#she will not start a fight but she is willing to finish one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghoulphile · 7 months ago

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sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position.

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.”

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic

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lady-ashfade · 11 months ago

Text

Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special.

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

#disney plus percy jackson #plantonic percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #yandere percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #platonic #yandere #grover underwood x reader #yandere annabeth chase #annabeth chase x reader #annabeth chase #grover underwood #yandere Grover underwood #yandere greek gods #yandere annabeth chase x reader #I stand peter Johnson

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aealzx · 4 months ago

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(This one is pretty long info dumping. Warning: mention of mild gore)

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Prologue

Previous Next

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With the state of the one named Danny, the safehouse Barbara directed the group to was one that was a little more well stocked than the others. It was only because of Jazz that they were able to reach it, being the one to accept all of them being blindfolded after Jason had suggested they could hold each other’s hands the whole time and let the rest of his team put the blindfolds on. It made walking a little awkward with Jazz firmly hanging onto her unconscious brother’s hand, but it was an annoyance Jason was willing to accept for the comfort it gave them. It was only when they were in a room without windows that they took the blindfolds off, and pulled chairs over for the kids to sit on.

“Don’t touch me,” Sam hissed when Cass took her arm to start cleaning a cut she had, snatching her limb back and glaring.

“If it gets infected and you get sick then you’ll have one more of your team in need of care. That seems detrimental to your state of affairs,” Damian commented after catching sight of Cass’ sad expression.

“Robin,” Tim hissed, not wanting to stress this group of teenagers out more than they already were.

“He’s not wrong,” Jason interjected, keeping a hold of Danny not only because there was only one table open that he’d directed Stephanie to set Danielle on, but also because he knew the others would behave better with their seriously injured friend in obvious custody. “You guys should take care of yourselves too, otherwise no one will be left to look out for him.”

It was effective. Sam flinched before lowering her head and hunching her shoulders like a scolded puppy, then offered her arm back to Cass.

“Dude,” Tucker protested weakly, but didn’t say anything else and aso looked to Tim to accept his own check up. He had to wait for Tim to stop facepalming first though, a heaved sign from him before he decided not to further comment on his two brothers’ unnecessarily blunt comments.

“Are you feeling a little better sweetie? Sorry we roughed you up so much, but you were quite the fighter and it was hard to deal with you,” Stephanie decided to also ignore her brothers, resting Danielle on the table while Dick was clearing the other.

At first Danielle was about to be snarky about whose fault it was that she wasn’t feeling okay, but Stephanie’s expert inclusion about her fighting ability effectively changed her thought process. “Heheeh. And don’t you forget it,” Danielle chimed with a proud giggle. “I’m feeling much better now. Thanks for carrying me all the way.”

“No problem! Thanks for listening to your sister and not fighting us again,” Stephanie returned. “Jazz said you’re different from the others. Do you need anything? It doesn’t look like you’re injured anymore.”

“I heal fast, so I’m okay. But do you have any food? We haven’t really gotten much lately,” Danielle asked shamelessly. She didn’t need any bandaids or antiseptic like the others, but fights had still taken a lot of energy on top of being short supply of food for the past few months. If they were willing to finally give her a good meal then she was going to take advantage of it.

“Sure thing,” Stephanie giggled, appreciating the honesty. “I’ll be right back,” she bid, leaving Danielle on the table and heading to another room where they kept food supplies.

Letting Stephanie pass by them, Jason shifted towards the remaining table where Dick was finishing clearing the surface of spare parts and supplies. “Get two blankets, he’s cold as ice,” Jason directed Dick, the concern in his voice being the only hit to his hidden expression.

“...Still breathing?” Dick asked after obediently pulling a thick blanket from a nearby cupboard and spreading it on the table first. They were both keeping their voices on the quieter side, letting Stephanie and Tim take care of keeping the other three occupied. Jazz was the only one staying near them, having not let go of Danny’s hand just yet.

“Yeah, it’s weak though,” Jason confirmed, carefully setting Danny down and helping Dick spread the second blanket over him. “How long has he been like this?”

That question was directed to Jazz, who pursed her lips both in reluctance to answer and to fight back more tears. “Since we got here. He collapsed and hasn’t woken up since,” she admitted, almost a whisper.

