next interview, and everyone leans in closer to get a better look. With four of you surrounding the screen, it's harder to see, and when you press your hand to his shoulder to balance yourself, he all but flinches back from your touch.
The movement is harsh enough that everyone but the detective notices. His eyes fly to you as shock and confusion cross your face, and before anyone can say anything, he mutters something that sounds like 'sorry' before rushing out of the model home.
~
You're chasing after him the moment he's out of sight. Dave reaches forward to catch your arm but you shake him off, rushing out of the house and onto the street, which has been cleared by the local police since you arrived.
"Aaron!" you call out as he walks ahead of you, his hand raking through his hair. To his credit, he comes to a stop the moment he hears your voice, and you catch up to him quickly, stopping just short of him on the sidewalk. "What is going on? I thought we were okay?"
His eyes close for a beat, before his face hardens into a steely calm. You can no longer pretend like everything's fine. It hasn't been for a long time - not since the bar, and maybe even before - but you've always been good at compartmentalizing what you don't want to feel. With your mom, and Jeff, and Haley, you could push down the hurt until it dissolved into your bloodstream, spreading everywhere. It wore you down and thinned you out, but at least it wasn't overwhelming.
Looking at him now - your best friend, the man you...love. Your breath catches in your throat and he shakes his head, not looking at you. "What do you mean, Y/N?"
You wish you could keep pretending, like he seems to be able to, but it's just not fair anymore. Not to him, and especially not to you. "No, don't do this. Don't act like I'm the only one who sees how wrong this has been for the last few months. I used to talk to you everyday, Aaron. We've barely spoken in weeks!"
His face cracks for a moment and you see the glimmer of pain in his eyes before the wall comes up again. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" you yell, your tone more forceful than you expect. "What are you sorry for, Aaron?"
He looks at you then, the facade falling away as your words sink in. The lines of pain and tension settle in and you're almost relieved that he's finally showing you the truth instead of hiding away what he's feeling. But then the despair returns as his lips thin into a line, unable to answer your question.
"What," you repeat, your words tinged with malice, "are you sorry for?"
He whispers your name softly, like it's an apology on it's own, before using his next words to tear you to pieces. "Don't make me say it."
A soft gasp leaves your mouth and you involuntarily take a step back, like he's slapped you in the face. He runs a hand over his neck and a sudden feverish anger rushes through you as you shake your head, blinking back tears. "Don't do that. I know it's not just me, Aaron. It's not-"
"Please," he whispers suddenly, cutting you off. "Please don't do this."
It's almost like he's begging you, and you jerk back, unable to look at him. Men have hurt you before, in so many ways, but nothing has ever cut deeper than this. You don't think your bullet wound hurt this much, and at least then you had him to support you. Now you're all alone.
The aching heartbreak hits you all at once and you brush a loose tear off your cheek before turning around and leaving him out on the sidewalk, watching you walk away.
***
"Something's up."
Penelope bumps Emily's shoulder to grab her attention. After a second, she looks up from her desk. "What was that?"
"Something," Penelope repeats, her eyes darting back and forth between you and Aaron, "is up. Y/N and Hotch haven't looked at each other in like four days. Earlier, she was talking to someone on the stairs and he literally walked out of his office and then back inside again."
Emily looks at her. "Are you sure you aren't reading into anything?"
Penelope shoots her a look that can only mean 'you're kidding, right?' "They're inseparable. Something must have happened in the last few weeks that we don't know about."
Before she can stop her, Penelope stands up and barrels over to you, with Emily on her heels like an owner who just dropped her dog's leash.
"Y/N!" Penelope calls out as she approaches you. You look up from your desk with a frown, before your face breaks into a forced smile that both of them can see through immediately. "We wanted to catch up."
You glance at Emily, who shrugs, earning a look of chagrin from the other agent.
"Okay, what do you want to talk about?" you ask, your forehead crinkling in a manner reminiscent of your boss.
Penelope pauses for a moment, like she's trying to think. "Uhh, I'm not sure. Maybe about...you and Hotch?"
"Subtle," Emily mutters under her breath as your face scrunches into a confused frown. "She just means that you two have seemed kind of off lately, and we were wondering if everything was okay."
You press your lips together, unsure of how to broach this topic, even with some of your closest friends. "It's nothing."
That pulls a frown from both of them, and you sigh, doubling down on your feigned nonchalance. "It's really nothing, guys. I just...can't see him right now."
You turn back to your work and Emily and Penelope share a look, twin realizations clicking in both of their minds. They rush back to Penelope's office, and Emily shuts the door behind them, before they both blurt out something that sounds like: "We all know what's going on here."
"We have to make him jealous," Emily agrees with a nod.
She pulls open her desk drawer and pulls out her address book. "I have just the thing."
***
"I messed up, Haley."
The ground is hard from the chilly December air, and he sits uncomfortably on the familiar granite bench before her grave. There is a bouquet of dried-up flowers leaning against her headstone, and he doesn't have to think too hard to figure out who they're from.
"I'm trying not to," he whispers, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets to warm them up, "but I keep messing up."
A cool breeze wafts over him and the rustle of the nearby trees feels like an acknowledgement. Like she's really listening.
"She hates me," he sighs, his chin dropping to his chest as he shuts his eyes. The wind picks up slightly, and it's like he can hear Haley's voice in his head. She doesn't hate you. She's hurt.
"I know." He runs a gloved hand over his face, the cold sending a small shiver through his body. "It's my fault. I just don't know what to do or how to fix it."
Her reply in his mind is almost immediate.Yes you do.
He shakes his head, feeling like an idiot for talking to himself, even though it's helping him work through his emotions. "I don't. I really don't."
For a few moments, all he can hear is the rustle of tree branches and the low whistle of the wind blowing around the headstones. You have to tell her how you feel.
His chest tightens and he lifts his face, letting the cold air sting his skin, like some kind of penance. "Don't you think I want to? Every time I look at her, I'm terrified it's going to come out, but I can't say it." He takes a deep breath as the words start to flow out. He hasn't said them out loud to anyone, but right here feels like the safest place to let them out. "I love her."
Three simple words and it's like a weight lifts off of his chest. He still doesn't have the answers, but at least he can admit it to himself. "I'm in love with her, Hales. The only person in this world that I love more is Jack."
He can practically see her smile as he glances down at her name etched in stone. Then what's the problem.
"I'm gonna fuck it up. I always do." The words come out before he has a chance to think, almost like they've been sitting on the tip of his tongue for ages. He looks down at the ground again, imagining her sitting in front of him. "I did with you."
This time, his mind doesn't have the answer for him. He's finally in a good place with his son, and with the addition of Seaver to the team, his work load has been marginally cut back, so he doesn't really have an excuse anymore. It's just his fear of losing one of the only good things in his life that keeps holding him back.
But you're already losing her.
It's his own voice berating him this time, instead of Haley's.
You're trying so hard to hold her at arm's length that you haven't even noticed that she has stopped pushing her way in.
The wind rushes over him and he looks at the headstone again, his eyes tracing over Haley's name one more time, before he stands up and walks back down the hill.
***
Dave's annual new year's eve party has always been a fairly large spectacle, but when Aaron leads Jack up his driveway that evening, the sheer number of (expensive) cars lined up outside is nearly staggering.
He knew it wouldn't just be the team here tonight, but he wasn't expecting the sheer scale of the party, especially while his mind has been so pre-occupied with the prospect of seeing you outside of work for the first time in weeks.
The front door is unlocked when they reach the top of the porch, so he carefully pushes it open and leads Jack inside. He's only an hour late, but the hallways are already crowded with groups milling around, having loud conversations with a drink in their hand.
He doesn't recognize anyone until he gets to the kitchen, where he sees the rest of the team (minus Dave) chatting around a small snack table.
"Y/N!" Jack shrieks when he sees you, letting go of his hand immediately and running forward. You turn at the sound of his voice, and your face breaks out into a wide smile as the boy barrels over and throws his arms around you.
"Jack-o-lantern!" you gush, lifting him up and hugging him, your eyes falling shut as you squeeze the boy tightly.
Any onlooker can tell that his son loves you. For a while after Haley's death, Jack was closed off to every female figure in his life - even Jess - but he never shied away from you.
I love you, a voice in the back of his mind whispers as you set Jack down and press a kiss to the top of his head. I love you I love you I love you.
~
After Dave returned from the back patio and whisked away Aaron and Jack to meet some of his other friends, you loitered around the kitchen for a while, chatting with Derek and Spencer about their resolutions for the new year.
You're refilling your glass with some diluted punch when JJ and Emily sneak up behind you with matching mischievous expressions.
"What did you guys do?" you ask, gulping back some punch in preparation for whatever they're about to spring on you.
"There's someone we want you to meet," Emily grins as she reaches forward to loop her arm through yours.
"Oh, no way," you say, already shaking your head before they can elaborate. "You are not setting me up with some random bureau guy again."
"That was only one time," JJ pouts, before beckoning to the hallway across from the kitchen. You glance over her shoulder and spot Will standing with a man you've never seen before. "I had Will bring one of his single friends tonight. He's an architect, and he's super smart and super cute. Totally your type."