“What?” Dick smothered his outburst so the others didn’t notice, but couldn’t keep it quiet completely. “He’s been comatose for months without life support?”

Jazz flinched and shrank back slightly at the outburst, but Jason rested a hand on her shoulder to keep her from fleeing. They needed her to talk if they wanted to be able to help them. “He’s not a regular human, remember?” he reminded Dick, speaking up to try and help Jazz feel a little less interrogated.

Jazz didn’t offer any further information, just pulled her gaze back to look up at Dick, lip wavering despite her trying to keep a defiant expression. She wasn’t looking for pity, but she wasn’t good enough at pretending to be a tough girl that Dick didn’t notice her distress. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to... I know you were doing your best,” he apologized, pulling back a little as well.

“Dr. Thompkins has reached you guys. Penny-one opted to call her after hearing Danny's initial condition,” Barbara’s report came over all of their comms, able to keep tabs on everyone through secure video feeds of the inside and outside of the safehouse. And as each of her team members got DNA samples from their captive rescuees she was also starting an identity analysis for each of them in the background.

“Robin?”

That was all Dick had to say, calling to the youngest who was leaning against the frame of the only door. Damian simply raised his hand in a brief acknowledging wave before he left to let Leslie inside. As he left Stephanie returned a moment after, a plate of warmed up frozen burritos in her hands and a bag of bottled water over her shoulder. The bag caught Jason’s eye, and he moved over momentarily to grab one of the bottles and bring it to Jazz.

“Our medical contact has arrived. We’ll have her look at your brother first. Just make sure you stay hydrated,” he commented, handing her the bottle and letting her open it so she could see it was still sealed and therefore wasn’t contaminated. If that was even a concern that crossed her mind. It was starting to quickly seem like these kids weren’t criminals at all, and many of them were starting to have a hard time treating them as such.

“...Thanks,” Jazz responded, taking a moment to be willing to let go of Danny to open the bottle. It was much needed, and she ended up drinking half of it before lowering it again.

Jason watched her for a moment, noting how tense she was and her reluctance to speak with them. He couldn’t blame her for being secretive, having no idea what had driven them to where they had been. But he couldn’t help notice it was strange they were all still distrusting of the group they were with. Didn’t they know Batman’s group of birds were a trustworthy lot? Were they still hiding something illegal? Or maybe… they simply didn’t recognize them. Where were these kids from? “Before the Doctor gets here, I just want to strongly recommend that you don’t keep anything from her, alright? I know it’s scary to reveal things about your brother to a stranger, but the more she knows the better she can help. Got it?”

Jazz looked up at him at the half request half demand, eyes trying to see him beyond the mask as she considered his words. She hadn’t thought about that yet, being so used to keeping everything about what Danny was a secret from everyone. But what Jason said made sense, and she wasn’t going to risk Danny not getting better just to stay paranoid. Two months was a long time for them to have tried to figure things out for themselves, only to have every attempt fail. But if there was one thing they’d all learned in the past months, it seemed ghosts were practically nonexistent in Gotham. So perhaps there was much less risk than back home. “...Okay,” Jazz agreed, giving a small nod.

“This way Doctor. The young meta is over there,” Damian was quick to return, refraining from entering the room for a moment in favor of allowing Leslie to get by, but still gesturing his open palm towards the group of four to the right side of the room from the entrance.

“Thank you, Robin,” Leslie responded, stepping into the room and heading over to them. She didn’t sound too happy to be there. But considering the circumstances it was hard to be joyful about it. She did end up pausing when she laid eyes on Danny though, momentarily taken aback. “If I didn’t know any better I’d be questioning your ability to tell when someone was still alive,” she commented, looking at Dick and Jason for a moment before setting her medical case on the edge of the table with a small sigh. “Let’s take a look. What kind of injury is under the wrappings, dear?”

Her voice had softened, being able to recognize each of the kids who were there from the rundown Barbara had given her on the way there. As she gathered her tools Jazz watched her, hesitantly nudging herself to respond honestly. “...Burns,” she said quietly, willing herself to move as she saw Leslie pull out some scissors to cut the bandages with. “From here to here,” Jazz added, rising from the stool to gesture the entirety of Danny’s left side of his torso, and onto his shoulder somewhat.

“Thank you, dear,” Leslie hummed, slipping the scissors under the bandages on the opposite side to make sure she didn’t aggravate any of the injuries. It only took a moment to cut through the stolen wrappings, and then she was very gingerly peeling them away.

Jazz still felt nauseous whenever she saw the blaster inflicted burns marring a good portion of her little brother’s body, and was glad she was already sitting. Leslie didn’t seem too phased though, simply humming once the wounds were revealed even as Dick and Jason made tense noises. “Hmm. Those are definitely third degree,” Leslie commented, slowly cutting away the rest of the bandages around Danny’s shoulder. But then she noticed something unusual that caused her to look closer. The tissue that wasn’t destroyed appeared irritated, as if exposed to an allergen or poison. “What caused them?” she asked, looking closely.

“...A shot from a Blood blossom blaster,” Jazz almost whispered, clenching her hand as the memory of her brother screaming when the red tinted blast had caught him in the side made her feel even more sick. She wasn’t sure if that was worse than seeing him stand up afterwards with a gaping hole in his side dripping green blood. At least in his ghost form there hadn’t been much to see in terms of insides. But after having expended all his energy to take out the GIW’s machines he hadn’t had any left to heal, and the injuries had carried over his human half.

“Wait, you said third degree?” Sam suddenly spoke up, the whole room having stopped conversations when Leslie had come in. “You can’t see his ribs anymore?” she continued, standing up and intending to check for herself before Cass stepped in her way.

“Don’t interfere. You’ll get in the way,” Cass directed, holding her hands out to block Sam’s path and ignoring the glare directed at her.

Tucker made a gagging noise at the question, covering his mouth for a moment. “Dude, could you not remind me of that?”

So Sam wasn’t just being dramatic? Dick and his team ended up looking at Jazz when they heard her draw a breath of realization, turning from Sam back to check for herself. “Oh-... Oh thank goodness. You’re right,” she breathed, sagging to her knees and letting out a sob of relief. “We were right. He is still healing.”

It was a strange thing to hear, but for the first time since they’d caught them Sam actually gained a small smile. Danielle also ended up giving a short giggle too, kicking her legs once. “Told you,” she commented.

It was admittedly a very confusing conversation, but Dick had to just remind himself once again that Danny wasn’t completely human. Following Cass’ lead, Dick gently helped pull Jazz back to the stool she’d been on. “Let’s keep out of the Doctor’s way,” he suggested.

“Can you guys explain a little more though?” Tim spoke up now, trying to piece together everything that had been hinted at. Apparently Danny had actually had fourth degree burns, but they had healed despite him not having proper medical care other than clean dressings, and having been asleep for months. “I’m having a difficult time understanding how he’s not…. in worse condition,” he added, catching himself from being too blunt like his siblings had been before.

“You mean how he’s not dead?” This time it was Danielle that was strangely blunt with a calmness that made the others think she didn’t fully understand what she was saying. “That’s easy. He and I are both halfas. It’s harder to kill someone who’s already half dead.”

Tim’s brow twitched, and Jason didn’t miss the few glances taken at him. He doubted they were the same as him, considering he unfortunately couldn’t phase through solid objects or fly like they had seen Danielle do many times already.

“Halfas?” Stephanie repeated, pulling her gaze from Jason and looking back to Danielle.

“It’s short for half human half ghost,” Sam answered, as though it was an obvious connection to make.

“Yup. See,” Danielle confirmed, pushing off the table midmorph and floating in the air instead of landing on the floor as her now stark white hair wisped gently in a soft wind unfelt by anyone else. It didn’t look like much of a change other than she had different hair and eye colors now. But it definitely felt different. That eerie skin crawling sensation that people usually associated with ghosts that almost never actually existed.

‘...Huh, I guess it’s kind of like Captain Marvel, but with their ghost half as the other side,’ Tim thought after a moment of consideration after watching Danielle. “And being halfas give you guys accelerated healing, but… Danny’s is… hindered?” he asked next, clarifying that they were on the same page.

The nod from Danielle turned into a grimace, and she floated back to sit on the table once more. “Something like that. We have to have enough energy for it to work, and he used up a lot. This place kinda sucks too. There’s no natural portals to the Ghost Zone, and no ecto hot spots that we can gather energy from either.”