You raise an eyebrow as you inspect the man from across the room. He's definitely easy on the eyes, but he's also not your type. There's only one man who fits into that box.
"I don't know," you sigh, setting your glass down on the table behind you. "It's very sudden."
"C'mon," Emily urges, her eyes glinting with amusement. "It'll be good. Just talk and flirt a little, and if you're into it then you have a new year's kiss locked up!"
Kissing someone you just met in front of all of your colleagues sounds like nightmare fuel, but you can't think of another way to get your friends off your back. "Okay, fine, I'll meet him."
~
After leaving Jack with Henry and the other children, he heads back into the main section of the house, hoping to run into you. He doesn't know what he would say if he does, but anything is better than the avoidance game you've been playing.
He sees Penelope and JJ first, but you're not with them, so he continues forward, deftly stepping around throngs of people conversing in little pockets around the house.
"Hotch, over here!"
He whips around to find Derek, Will, and Dave waving him over to join them in the kitchen. He grabs a piece of cheese off a platter on his way over, and Derek pats him on the back when he reaches the three of them.
They return to their prior topic of conversation, and he tunes them out as his eyes dart around the room, still looking for you. He's about to give up when he spots the familiar hue of your hair down the hall. His lips curve up in a small smile as he watches you lean your head back with a big laugh that he swears he can hear even from all the way over here. He's about to excuse himself from the guys when a hand reaches out to gently touch your forearm, and you don't shake it off.
It's only then that he notices the man you're talking to, and how enamored he looks as you burst into another bout of laughter. Something that feels like ice settles in the pit of his stomach and he turns back to the guys just as they notice what he's been looking at.
"They seem to be hitting it off," Will grins, crossing his arms over his chest. "My friend's a good guy, and he mentioned wanting to meet her after they crossed paths at one of me and JJ's dinner parties."
He notices Dave glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but he can't bear to look at the older man, for fear that he'll give something away. Aaron feels the nauseating pit of jealousy in his stomach, but it's not fair. He pushed you away.
He turns away from you and tries to focus on literally anything else, but it's not long before he's unable to fight the urge to look at you from his spot in the kitchen. You can't see him watching you, and it gives him the obscurity he needs to observe you from afar, but it also makes it much more conspicuous to his friends.
You don't leave the company of Will's friend until much later in the night, and soon it's almost midnight. The countdown starts as everyone in the house lifts their glasses and latches onto their significant others.
"Ten, nine, eight..."
He's turning before he knows what he's doing. He can't help it, it's almost magnetic, the pull you have on him.
You're not looking at him, and he can only see your side profile as you glance up at the clock as it ticks down.
"Five, four, three, two..."
He turns away at the last second, unable to stomach the thought of you kissing someone else, but when the crowd erupts into cheers, he looks back to find that you're gone. His heart rates spikes and he pushes through people, ignoring the pats on his back as people wish him a "Happy new year".
He eventually spots you through the back windows, and he steps out into the frigid air to accompany you on the back porch steps. You're sitting on the top step, your bare arms wrapped around your body for some semblance of warmth, and for a moment, he can't move.
He can't decide if he should go to you or let you have the space you so clearly wanted, but then a voice in the back of his skull yells at him through all the noise. She's your best friend in the world. A few months ago, the answer would have been obvious.
A switch flips and he steps forward, sliding off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You let out a soft sigh as he sinks down next to you, and he watches as your eyes glisten in the lamplight.
You don't look at him as you press your elbows into your knees and rub a hand over your neck. "How did this get so fucked up?"
He sighs too, a heavy sound. "I don't know."
He's still looking at you, at the tears in your eyes, when you finally take a deep breath and turn to face him. A tear slips down your cheek and his brain fires off sparks again. I love you, I love you, I love you.
He wants to say it so badly, but then the newest factor in all of his confusion jumps back into the forefront. The Pakistan assignment. He has been trying to push it off, but he's getting so much pressure from the brass, and that's just one more thing he's hiding from you.
He breaks your eye contact and you let out a slow breath, almost like you felt him lose his nerve in real time. Without another word, you wipe the tears from your face and stand up, leaving him out in the cold once again.
***
The bureau gives you a week off at the start of the new year, but you can't enjoy any of your alone time. Every second you let your mind wander, your thoughts are invaded by the look on his face as he turned away from you.
You had seen it in his eyes out there, in the freezing cold air as the clock struck midnight. At least a small part of him felt for you the same way you felt for him. But it's not enough.
You've been alone for so many years. When you married Jeff, you were done. You didn't think you'd have to ever feel this kind of heartbreak again, but now that you feel that kind of love again, you refuse to settle for anything less than what you deserve. And what you deserve is someone who can show you how he feels.
Nevertheless, you can't control your subconscious.
That's why you're laying in bed at the end of the week, staring at your nightlight across the room and somehow managing to simultaneously miss him and hate him. It's well past midnight and you can't sleep, but you don't want to give in to the urge that's been tugging at your gut all night.
You're so angry with him, but he's also the only person you want to talk to when you're feeling anything you can't explain. It only takes another minute before you're giving in and snatching your phone off your bedside table.
It rings for a long time before he finally answers.
He whispers your name softly, his voice gravelly as though he just woke up. He sounds confused, but it has to mean something that he answered his phone at this hour.
"Are you okay?" Aaron asks, his voice still a bit gruff from the tiredness. "What's wrong?"
I miss you, you want to say. Instead, you panic and ask the first question that pops into your head: "Why do you think The Beatles broke up?"
The line goes silent for a moment before he sighs quietly. "Everyone blames Yoko but you know I think they just stopped working well together creatively."
"It was probably Lennon deciding to leave the band," you say, unsure where you're going with this. "Yeah, that makes the most sense."
"Maybe," he says, his voice a low hum.
There's no tinge of impatience or irritation in his tone, but you still feel awful for waking him up in the early hours of the morning to chat about a band.
You take a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for what you're about to say, but the breath catches in your throat as a small sob escapes. "I'm so mad at you."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, before Aaron exhales sharply. "I know."
Your resolve fades almost immediately and you sink back into your pillows. "I'm not mad at you." He quietly huffs out a laugh, but you can tell his heart isn't in it. "I'm hurt, and yeah, I'm kind of mad at you, but the only person I want to talk to is you."
You can hear his breath stutter over the speaker, and he rears up to say something, before thinking better of it. "It's late, Y/N. You should go to bed."
"Yeah," you say eventually, rubbing tears of frustration from your eyes. "I'm sorry, yeah."
"No," he says quickly, his voice hurried as though he's afraid you'll hang up. "Don't apologize. I'm glad you called."
Your heart flutters pathetically. "Okay."
"Why were you up anyway?" he asks after a moment.
You shrug, even though he can't see you, wiping away the last remnants of your tears. "Couldn't sleep."
Something that sounds like a quiet chuckle floats into your ears. "Try turning off that massive nightlight."
Your eyes widen and you inadvertently glance over at the beacon of light plugged in across the room. "What nightlight?"
He hums again. "Goodnight, Y/N." I love you.
"Goodnight, Aaron." I love you too.
***
It started when Emily arrived late to the briefing. She was never late, so that itself was enough to set off your alarms, but then you noticed her fingers. She's biting her nails again.
Aaron finishes briefing you all about the two families murdered in house fires in the DC area, before you disperse and head back to your desks to read up about the evidence.
When you drop your bag down and sink into your chair, you don't miss how Spencer visibly flinches in his seat, his eyes twitching with exhaustion.
"Sorry, Spence," you say earnestly, turning to him with an anxious look. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," he answers quickly, his eyes darting back down to the case file. "I'm... I'm...I'm sure these victims overlap somehow. Garcia pulled their phone numbers, but so far I can't find anything."
You've been working with him long enough to notice when he's deflecting, especially when he's doing such a bad job of it. "Spencer, you just jumped."
He takes a deep breath and you're suddenly grateful that his shorter haircut allows you to get a better view of his expression, even with his head down. "I've been having these really intense headaches lately."
"Have you seen a doctor?" you ask, sliding your chair in to get a better look at him.
"Yeah, a few. None of them have been able to figure it out."
"I'm sorry," you say genuinely as guilt and shame flood your veins. You've been so preoccupied with your own drama that you haven't been paying any attention to your friends. First Emily, and now Spencer. "Does anyone know?"
His lips press into an adorable line. "You."
"I won't tell anyone," you assure him, your eyebrows scrunching down. "I'm glad you're telling me now."
"I know," he nods. "I just didn't want you to worry."
"I won't make a big deal out of it," you tell him, your lips curving up in a playful smile, "if that's what you were worried about."
"Thanks," he mutters, but you can tell his heart isn't really in it.
It's been so long since you sat down and caught up with your teammates, and given how weird Emily has been acting, you figure it's about time.
~
"Have you noticed anything off with Emily?"
It's Penelope who comes to you first about the change in your teammate's disposition. You had clocked the small jab Emily had thrown at her after the briefing, but didn't want to intrude in case it was personal. You're starting to realize it might be a lot more personal than you originally thought.
"I have," you say simply, glancing back at her across the bullpen. Her head is down and her shoulders are hunched forward as she quickly types something out on her phone.
She waits for another moment before jolting upright and standing up. Before either of you can get a chance to ask what's wrong, she is jetting off to the bathroom.
"I got this one," you tell Penelope before strutting off to follow her.
She's looking at her phone again when the bathroom door shuts behind you, and you approach her slowly so as not to spook her. "Hey, I just wanted to check up on you. You sped out of there."
"I'm fine," she says, trying to brush away your worry with a wave of her hand.
You frown, taking a step forward. "Are you sure? I noticed you've been biting your-"
"Don't profile me, Y/N," she snaps, her head turning to level you with a glare that would have scared the shit out of you if you didn't know her so well. It doesn't last long though, and before you can get another word out, she's already apologizing. "I'm sorry. I-I'm gonna be alright. I promise. I'm just having this nightmare."
She details her dream to you, and the profiler in you can't help but relate it to her own lack of trust, but then she looks at you with a genuine smile and you just have to smile back.
"Somehow, you.." she pauses for a beat. "You always make me feel better. I don't think I've ever thanked you for that."
Her words feel so final, like she's saying goodbye, and a bolt of terror shoots through you before you decide you're being dramatic.
She's your friend. She's gonna be alright.
~
Emily's gone. She slipped out during Aaron's multi-agency task force briefing, and none of you noticed.
How could you not have noticed?
You're kicking yourself as Spencer pulls out a sheet of paper from one of Emily's contacts, with a list of undercover names all with the initials L.R.
"Prentiss is the last name on the list," Rossi deduces as you mentally check back into the conversation. Your eyes scan the board with the name 'Lauren Reynolds' written at the top. "That means she's on Doyle's list too."
"Guys," Aaron calls out from Emily's desk, holding up her things in his hands, "she left her badge and gun."
"Why would she do that?" Penelope asks, her voice small like a child's. "We're her family."
That's when you finally find your voice. "She ran to protect us." You turn to Aaron then, your eyes flashing over his like it's the first time you've ever really looked at him. "How do we find her?"
"We need to profile their behavior," he instructs, moving to the front board. "Doyle is our unsub and Prentiss is our victim. We treat it like any other case."
There's the small sound of a door opening and Aaron looks up, beckoning his chin to the back. "Because terrorism isn't an area we specialize in, I've reached out to an expert from the State Department...someone who can also shed light on Prentiss' past."
You whip around to the sight of a familiar head of blonde hair walking into the briefing room. The tension in your shoulders abates for a split second as gratitude cascades over you. God, you missed her.
JJ saunters forward and nods at each of you, her expression already rigid with concentration. "Let's get to work."
~
Profiling Emily takes you all to Boston, where the evidence from the previous victims adds up to the conclusion that Doyle is a family annihilator. When you also find out that he has a secret son, you and Derek lead the team to the warehouse where the son was last taken, in the hopes that Emily would have made the same connection.
The sound of a loud crash sends you running, but Derek is faster and he gets there before you. You enter the back room to find Emily bleeding out on the floor, a large wooden post stuck through her abdomen.
"I got her!" he yells into his comms before pressing his hands onto her wound. "Prentiss. It's me, I'm right here."
She mumbles something that sounds like his name and your chest floods with relief. You step out of the room to call for a medic, but when you get back, she isn't moving.
"Emily!" Derek yells as you sink to your knees beside him. Your pants are wet with her blood, and it feels like ice against your skin. How can there be so much blood in the human body?
"Come on," he pleads, tightening his grip on her hand. "Stay with me!"
"Emily, please," you whisper, your throat hoarse from the unshed tears. You press your fingers to her pulse. "Please."
The medics come eventually, and she is taken to the hospital, where the whole team is holed up in the waiting room. Spencer hasn't stopped pacing since she was taken into surgery and you can't seem to take your face out of your hands, even as people press comforting pats on your shoulders.
You don't notice anything going on around you until JJ comes back from speaking with the doctor with tears in her eyes. No, oh god no.
You barely register her words as she whispers, "She never made it off the table."
It's only then that you stand up. You're not sure what you're planning to do, but as soon as you try to move, your legs start shaking, like you're slipping in quicksand. Aaron steps towards you just as your body gives out and you collapse onto him, quiet sobs bubbling out of your throat.
"She was just here," you cry into his chest while you clutch his shirt as though your life depends on it. "How can she be gone?"
His hands rub comforting circles into your back as his arms tighten around you, keeping you upright, and you can't help but imagine that this picture looks vaguely reminiscent of his home last year when you held him up as he broke down.
Emily's gone.
You can't even remember why you were so angry with him before. Everything outside of this moment feels so trivial, like you've been wasting so much time. You need him now, and you're so thankful he's here to hold you up even though his pain is just as big as yours.
Aaron wraps himself tighter around you, fighting the tears that are rushing forward, because they just aren't fair. His whole team is falling apart in front of him, and he's one of two people here who knows the truth.
You choke out another sob and he tugs you upward, helping you stand again as you wipe the tears from your face. Out of the corner of his periphery, he sees JJ pull Spencer into a hug, and she meets his eye over the younger agent's shoulder. So much pain.
"What are we supposed to do now?" you ask suddenly, your voice so small he's sure he's the only person who can hear you. "How are we supposed to keep going?"
The familiar echoing emptiness of guilt swallows him whole and he sucks in a sharp breath in a futile effort to keep himself from drowning. Your glistening eyes are so wide with despair, and he pulls you back into his arms, mostly for comfort, but also because he can't stand to see you in pain for much longer. When he finally finds his voice, all that comes out is, "I don't know."
***
You can barely remember the funeral.
When you try to think about it, there are flashes of white gloves and red roses and rough, brown dirt, but the only thing that really sticks out is the pressure of Aaron's hand over yours as you stood in front of her casket while they lowered her into the ground.
So many funerals, so many gravestones. The eery familiarity that has made you numb to the loss, even as it threatens to tear you apart each time you let yourself think about her.
It has become a regular passage in the story of your life: meet someone new, learn to love again, and then lose them.
Tears prick your eyes as you settle into the stiff wooden chair in your kitchen. The team has been organizing impromptu get-togethers all month, mostly at the last minute and usually late at night. That's when the loneliness hits the hardest.
You figure you should be used to it by now. Deep down, you know it's not something anyone ever gets used to, but believing that the pain will abate is easier than realizing it'll always be there, buried in your bones.
The pain of your mother's death is still a phantom bruise under your skin, always there, but never at the forefront until you press hard enough. Losing Jeff was a whole other monster, hiding under your bed and within the confines of your mind, ready to pounce the moment you closed your eyes. Haley, on the other hand, was a fresh wound; sometimes, you still aren't sure that the gash has fully closed, but with time it has gotten easier to pretend that things aren't awful all the time.
You wipe a loose tear from your cheek as you check your phone messages and tidy up some of the plates from your table. Aaron came over last night, and you both sat in silence for a long time, until a photo of Emily on your computer brought you to tears again. He held you for hours as you shook in his arms, trying to keep yourself together, but ultimately failing.
The silver lining of his renewed presence in your life doesn't feel as sweet as it should, given the circumstances, but you'll take any win you can get. If nothing else, you missed the feel of his arms around you.
You flinch as the dishes clink together loudly when you set them in the sink, and you watch the water dribble from the faucet for a long time, pretending that all you see isn't her blood.
***
He doesn't know what to do. He wants to be there for you more than anything else in this world, but seeing you break down is like being stabbed all over again, only this time it's his own fault.
When you called last night, he couldn't stay away. He misses you like he's missing a limb, and even if he wanted to stop himself from seeing you, he knows he couldn't. Your grief has brought you back to him, but it feels wretched, even as he shoves aside his guilt for an evening to comfort you at this low.
He had lost count of the number of work-related things he had kept from Haley when they were married, but he always had the excuse that she didn't need to know. That her life would be better without the knowledge of all the horrors that circled them everyday.
He doesn't have the same excuse with you. You are well-acquainted with the tragedies that life brings, and if it was up to him, he would spill every secret he has ever hidden, because he loves you, and you're one of the last people in this world who still trusts him, and he's so scared that after this, he'll lose that too.
But he keeps his mouth shut. And when Garcia invites him to a get-together at your place, he politely declines, because if he knows you all have each other, then he can take one night off from the debilitating guilt he somehow still hasn't learned to shoulder after all these years.
***
"Come on in."
Spencer, Derek, and Penelope shuffle into your house, handing you bottles of wine and bags of assorted snacks, before plopping down on your couch and making themselves at home. They've been over so many times in the last few weeks that you figure it basically is their second home at this point, not that you mind.
None of you want to be alone, and that's why it works.
"What are we watching tonight?" Derek asks, his voice nonchalant, like it's just another movie night with your colleagues. He always starts the night acting like everything's fine, and it really irked you the first time he came over, until you realized it was a front that he just needed time to shed. "Didn't you say last time that you have the original Jaws DVD?"
"What if we watched The Empire Strike Back?" Spencer asks timidly from under a slew of blankets that Penelope has covered both of them with. His nightly ritual involves suggesting one of his favorite movies, even though it always gets immediately shot down.