“The closest supplement we could find that we thought would work was the Lazarus water. But after getting a hold of some we decided we shouldn’t risk using it,” Jazz added, feeling the despair starting to sink into her shoulders again.

“Yeah, that stuff is freaky bad. I only took a little bit and it was horrible,” Danielle agreed, shuddering and wrapping her arms around her knees.

The others weren’t sure how to answer that fully, most of them being lost in thought about the unfamiliar data they’d been given. Eventually Jason shifted with a short comment. “We’re not too fond of the stuff either,” he huffed, then switched his gaze back to Leslie. “Have you finished looking him over?”

While they had been discussing half ghosts Leslie had continued her exam and treatment of Danny, having cleansed the obvious injuries, rebandaged them with Dick’s help, and added a simple saline IV, oxygen mask, and heart monitor. When Jason addressed her she was making notes about her results. “Mm. Aside from the burns it looks like he’s been exposed to an allergen or toxin as well,” she began, turning to face them.

“That’s the blood blossoms. They’re poison to ghosts,” Jazz supplied quickly, then looked apologetic for interrupting.

Leslie didn’t seem to mind though, just nodding and continuing her report. “There’s also the expected signs of malnutrition. If the human half still needs regular human nutrients then Vitamin IV therapy would be of benefit. The strange part is it looks like all of his bodily functions are significantly slowed, similar to that of cryogenic stasis. That could explain why he’s still alive after so long.”

“That also explains why he feels like an ice cube,” Jason noted, “Could you tell what’s causing it?”

“It seems to be self generated. I imagine this ‘meta’ potentially has ice related abilities,” Leslie answered. None of the teens said anything, but their tight lipped reactions and expressions of sudden understanding were enough to confirm Leslie’s guess.

“Do you have the details of the Vitamin IV needed? We can get that brought here,” Dick requested, moving closer to Leslie to look over her shoulder at the notes she’d taken. Leslie just shifted the tablet slightly, letting Dick get a good look since it seemed he was trying to formulate the next steps of action.

“Alright, it looks like everyone is stable for now. We’ll keep two people here at a time to keep an eye on everyone, and make sure people get fed and taken care of. Unfortunately none of you are allowed near any of our technology still, so we can see about bringing you some books or something to keep from being bored,” Dick started to plan out, giving a sympathetic shake of his head when Sam and Tucker groaned about not being let near technology. Jazz felt like it was fair enough, she wouldn't trust them either and at least they were going to make sure they had food and water. Plus they seemed to be pretty serious about taking care of Danny. Even after learning about the unique difficulties in his condition they hadn’t abandoned them yet. “The rest of us will work on getting the rest of what Danny needs, that we know of so far. Something to neutralize the blood blossom residue, IV vitamins, and ectoplasm. Does anyone else have any unique needs?”

At that point Sam raised her hand, letting Dick gesture to her before speaking up. “Vegetarian,” she said simply.

“Not a problem. I’ll make sure everyone in charge of food knows.” Dick nodded, noticing how Damian very subtly gained a smile about that. “Do any of you have a picture, or description of the blood blossom plants? It doesn’t sound like anything I’m familiar with.”

“The only ones we’ve seen look like rosebuds, red with black leaves and stems,” Sam spoke again, seeming to be more favorable to them now. The same care for Danny that was winning Jazz over was winning the rest of the team as well.

“Got it,” Dick nodded, gaining a pleased smile when Leslie also passed over a sample of the blood blossom affected tissue that she had taken from Danny before covering the wounds again. A tiny sample encased in glass, but it should be more than enough for them to figure out how to neutralize the remainder of the toxin without hurting the lad further. “Orphan, Spoiler, are you okay with taking the first shift?”

“Sure thing,” Stephanie agreed, giving a thumbs up along with Cass.

“I’ll stick around too for now,” Jason added, for no other reason that he felt like he should stay there for a while. At least until they knew for sure who these Phantom kids were.

Dick seemed surprised, but didn’t argue. “Fine. Keep in touch, we’ll let you know as soon as we find anything,” he nodded, motioning for those who weren’t staying to head out. He knew Leslie would stay to double check their work on the other kids, so it ended up being just him, Tim, and Damian filtering out the door.

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I actually had this one all typed out before I even started the prologue one. So I just had to draw something today to get it all up.