Derek chuffs, snagging some of the blanket from off your lap. "Maybe another night, kid."
"I don't care what we watch," Penelope sighs as she pulls open a bag of popcorn and chucks a handful into her mouth, "as long as it isn't sad." That's her only request. Nothing sad, please. Your nightly ritual is like a practiced dance. Each of you playing your parts, reciting your lines the same way, keeping it familiar. Establishing a routine.
You stand up, taking your cue, and grab a random DVD from your cabinet. Ten minutes later, you're all watching The Empire Strikes Back, and Spencer cracks something that looks like a smile for the first time since before the funeral.
You watch the movie in silence, and when the credits roll, you watch the names scroll over the screen as you muster up the energy to find the remote. When you finally click the TV off, the silence feels suffocating, and you hear Penelope sniffle from next to you.
Throwing your arm around her shoulder, you all squish yourselves together, like the pressure will keep the emotions in.
After a long pause, Spencer is the first to speak. "It'll get better, right?"
"It has to," Derek sighs, his chin falling to his chest as he takes in a deep breath. You know him well enough to be able to translate his exasperation into anguish, even as he tries to hide it.
"It will get better." You glance around the couch at your friends - the people who have been here for you through all of it - and nod your head, choosing this moment to really believe it. "It will."
***
It doesn't.
A week later, you are storming into Aaron's apartment after he dropped Jack off to stay with Jess, your words already pouring out even before he can shut the door behind you.
"How could you take the assignment?"
Your tone is laced with malice, but he can still hear the hurt underneath.
"How could you leave us here after everything that happened?"
This time the pain is clearer. Your voice breaks at the end and he steps forward to do something, but you twist your body away.
His hands fall hopelessly back to his sides and he doesn't know how to explain this to you, when he can't even explain it to himself.
"Strauss left your brief in the conference room." Your words are stronger now, and he looks up, his eyes squinting with anticipation. "You've known about this since before the new year."
You're right. He's known about the prospect of this assignment for almost a year, and then after, when it became a real possibility, he still chose not to tell you. Maybe before, he had the excuse that you weren't speaking to him, but after Emily...he doesn't have a leg to stand on.
"Why wouldn't you tell us?" you ask, the anguish coming forward in full force. "We need you here. Jack needs you. I need you."
He needs you too. But he also needs to stop hurting you. And he can't see that happening while he's still here.
"I'm sorry," he whispers softly. I love you, I'm sorry.
You let out a sigh and your shoulders fall, like you've lost all of the fight within you. You look so defeated, and it feels worse than when you were yelling at him.
You're right here, but you feel so far away, like he's looking at you through tinted glass.
"Fine," you say after a beat. "Call me when you're leaving."
Your shoulder brushes his as you whip past him, and he doesn't muster up the courage to speak again until you're already gone.
***
The call comes soon. Too soon.
You meet him at his apartment, and Jack immediately gives you a hug before latching himself back onto his father. You don't know what Aaron told him, given how you don't even know how long he's going to be gone, but you can't imagine it was helpful to a six year old boy who only understands that his father is leaving for a long time.
"I called Jess to pick him up," Aaron explains in a hushed whisper as Jack runs out to get his shoes, "but she's busy until the afternoon."
"That's okay," you say, crossing your arms in front of you. It's a defensive maneuver that's about all you can muster up right now. "I can drop him off at her house after we get you out of here."
You try to say it lightly, but your tone sharpens at the end, making him flinch. You sigh, an apology in itself, because you're trying so hard to be supportive. You know you're mad at him - no matter how hard you try not to be - but this isn't the time to show your anger.
Jack comes back into the living room, and you usher the young boy out the door as Aaron lugs his duffel bags behind you and out to the car. The drive is mostly silent, and Jack doesn't say a word until you help him out of his carseat and onto the tarmac at the base.
"I'm gonna miss you, Daddy," he whispers, his little hands reaching up to grab his father's hand. "Come home soon."
Aaron picks him up and squeezes him in a big hug, before setting him back down on the ground. He looks at you then and you shrug, pressing your lips together. "What he said."
"I don't know how long this is going to take," he says, mostly directing his words at Jack, even though he keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Probably a few months though."
A few months. That shouldn't feel as long as it does.
"Bye buddy," he says then, kneeling down to hug his son again. "Go sit in Y/N's car so I can talk to her about some grown up stuff for a minute."
Jack bounces back to where your car is parked, and you watch him get in before turning back to look at Aaron. There's a resoluteness in his expression that shouldn't surprise you, given how driven he is by his sense of duty, but it still catches you off guard.
"You'll be okay there?" you ask, needing to get that out of the way before the rest of it.
He nods, before inching his hand forward to brush against yours. It's a small gesture, but you're not ready yet.
"I'm still angry," you whisper, pulling your hand back slightly. "I don't want to be, because you're leaving, and I want you to have a clear head out there, but I can't help it."
"It's okay," he says softly, his brow furrowing.
"No," you sigh, shaking your head. Your throat is thickening with the threat of tears and you don't want to cry in front of him now either, but there are too many emotions swirling around your brain to keep any of them straight. "I'm not really mad, okay. I know you're trying to do the right thing, but she's gone, and the team is not okay right now, and I need to find a way to handle it on my own."
I can't do it by myself, you want to say. I'm in love with you and you're making it seem so easy to leave me here to shoulder the burden of everyone's grief.
"I'm sorry," he says again, his voice softer this time.
You're so much better than me, he thinks as he watches you stand so stoically before him. I love you and I can't bear to see you in pain when I'm part of the reason why.
"It's okay," you repeat after a beat. Then you reach forward and take his hand, like he tried to do earlier. His hand is warm and calloused, and it feels rough against your palm, but it grounds you, tethering you to this moment. "I'll see you when you get back."
He nods, before pulling you forward gently into a hug. Your chin tilts up to sit on his shoulder and he squeezes you to him once before letting you go.
When he lifts his bags and walks toward the loading ramp, Jack leaps out of the car and grabs your hand as you both wave goodbye.
He flashes you both one last smile before waving back and disappearing into the plane.
***
The first month is the easiest. You let the futile anger take over; let yourself pretend that you don't actually miss him.
Seeing Jack and Jess makes it less painful, and you slowly find yourself spending more time with them than at home. Jess tries to spend time with Jack at Aaron's apartment to help him maintain a stable environment, but with his father gone, it doesn't help you notice the absence less.
"He's not eating as much," Jess mentions to you one night after she puts him to bed and joins you out in the living room. At first, being at his place without him felt intrusive, but you've gotten used to being there. "He was picking at his food all through dinner."
"I noticed that," you agree as you pat the spot beside you on the couch. "I'm sure it's just a picky eating phase. Once he settles back into a routine with you it should be fine."
"With us," she corrects with a small smile. "I need all the help I can get, and I really appreciate you being here so often."
"Oh, honey, of course." You give her forearm a squeeze before grabbing both of your empty glasses from the table and taking them to the sink. "I was worried I was becoming more of a burden on you by being here so much, but I'm glad it's welcome company."
"Always," she says, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. You set the glasses down and turn back to see her staring at the tiny picture frame of her and Haley on her counter. "She always made it look so easy."
You nod, not wanting to interrupt her moment. After a beat, Jess releases a heavy sigh and shakes her head. "She was the perfect mother. If I can be half as good of a caretaker for Jack as she was, I'll know I'm doing something right."
You smile unconsciously, remembering a moment from years ago. "I swear Aaron said the exact same thing once. He was upset about leaving work late again when they first had Jack, and I had to assure him that he wouldn't miss every childhood milestone just because he had to work late once in a while."
He was so terrified of being anything like his father. You tried your best to show him how impossible that was, but those are the kinds of things people have to learn on their own.
Jess looks down, deep in thought, and your phone chimes then with a new message. It's from Derek: Hotch sat phone call, 15 mins
"Jess," you whisper, getting her attention again. "Aaron is scheduled to call us over the satellite phone in a little bit. I'm gonna go into the office to see if I can talk to him. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"
She thinks for a moment before shaking her head. "Just that Jack and I are doing well. And we miss him."
You nod and press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing your coat and driving over to the field office. The sky is dark by the time you arrive, and it feels foreign to walk into an empty bullpen. The team has shrunk so much since he left, and lately it's just been you, Spencer, Derek, Rossi, and Penelope around here.
You knock on Aaron's office door once before stepping inside.
"Sounds good," Derek is saying as you shut the door behind you. "Yeah, keep us updated." He sees you then and beckons you closer before turning back to the phone. "Y/N's here. I'll hand it to her."
You take the phone from him and tentatively press it to your ear. There's a slight buzzing sound and when he says "Hello?", his voice sounds far away.
"Hi," you say softly, turning your back to Derek for some semblance of privacy, but he has already pulled out his phone and started typing something. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," he says, sounding slightly distracted. "It's really busy over here. How are yo- you all doing? Jack and Jessica?"
"They're good," you tell him, hoping he can't hear the tightness in your voice over hearing his for the first time in weeks. "They really miss you. We all do."
"I miss you guys too."
You hear some muffled voices on the other end of the line, and you jump in with your questions before he gets called away. "Any updates I can ask about? Like when you'll be done."
"Not right now," he says with a sigh. "It's still need-to-know."
"Right," you whisper rigidly, even though it's not fair. He's trying his best, and he's doing what's right, but you keep punishing him. Because of your own feelings, your brain adds at the end.
"It's protocol," he says, even though you're both well aware of how this works.
"I know," you sigh, your fingers gripping the phone tightly. "I have to go back to Jess's."
"Y/N, wait-" he starts, but you are already handing the phone back to Derek.
He takes it uncertainly, but you just shake your head and exit the office.
***
"Did you watch the other movie I gave you?"
You whip your head around to look at Spencer, who is looking at you intently. You had been staring at Aaron's office door for the better part of the last hour.
You frown apologetically. "Not yet, Spence." He had loaned you his DVD of one of his favorite Star Wars movies, and each time you tried watching it, you were just reminded of the immediate aftermath of losing Emily. "I'll find time soon, though."
"That's okay," he shrugs as you inadvertently glance up at the door again. "I know it isn't everyone's thing. I just thought you seemed to enjoy the one we watched at the movie night."
"I did," you assure him, reaching out to pat his hand. "I promise I just haven't found time yet."
He smiles at you, and you return it before your eyes dart up to Aaron's office door at the sight of movement. A small, unrealistic part of you expects Aaron to emerge, but it's Derek instead. Derek took over his office a month after he left to Pakistan, because the secure line was already set up.
"He has a lot on his plate these days," Spencer says, drawing your attention back. He's watching Derek speak to someone at the top of the stairs, his forehead crinkled with stress.
"We're down quite a few hands," you nod, pursing your lips. "Maybe we can convince Derek to bring JJ back permanently."
Spencer lights up and you can't help but grin too. "We definitely should."
***
The cases start piling up, and you welcome the distraction as the passing months begin to weigh on you. The whole team has been under a lot of pressure from the brass, and Strauss has been hinting at a prolonged assignment in Pakistan that may take up even more of his time.
After a particularly grisly case, you invite Penelope over to unwind with some wine and chatting. It doesn't escape your notice that you're missing half of your usual girls' night attendees, but you keep the wine flowing, and soon you aren't focusing on anything other than the new guy Penelope met at her grocery store.
"He's so sweet," she gushes as she leans over the table to grab another chip. You're both sitting on the floor of your living room, and you reach out hastily to steady her glass as it gets precariously close to spilling over. "And I think it says a lot that he shops at such a high quality grocery store."
"Oh, absolutely," you nod, lifting your own glass in a mock salute. "You can tell a lot about a man by how he eats."
"Tell me about it," she sighs, her words starting to slur. Maybe opening the second bottle was too much. "I once dated a guy who only ate protein bars and steak."
Your face twists in disgust, and you set your glass down, feeling the rush of tipsiness hit you. "That's definitely not a balanced diet."
"I tried to tell him," Penelope says, before her face falls into a sad frown. "I really tried."
"Okay, okay," you say, trying to change the subject as her eyes fill with drunk tears. "Back to the grocery store man."
Her face breaks into a wide smile comically fast and you let out a high laugh. "He's so sweet. He really is just the sweetest guy."
"So I've heard," you grin, taking another sip of wine.
Turns out your last glass was one too many, because an hour later, after sending Penelope off in a cab and clearing away your dishes, you're still feeling the buzz from earlier.
Your face feels comfortably warm and you grab your phone from the counter, with the intention to call Emily, when you suddenly remember-
Your smile falls in an instant and tears are rushing forward before you can clearly form a coherent thought. You drop the phone and rush upstairs to take a hot shower to wind down and calm yourself, but even as the burning water washes over you, you still feel wound tight, like your emotions are trapped inside of you.
She was the first person you would always call after a tipsy night, and now she's gone.
Everybody's gone.
JJ, Emily, Aaron. Aaron.
A sob chokes out and you press your hand over your mouth, your body caving forward under the billowing steam fogging up the glass. You miss him so much, it's like you're not even yourself anymore.
You let out another soft sob as the water begins to calm you down, but you can still feel the echoing hollowness inside of you. You wish he was here, holding you, telling you it would all be okay. That you didn't ruin everything by pushing too hard, too fast. That you love him and he loves you, and it can all be perfect again.
"It'll be okay," his voice whispers from behind you, and suddenly he's there. Not really, but with your eyes closed and your mind still foggy, it almost feels real. "I'm sorry I left. I should've been here."
"You should be," you gasp out as his arms close around you from behind, holding you tightly under the soothing warmth of the water. "You left me."
"I know," he says, his breath tingling the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I'll never leave again. I promise."
"You promise," you whisper, mostly to yourself, as you turn around. His lips glide over your shoulder and up your neck, and suddenly his mouth is on yours.
You gasp as his hands slide down your body, his fingers gently caressing the sides of your breasts as he makes his way to your waist. His lips are so soft against yours and when his tongue runs along the seam of your mouth, you moan loudly, letting him swallow up the sounds.
He feels so real under your hands as you trace the jagged scars along his abdomen, and when his tongue glides down your-
You sit up with a gasp, your head pounding with the beginnings of an oncoming wine hangover. Your sheets are messily strewn around you, and your skin is sticky with sweat, but you can't bring yourself to get up. You take a large gulp of water from the glass on your nightstand and check the time: 3:02 AM.
Falling back with a huff, you run a hand over your face and fruitlessly try to sleep through the rest of the night.
***
Summer brings its own set of struggles.
The heat makes each case feel ten times longer than it already is, and with September fast approaching, Jack gets more and more antsy about starting school for the first time.
"He's been shut in his room all day," Jess sighs over the line as you make yourself coffee with your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. "I think he's sad that he's starting school without either of his parents here."
Your heart breaks as you imagine Jack alone in his room, waiting and wishing for his dad to come back in time for his first day of school. Then an idea pops into your head.
"I think I know what to do."
An hour later, you, Jess, and Jack are waiting in line, under the beating sun, to get into the Smithsonian's zoo. Even tho you can already feel the sweat starting to drip down your back, Jack looks downright giddy, so you take the win.
When you finally get inside, he makes a beeline for the monkey exhibits, and you and Jess meander along behind him, chatting about her new side gig.
"I'm starting the part-time job in the fall," she explains as you stop behind Jack at the front of the chimpanzee enclosure. "It works out with the start of the school year, in case Aaron is gone for a while longer."
"That sounds great," you smile, giving her a small side squeeze. "You deserve something to take your mind off of everything too."
She shrugs, ever the neutral party, before looking at you with a smirk. "I hear there are some changes happening at the BAU as well?"
"Right!" you grin, following Jack to the next exhibit. "JJ was helping out temporarily, but she's officially back on the team. She also mentioned to me that she might be considering enrolling in profiler training so she can be a full-time field agent."
"Good for her," Jess smiles. "Lord knows you guys could use some extra manpower right now."
It's right then that your phone chirps with a text from Derek saying that Aaron is calling in again this afternoon. The urge to speak to him for the first time in weeks tugs at your gut, but then you glance over at Jack, who looks happy for the first time in just as long, and before you know it, you're typing back your response: Not today. Busy with Jack.
***
The next time Aaron calls in, you don't have an excuse.
You're at work, scribbling out the last few lines of your latest case report, when Derek tries to call you into his office. You haven't spoken to him in over a month, and he's asked for you each time he called, but still you refuse.
"Y/N, come on," Derek chuffs, running a hand over his face. "You know he wants to talk to you. He's by himself over there."
That's what gets you. By himself. As though you aren't alone too. As though you hadn't been completely fucking alone when, over the weekend, you found a pair of socks Emily must have forgotten at your place months ago, and had a full body breakdown on the floor of our foyer.
Each time you're close to forgetting that he left you here to fend for yourself, it comes back in full force, and right now, you would rather do just about anything other than put on a neutral face and ask him how he's doing over there.
"Next time," you say, hoping the finality comes across in your tone. It must have worked, because although Derek shakes his head disappointedly, he doesn't ask again.
When you go to Aaron's place after work to see Jack, Jess pulls you aside, a worried look on her face.
"We spoke to Aaron yesterday," she explains, her arms crossed over her chest. The bureau set up a secure line for them so she and Jack could speak to him periodically. "He seemed to be doing well."
"That's great," you say with a nod, unsure of why she's updating you when she thinks you spoke to him today. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, yeah," she says, waving away your concern. "I told him about Jack starting school in a few weeks, and about my new job. Then when I mentioned you - how you've been coming here a lot - he looked really happy that you were involved, but...he sounded off for the rest of the call."
Your shoulders tense up and you try to relax, so as not to give yourself away. "Damn Jess, they should make you a profiler."
She says your name sternly, and you can hear the Haley in her voice. "I'm serious. Have you guys not been speaking?"
"It's okay," you say, shaking your head. "I just need some more time, but I'll talk to him soon."
She twists her lips into a sad frown and you sigh, not knowing what to say, but she beats you to it. "He misses you...and I can tell you miss him."
You don't have an answer that she will want to hear, so you stick with the usual. "I'll talk to him next time."
***
"Do I have to go?"