Drawing this I looked up canon heights for the first time and found out that Danny is a tiny lil nugget, and that's adorable X'D

I also complained to Na about "having to draw Jason's stupid helmet instead of his pretty face" and she gave me the suggestion of having his face on the side.

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai

#my art #phantom rogues #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #writing #long post #fanfic #mentions of gore #tw medical devices

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makelemonade · 7 months ago

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how people find out you’re dating them

pt2; cyno, diluc, thoma, neuvillette

SUGGESTIVE

Cyno

He probably keeps it a secret for 2 weeks until Candace, Alhaitham and Tighnari sniff it out- literally. But in the end it’s not them who find out it’s you.

His jokes change.

Like, insanely.

There’s no more horrible puns- well, there are sometimes, but his humour starts to change to multiple different types of jokes and Candace is the first to notice.

She has been at his side for YEARS protecting the desert so when she actually laughs at his joke for the first time her heart literally drops from shock because did she actually just laugh!!?!?! At CYNO’S JOKE?!

She brings it up with Alhaitham and Tighnari and even they are surprised and of course because they’re nosy people, they decide to figure it out.

Alhaitham keeps an eye on Cyno whenever he’s in the Akademiya for work. He noticed the way Cyno is always in a rush which before he never was. It’s almost like Cyno has something to do, he thinks.

That’s when he realizes and brings up the idea to them that what if cyno is seeing someone? Tighnari feels a little betrayed knowing they are best friends and that cyno tells him everything but he does slightly agree with the theory.

He agrees with the theory once he smells expensive products on cyno. Cyno used to never once care about his hair or how nice he smelled given the fact he’s in the desert a lot but he smells a lotion on him one day and realizes that 100% Cyno is seeing someone.

They just have no idea who.

One day they’re talking about it in Alhaitham’s office within the Akademiya, and Nahida comes in one day.

“What are you all talking about?” She asks innocently, eyes peering up at all of them as she hops on Alhaitham’s desk to sit on.

“We think cyno is seeing someone.” Alhaitham answered.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh right! Y/N!”

“We don’t kno- wait what?” Candace stares at her shocked.

Nahida just giggled. “He dreams about her a lot.”

They all immediately run out of the office and nahida starts to think maybe she shouldn’t have revealed that.

Diluc

kaeya.

For months now people have noticed that Diluc was taking less time at the bar and was always rushing to get home. He was more talkative and he was even fighting less with Kaeya.

It creeped Kaeya out if we’re being honest here.

So one night you’re hanging out with Kaeya and Venti at the bar while Diluc is working and it’s a pleasant night for you all!

Venti was singing, strumming the lyre! Kaeya was making jokes and Diluc was laughing at them! It was- wait what?

Kaeya doesn’t realize until later that night that Diluc laughed at one of his jokes.

At the end of the night you tell the others you’re going to stay and help Diluc clean up since Charles was off for the night and they pay no attention to it. Kaeya doesn’t either- the only thing he wants is answers.

So one hour after closing, Kaeya bursts into the bar thinking you’d finished helping up Diluc and you were already gone.

But instead he found you bent over the bar, skirt PUSHED up and Diluc right behind you and Kaeya immediately turns back around, knowing his question was already answered.

Of course he immediately tells venti, but not what he saw. He does not want anyone knowing he ever witnessed that even if it was for 0.5 seconds.

Thoma

He starts to deny his help whenever people in the city ask him for something and it’s so shocking that it reaches Ayato through gossip and he HAS to talk to Ayaka about it.

Thoma is an incredible and amazing man; he’s always willing to help out anyone and everyone at every second so of course it’s a shock when he starts denying and is rushing home.

“Is something wrong with him? Is he upset? Is he sick?!” Ayaka has never seen Ayato panic like this about his best friend.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Ayaka giggled. “Maybe he’s just realized that his kindness is taken much advantage of. Personally I think it’s great.”

“Or he has someone to return home to every night.”

Both the siblings yelped and their swords were out in an instant, pointing at whoever snuck into their conversation.

Miko was unphased, putting both her hands on the swords and lowering them. “Apologies, it wasn’t my intention to sneak up but it was surely my intention to eavesdrop.” She grinned.

The weapons were away in an instant and Ayaka started to question. “What do you mean someone to come home to?”