Jack's bottom lip juts out in a sad pout as you adjust the straps of his little backpack on his shoulders.
"It's your first day of school, bud!" Jess is trying to sound excited, but you can hear the sadness in her voice too, now that she won't have Jack all hours of the day anymore. "It's an exciting time!"
"You got this, baby," you smile, pressing a loud kiss to the top of his head. "Your dad is so proud of you."
"Your mom would be too," Jess adds with a sad smile. "Now go on in, Jack. I'll be right here waiting for you when the last bell rings."
He considers this for a moment, before nodding. Then he looks at you. "What about you?"
"I have to work," you say softly, matching his pout and making him let out a small giggle. "But you can tell me all about your first day when I see you this weekend, okay?"
"Okay," he nods, before grabbing the straps of his backpack and marching toward the front door.
"There he goes," Jess says wistfully, linking her arm through yours.
You let out a small sigh before shooting her a smile. You love him so much, and you're so glad you get to be here as he grows up, but you're so sad that Haley is gone and he's missing out on this moment. "They grow up so fast."
***
The next time Aaron calls in, you're talking to Dave in his office about his latest cabin trip. He is filling you in on the species of fish that live in the lake behind his place when Derek walks in with the notification that Aaron is on the other end of the line in his office.
Dave nods, saying he'll speak with him at the end, and Derek almost skips over you until you follow him out the door.
"You sure?" he asks as you follow him up the stairs.
You nod, bracing yourself for the guilt as you pick up the sat phone. "Hello?"
"Morgan?" Aaron asks, his voice confused over the line.
"No," you say, shaking your head even though he can't see you. "It's me."
There's a moment of silence before he clears his throat. "Oh, I'm glad you could come in."
You say something that sounds like "of course" and suddenly he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He hasn't heard from you in weeks, and even though he's probably coming home soon, he's so happy to hear your voice he could cry.
"Jess said you were there for Jack's first day," he says slowly, trying to find his voice. "Thank you for doing that. I know it's a lot before coming into work."
"It's not," you say genuinely, momentarily alleviating all of the anxiety he has been having around missing everything in his son's life. "He's the perfect kid. I'm lucky to be a part of his life."
He closes his eyes, wishing with every fiber of his being that he was there with you right now, and not thousands of miles away. "Thank you."
"Any time."
There's silence for a few moments before your breath stutters. "Do you know when you're coming back?"
His heart cracks at the soft sadness in your voice, but he still isn't allowed to share anything that is strictly need-to-know. "I don't."
Your breath catches in your throat and he hears the quiet sob as it breaks over the line. "I miss you, Aaron."
His fingers grip the phone so tightly he's afraid it may shatter in his hands, but there's nothing else tethering him to his life back home. This metal box is the one thing that is keeping him alive out here, and even though he left home so that he could stop lying to you, he's still doing it.
That's why he swallows thickly and says the one thing he knows isn't a lie: "I miss you too."
***
The team got called into the office for an emergency that no one has explained to any of you, and you take a seat in the briefing room as everyone else files in, matching looks of confusion all around you.
"Anyone know what we're doing here?" Dave asks as he leans back in his chair.
You're about to shrug when a figure walks into the room in a dark blue button down and an unfamiliar scruffy beard.
Your eyes widen and your breath leaves your body as you start to stand up, but then he motions for you all to take a seat, so you sink back down. He glances at everyone in the room before his eyes finally land on you. You can't believe he's here. That he knew he was coming back and still didn't tell you.
"What's going on?" Derek asks, breaking your eye contact with a jolt. "Everything all right?"
Aaron ignores him. "Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle."
You don't know why he's bringing this up again but then he continues. "The doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration."
Your heart falls. No, there's no way.
"Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for her security."
Your teammates break their silence at the same time.
"She's alive?"
"But we buried her..."
You're still unable to suck in a big enough breath to regain the ability to speak, but then another figure walks in and you suddenly understand what people mean when they say their heart skips a beat.
"Oh my god," Penelope whispers from behind you as your feet unconsciously carry you forward and toward her. Toward Emily.
You pull her into your arms, relishing the feeling of your friend hugging you back after you thought you would never see her again. Her arms squeeze you tightly and you suck in a shuddering breath, trying to calm down your heart rate.
She's alive. Emily's alive. Aaron's back and Emily's alive.
The thoughts ping pong around your brain, fighting for dominance, but another one buried deeper in your mind floats to the surface, refusing to be ignored.
He lied.
TAGLIST:@citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios, @whosmys, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @chronicallybubbly, @shilphy87
(message me to be added!)
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#hotch x reader#hotch x female!reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#hotch#hotch smut#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#penelope garcia#spencer reid#derek morgan#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss#david rossi#jack hotchner#jessica brooks#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner series#criminal minds series#criminal minds season six#hotch fic#criminal minds fanfiction#anchor series#anchor
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3, 2, 1, Fight!
Rating: General Audiences
Tags: Meet Ugly, Steve and Dustin are brothers, pre-relationship
Written for the STWG daily drabble prompt: not a meet cute but a meet ugly
This is not at all how Steve pictured his Saturday going. He could be anywhere, instead, he’s standing in a comic book shop, fighting over a toy with another grown man who looks like he’s going to beat Steve over the head with it.
“Let go!” the guy yells, trying to tug the action figure out of Steve’s hands
“No, you let go!” Steve yells back, yanking it back. He has to give the guy props, though. He’s just as relentless as Steve is.
The guy sputters, an attractive shade of pink coloring his cheeks as his curly hair falls in his face. Wait, what? “Fuck off, why are you even here? Don’t you belong in a gym or something?”
Steve scoffs, still yanking. “Does it matter why I’m here? Just let go already!”
Dustin had been asking for this action figure for months now, talking about it and showing Steve newspaper clippings and TV commercials. Steve, being the good big brother he is, promised their mom that he would do his best to get it for him for his upcoming birthday. He’d be damned if he was going to let some punk, albeit a very attractive punk, take it away from him. Why did they only put three out on the shelf anyway?
They play tug of war for another few minutes, until the bewildered clerk, who had been watching their exchange, finally butts in and says, “Uh, I think I might have another one in the back? Can you wait here?”
They both nod, neither of them letting go of the toy. “I wish he would have said that in the first place,” Steve grouses, watching the clerk disappear behind a door. “Why they only put out a couple of copies of a toy I will never understand.”
It’s Hot Guy’s turn to sputter. “Toy? TOY? This, sir, is the limited edition statue of Kas the Betrayer that Wizard of the Coast put out to celebrate the anniversary of his DnD release! Not that you would care about any of that, you troglodyte.”
Steve has no idea what any of that means. “Oh, so that’s why Dustin wanted it. Makes sense now. He loves that guy.”
“Wait, it’s not for you?”
“Uh, no? It’s for my kid brother’s birthday. He loves that Dorks and Dragons game and he ran a Kas… uh… campaign? Last year? It was his first time. Kas is kind of a big deal to him.”
The other guy starts to look a little contemplative, but that’s when the clerk appears with another, much less rankled looking box. Steve immediately lets the one in his hands go and takes that one instead. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
The clerk shrugs and heads back behind the counter. Meanwhile, Hot Guy tugs his hair in front of his face. “Uh, look. I’m sorry I said such shitty things over a toy. It’s just, Kas is kind of a big deal to me too. You could have just said.”
Steve waves him off. “No worries, I get it. But now we both have one.” He pauses and considers a second. It’s worth a shot. “You could make it up to me over lunch in the food court.”
Hot Guy’s eyes go wide. “Are you serious?”
Okay, wow. “Well, I was, but you can just say no, you don’t have to-“
“No, no, no!” Hot Guy says, waving his arms around, nearly dropping the box he fought so hard for. “No, I’d like that. Eddie,” he says, holding out a hand. That pretty pink flush is back. Steve kind of wants to see how far it goes down.
“Steve. Now let’s go, before any more wayward nerds decide they want to fight us over these.”
Eddie, dork that he is, bows and motions towards the cash register, “By your leave, my prince.”
Steve rolls his eyes. He always did like the nerdy ones.
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How do you meet COD men ?
Price, Soap, Rudy, Ghost, Gaz, Keegan
(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC. )
P R I C E :
-"I'm going to die," you say to your friend.
-"What ? Why would you die ?"
-"I sent a pregnant Shrek cake to a military base."
-"Why would you do that ?!"
-"This guy ordered a cake for his soldier's birthday, but I also had the order for a prank and...
-"You mixed up the two boxes."
-"Yes."
-"So, actually,....a soldier is opening his box and..."
-"And he will see a pregnant Shrek cake."
-"...It was good to know you when you were alive."
-"You're supposed to reassure me !"
-"Oh sorry. You will die fast, don't worry. It's their job"
-"Fuck you."
-"How was the guy who ordered ?"
-"Like he could crash my head between his arms"
-"Shit."
-"But he was handsome, I guess."
-"Guess your last view will be nice, at least."
-"Shit, how do I even excuse myself for that ? I can't go to the base and say "sorry I sent a Shrek cake, but it was a mistake can you let me in ?"
-"I guess you just say it," a man says.
-You gulp when you recognize the Captain who ordered you the cake.
-"Sir, I'm so sorry, I swear it's not on purpose, I just mixed two orders and..."
-"And you made my boys laugh after a rough mission."
-"oh."
-"So thanks. Of course, it was not what I planned for a birthday, but seeing them happy was nice."
-"You're..welcome, I guess ?"
-He smiles.
-"But don't ever do another pregnant Shrek when I order from you, next time, please."
-"Next time ?"you say surprised.
-"It was delicious, I don't plan to change a good baker," he smiles.
And that's how you gain a regular after offering a pregnant Shrek cake. (even though each time he sees green on your hand, he seems scared when he takes the box.)
S O A P :
- He drew you like Gollum.
- I know, it sounds horrible, let me explain.
- You needed money, and you offered your services as a model for art classes.
- Soap was one of the students.
- During his leaves, he often took art classes to relax.
- And usually it goes well.
- But when he saw you....he thought he could never do justice to your face.
- He felt so self-conscious about his skills that he ended up doing a horrible portrait of you.
- And it could have ended up here, but the teacher decided to show everyone's pieces of art to analyze them
- So you saw Soap's piece where you looked like Gollum.
- And you knew it was from him.
- Everyone has a smile, while he was terrified.
- Usually, he's self-confident, but it's on the battlefield, in his life. The art was the only place where he was not sure he belonged too.
- At the end of the classes, he decided to talk to you.
- "I'm sorry for what happened today, I felt anxious and I ended up doing a bad portrait. It doesn't look like you at all."
- You looked up at him and smiled.
- "Why do you apologize? It was fun to see me like this, plus you need to start somewhere, no? You can't be a fucking Leonardo Da Vinci from the first day."
- He was too stunned to speak.
- "John or Johnny," he said.
- You looked at him confused.
- "Name's John, sorry, it seems you really blew my mind."
- You chuckled. "Nice to meet you, John. Hope next time your mind will be more confused for the next class."
- He nodded.
- Wait, did you say the next class? But it was nude models…
- Hope he won't draw a stick figure this time.
R U D Y
- You were an author.
- Well, it was not your main job since you only sold four books this year, but you considered yourself an author.
- And you had a hater. Someone who left a hateful review on each of your books.
- You knew that the next day after publishing your book, he would leave a bad review.
- So when your boss at the library told you that someone was regularly buying your books, you knew it could only be this hater, since the other person who bought your books was your mom.
- And you had had a bad day. So when your boss told you he was there, you were about to confront this hater.
- Maybe to understand what he didn't like or to know if he was just a coward.
- So you strode towards the spot your boss pointed at.
- "Hey, you," you said, not sure what to add after. When the man raised his head, he looked fit, and you knew you couldn't stand a chance in a fight if he decided to fight.
- "Wait, are you the author Y/N?" Rudy asked, with a sparkle in his eyes.
- Wait... A sparkle?
- "Hm, yeah, it's me," you answered, not sure what was happening.
- "I love your work. Your last book was really amazing. I have followed you since your debut."
- Your mouth was open, because :
1. one, your mom had lied to you when she told you she had bought three copies of your book.
2. And second, you had your first fan in front of you.
- "Thanks," you almost said, tears of joy welling up. "Sorry if I sound harsh. I thought you were that hater."
- "Oh yeah, I saw those reviews on your page. He's always there, but don't worry, I'll leave positive reviews to balance it. I'm Rudy, by the way."
- "Nice to meet you, and thanks for loving my work."
- "No need to thank me. I just appreciate good books."
- "What's your favorite, if I may ask?"
- Rudy smiled, and you both started chatting about books that afternoon. Maybe your reviews would improve after this, not just because of your writing, but also because he found you stunning.
G H O S T :
- Ghost scared people on the battlefield.
- However, the people who were most scared of him were the mechanics on the base.
- Ghost was a horrible driver, and everyone knew that.
- So, each time he went to the mechanics, they knew it was because he had done horrible damage to the cars.
- A game was organized whenever Ghost approached – you played rock, paper, scissors, and the loser had to fix his car.
- However, you were new to the base.
- When you saw this guy standing and waiting, you went to him without realizing all this.
- But when you saw his car, you understood why no one else was coming.
- He had a bowling ball in the trunk, the roof was broken, all the windows were shattered, and one tire was burnt.
- "...did you take this on the battlefield?" you asked.
- "No." He said shortly.
- You blinked. "Then why is it in this condition?"
- "There was a grandma on the road."
- "...so, because of a grandma, you have a bowling ball in your trunk?"
- "Because I swerved to avoid her and ended up hitting a bowling alley."
- "How did you even get a driver's license?"
- "The examiner was too sick to see me again for the ninth time, so he just gave it to me."
- "I guess I'll fix your car, but please don't drive if you don't need to, sir."
- "Sure."
- The next day, he was there again with a hole in the car because of a bird. How ? You didn't know.
-But it seemed you had become his official mechanic without even knowing it.
G A Z :
- When he hears your voice in a café, he recognizes you.
- The problem is, he can't come to you.
- Because if he knows your voice, it's because of your streams.
- Your ASMR streams.
- Being a soldier means your sleep schedule isn't really regular, and to help himself sleep, Gaz discovered ASMR.
- He found out about your streams, then your Patreon, and... let's just say your ASMR is spicy.
- So yes, if he says he's a fan of yours, it implies he has to reveal he listens to that in front of his teammates.
- And he's not ashamed of it.
- But he doesn't want Price to know he likes spicy ASMR, just like he wouldn't want to know what Price's fantasies are, or what Ghost likes in bed.
- (He wants to forget Soap's idea about Ghost in pink lingerie and a thong, and the day Price wore latex pants.)
- It's a line he doesn't want to cross.
- But he's also your biggest fan.
- So he tries to walk near you.
- But you're with a friend.
- And he doesn't know if your friend knows about this.
- So he ends up just glancing at you.
- Shit, how does he approach someone who does +18 things, without saying he knows they do this?
- Maybe if he waves... or just says hello? Or maybe if he asks for a selfie or…
- "Are you trying to imitate Ghost?" Soap asks.
- "What? No. Why do you say that?!" Gaz says, looking away.
- "Because you're staring at this person like they killed your dad and ate your mom, then burned your house and kidnapped your dog."
- "...it was really detailed for a scenario," Gaz says, confused.
- "So?"
- "I just know them, but I don't want to disturb them." Gaz says, trying to lie and tell the truth at the same time.
- If Soap finds out the truth, he'll never hear the end of it.
- "Do you want me to call them?"
- "NO. Absolutely not, don't do this, mate."
- "Why not?"
- Because they'll think you listen to their spicy ASMR audios, he wants to say, but he remains quiet.
- God, he feels like a teenager.
- But suddenly, he sees you walking towards them.
- You sit next to them, and... you wink at him, pointing to his key ring on his bag.
- It's your merch.
- Meaning... you know he's a fan.
- "Thanks for supporting me," you whisper before returning to your friend.
- Gaz doesn't speak until he gets back to base, too embarrassed but also too happy.
K E E G A N :
- You were tired.
- The rush had finally ended. It was now 11 PM, and there was this one client who had just ordered 10 Happy Meals.
- You wanted to slap him. He had ordered at 22:57, and the fast food closed at 23:00.
- So you didn't have a choice but to serve him.
- You looked at your colleague, who was sighing, and you nodded.
- You were preparing the trays, ready to see 10 kids running around and getting everything dirty, but…
- It was only one man with a mask.
- When you saw him, you were ready to raise your hands and give him money. Why the heck would a man with a gun and a mask be at a McDonald's at 23:00 buying 10 Happy Meals?
- But he just took them and ate.
- One after another.
- In silence.
- In five minutes.
- And then he left.
- You looked at your colleague.
- "Guess it's as weird as people who order a burger without buns," your colleague said.
- You nodded and thought it was just the one weird client of the day.
- But every Wednesday, he was there, in silence.
- Maybe he hated Ronald McDonald, so he planned to run out of your stock of Happy Meals?
- Or maybe he collected the toys?
- You didn't know, but he was there.
- And you saw him eating those nuggets and fries without sauce.
- He didn't touch his drinks. My, how dry it must be.
- But one Wednesday you took a day off. So when you came back the next day, you joked with your colleague about the Happy Meal guy.
- But they didn't laugh.
- "Who?" they asked.
- And just like that, you realized that when you weren't there, the Happy Meal guy wasn't there either.
- You were scared.
- Maybe he thought buying Happy Meals seduced you, or it was his way of warning you before he would kill you, like a threat, "You'll end up like those nuggets."
- So, when you saw him enter, you sent your colleague.
- However, your manager decided to give you your break at that moment, meaning it would be only you and him in the place.
- You tried to act normally, but you noticed how he seemed not to like his food yet still ate it.
- You sighed and sat next to him, offering him some sauces.
- "It's better with these. You know, you can have them for free in the menu next time."
- He looked at you and nodded.
- He then tried it and smiled.
- That's when you noticed his dog tags.
- "We have a discount for military personnel, so you could take a real meal instead of a Happy Meal if you want to."
- He looked surprised and nodded.
- Next time, he ordered 2 Happy Meals and two regular menus.
- So you smiled.
- Until his other masked colleagues ordered 20 Happy Meals because they liked the skull toys in them.
- Maybe it was just military men who had a problem with Happy Meals.
If you want more : my COD masterlist
And my masterlist
#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#price x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#rudy parra x reader#rudy x reader#soap x reader#captain price x reader
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thoughts on angel's heartbreak
viv has already said that angel is gonna get his heart broken sooo
i imagine husk pushes a boundary. we've already seen husk push angel's limits quite a few times. he's obviously really judgmental and i think that's one of his biggest flaws. it almost seems like a defense mechanism, that because he's already given up on himself, he doesn't want to waste angel's potential and so he's harder on him.
we've got tons of examples of this in masquerade, with husk calling him fake. and even in welcome to heaven when angel is considering taking drugs, husk totally plays a guilt trip - "go ahead if you wanna mess up all your progress, i just thought you were better than that"
i think that's how the 'heartbreak' is gonna happen. angel can't believe he's got a someone like husk in his life and he's so smitten, coming to terms with his feelings for husk and tentatively getting hopeful that they're reciprocated. like husk has built him up enough to the point that angel feels he can break down his walls around him, so they're getting closer, more flirtatious in a really sweet way, sometimes even a little touchy.
so imagine them being at this stage, where angel so fully trusts him, which is a big deal for him. and then angel fucks up real bad. he's been clean for almost 6 months and him and everyone else in the hotel are super proud. but after a hard day in the studio he just breaks and goes on an all night bender. like he's out so late husk starts to worry and texts him, but all he gets is a belligerent phone call like "huskYYY BAaaby don' worry i'm jus' out w the girls from the studio u should be here miss yoo-" and then some guy cuts in like "angelbaby, i thought you were gonna show me a good time?" and angel's like "mmm oh ya cmere daddy~" and the call cuts off.
husk is fuckin pissed, not just bc angel is off the wagon after making so much progress, but he's also jealous. like they were obviously heading in the direction of something more, or so he thought, but here's angel back to his old self-destructive habits, getting fucked up and fucking random guys.
the next day, husk finds angel passed out on the on the couch. usually he would wake him up with breakfast or coffee if he knew he'd had a long night at the studio, but this time he just rolls his eyes and gets to work on the bar, maybe stuffing glasses back into cabinets a little louder than usual.
that wakes angel up and he's like, "huuusk what the fuck couldya keep it down?"
"it's almost noon. don't you have something to do? or someone..." he mumbles the last part, but angel hears and is wide awake like, "fuckin' excuse me?"
"what? you don't remember callin' me last night? sounded like you scored a real charmer"
angel is stalking up to the bar getting embarrassed and defensive, "wtf? since when do you care who i'm fuckin' in my free time?"
"i guess since it obviously wasn't a choice you made entirely sober! what were you thinking?! you were clean 6 whole months, and you gave it up to what? snort coke off of some hunk's abs?!"
angel's mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to say but his heart stings. he knows he fucked up real bad, but it was a hard day and he guesses old habits die hard... it's his first real attempt at getting clean, and of course he's disappointed in himself. and honestly, he was planning on talking through it with husk, but now...
"well that is just rich coming from you," angel says, shaking, rolling his eyes in the direction of husk's bloody mary.
"yeah, well, i'm not the one trying to get into heaven-"
"fuck off with that shit husk! you don't think i know i fucked up?! i'm not an idiot! you don't gotta keep that line in your back pocket for every time i screw up! i already know it's fuckin' pointless, you don't need to keep reminding me, asshole, get over yourself!" and he starts storming off upstairs, eyes welling up.
husk does feel guilty, and wants to continue the conversation, but he's still firmly of the belief that if angel just pulls himself together, he's a shoo-in for redemption and it's frustrating to see him self-destruct after making more progress than ever before.
"angel, wait-"
"NO, fuck you husk!" angel turns around, tears streaming down his face, pointing an accusing finger. "i thought if anyone could understand, it'd be you! i know everyone else is gonna be disappointed in me, but you-" he pauses, gulps down his tears and steels his face, "i guess i don't know you as well as i thought i did" and then storms upstairs.
then angel would have a few consecutive weeks of totally self-destructive behavior on a whole new level than anyone else at the hotel had ever seen. maybe he even moves out of the hotel and back in with val, having given up not only on himself and his grand delusions of getting clean and redeemed, but also his "stupid school-girl crush" on husk.
this turned into something way longer than i intended lol, but my point is that since angel is gonna experience heartbreak we know it has to involve husk, and with husk's habit of guilt-tripping angel... i think it will need to blow up at some point and be seriously discussed.
i also think we need to see the 'it gets worse before it gets better' side of recovery bc obviously it's unrealistic that now that angel is a serious resident of the hotel, his addictions are just gonna magically disappear. and i think that's gonna cause some misunderstanding and turmoil with not only husk, but also our main cast.
#hazbin hotel#huskerdust#angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#angel dust x husk#husk x angel dust#writing#thoughts
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Hello??! Sub!Leon??? Absolutely sign me the fuck up. Ok ok so. Hear me out.
First time, the absolute first time Leon has a prostate orgasm, he fucking cries. Either pegging, dick or fingering, the moment he feels that specific part inside of him get touched, he sees fucking stars.
This dude goes full hentai shit. His eyes roll back, he’s drooling, his tongue is hanging out, he’s babbling uselessly. His brain literally can’t comprehend how good he feels because of it!
I’d imagine that Leon also gets vocal. More vocal than ever. Normally he’s a quiet guy. Maybe some moaning and grunts but when your rubbing his prostate? Yea he’s speaking another language. Dude is Italian American, imagine if he starts speaking fucking Italian. HE doesn’t even understand what he’s saying, he’s just repeating words he heard from his parents growing up.
His voice is also an octave higher. He tries to cover his mouth at first, but it’s useless. He becomes a crying, moaning, babbling bitch.
I’d also imagine Leon’s thighs shake when he cums. Oh and he cums HARD. He actually forgets how to breathe for a bit because of the orgasm slamming into him.
And afterwords? Woah mama. He’s beautiful, breathing heavily, tears and drool marking his pretty face. Just…Mwuah~ <3
MDNI/18+. NSFW
Hey there anon! Thank you so much for the message, I’ll be glad to sign you up to the Sub! Leon fan club. Yes I’m totally listening, putting my ear real close to you right now.
I think the first time he cums like that, it will probably change his whole life and literally give his brain a hard reset. Like sure, he’s had good orgasms before, but never something that made black spots come into his vision, or something that made his legs shake the way they’re currently doing on the mattress. He never thought that sex could feel so good, and experiencing that much relief would genuinely be something that he’ll continue to ask for in the safety of another person who can provide that for him.
The way his mind just fizzles out when it happens, how there isn’t a single thought that goes through his head. It takes him off guard, how it’s just static between his ears and he’s stuck in a daze. For the first time in his life he’s not thinking about his trauma, about missions, about anything. His head is just empty and he loves it, and he finds himself someplace far away and wants to stay there for a while longer. To me, Leon is a sentimental guy, he’d be the type to cry during sex cause he’s clingy and affectionate. But when he’s the one on the receiving end, it makes him feel safe, and having someone who helps to genuinely make him feel good and focuses on his pleasure, he’ll be more inclined to cry from the release of it.
Poor baby is so pent up that the moment he cums he can feel his whole body shake from it. It starts from his thighs which nearly cramp from how hard they flex, and a chill runs down from his calves and to the balls of his feet. His toes will curl a little bit and his fingers will dig into the bed sheets, and he swears he feels his ears ringing from the force of it. He just starts mumbling under his breath, trying to get his heartbeat back to normal and is saying things like I love you in such a whiney voice that it doesn’t even sound like him. He’s babbling and saying anything that comes to mind as any logic just leaves him permanently. Tears down his face, drool running out of his mouth, face all red, he’s a damn mess but he’s your pretty mess. He’s so hypersensitive that any little movement or touch makes him jolt the slightest bit, and it’s almost embarrassing but he doesn’t have the brain power to give a fuck considering how good he feels.
You’d probably have to spend some time bringing him back to reality, praising him and kissing him over his body gently to calm him down. Leon would be so clingy afterwards, just wants to put his head on your chest and let you run your fingers through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear that will ease him to sleep in 3 minutes flat. It’ll be the best he’s slept in a while too, getting a full 8 hours at least, just feeling warm and satisfied. And when you look down at him, there’s a small smile on his face as he sleeps, like he’s dreaming of something good and not having a nightmare, kissing his forehead as he dozes off with his limbs wrapped around you. You fuck him good and you baby him after, that’s what he likes and what he craves, and of course, you’re more than happy to provide.
Also, the fact that you said he’d start speaking Italian was so fucking funny, it made me chuckle. Very real. 😭
#ovaryacted asks#sub leon kennedy#sub leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy headcanons#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#GET THE STRAP#no but this is about to be my trademark lmfao#I love thinking and talking about this tho#Leon deserves to be fucked good and babied after#you ate this up anon#like wow your brain is so big
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