“Have you not noticed his need to rush his duties everyday?” Miko asked, and giggled when both the siblings looked at each other with a “no I have not” face. “Wow; I hardly ever see him and even I know of his current actions! Well, if you two are really so keen on trying to figure out what’s ‘wrong’ with him; he has a lover. A secret one, at that, and it seems as if he just really wants to spend the night with them after a long day of work. I’d assume his lover is Y/N, the one who works for me. You have noticed his frequent trips to the shrine, haven’t you?”

The two siblings just stared at each other in shock before they were both running off in different directions; Ayato to find out any information on who you were and Ayaka running to find Thoma to demand answers.

In truth, Miko just saw the two of you kissing on your break in a hidden spot and you both still had no idea she had seen.

Neuvillette

THOSE DAMN MELUSINES.

They’re adorable; the cutest little things ever and it’s so cute how he takes care of them but you can never trust them with a secret because they will pass it on to EVERYONE.

It’s when they do their usual rotations within the buildings; Guard the doors.

In full honesty it was yours and his fault for being, well, quite loud that even though his desk was far from the doors, the Melusine’s could still hear everything and it was insanely embarrassing but they were immediately talking about it and were shocked when you walked out of his office 2 hours later, pretending it was some random meeting.

The next day, one of them- Sigewinne- comes up to him in his office and he gives her a gentle smile. “Good morning, Monsieur Neuvillette!”

“Good morning, Sigewinne. Would you like anything?” He opened one of his drawers which was full of mélusine-appropriate snacks.

Sigewinne shook her head. “No thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette! Thank you for offering! We were wondering if Mademoiselle Y/N was coming today?”

He looked at them confused. “Uhm, I believe she is for another meeting in a few hours. Why?”

“Just so then we’ll know when to give you two privacy, Monsieur Neuvillette!” Sigewinne skips away and it takes a few seconds for him to fully process what she meant and becomes mortified.

You’re insanely confused when all the melusines greet you and say hi to you and ask if you want anything when you come in.

#cyno x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x y/n #neuvillette x reader #thoma x you #thoma x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you

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procrastinationaccount · 2 months ago

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Top 10 griddlehark scenes that could have resulted in kisses, ranked by how hot it would have been if it had happened

Disclaimer: I am in no way shape or form saying that this would have made the scenes better, merely mashing them together like dolls.

10. When the gang are headed to "Dulcinea"'s sickroom on Harrow's suggestion and Gideon says she could have kissed her. Girl do it!

9. Post-avulsion, once they're back in their room - preferably, right after "Don't price your life so cheaply, Griddle." Harrow is so fucking scared and so fucking in love, and while it is adorable that she turned to anger at the trials putting them in this position she also could have put that energy into a certain cavalier! Held back by just how pained and out-of-it Gideon was. You know in the morning she would be aggressively telling herself it was a dream.

8. Speaking of things Gideon told herself were dreams, that one time Harrow woke her up from a nightmare! Underrated scene imo. She's looking at you so so softly and understandingly despite the cynicism.

7. During the battle with Cyth, after Harrow saves her flying through the air and they're both slumped on a pile of bones. Gideon just nearly died because she was too busy admiring her perpetual bone, she's so proud of her it makes everything ache, and Harrow's openly performing for her now. No time for talking or thinking, pure adrenaline, just make your move before she passes out!

6. After passing the Winnowing challenge. They are both probably the most exhilarated and turned-on they've ever been. Harrow entered her body and it was a positive interaction. It might have fully struck at least one of them dead if it had happened.

5. During the stair fight, contingent on Harrow finishing the "how dare you mock my-" sentence. Gideon called her out on jealousy, which is major fucking progress for them as far as identifying feelings. They're drained and pissed off, and it's really setting in for Harrow how willing Gideon would be to give herself away to her. Show her that you care!

4. Pre-avulsion. See lovely role-swapped example by @sinshiney here!

3. Right after Gideon tucked away that shadow-colored lock of hair. We know it, we love it, Harrow I understand but at the same time please don't talk about the Body right now. You have no idea what this will do to the next year and a half+ of your relationship.

2. First Flower Of My House. Her trembling hand is on your cheek. A beautiful little smile is on her face. She just made the most beautiful declaration of love you've ever heard in your life. You're planning on dying anyway and have nothing left to lose. Shalalalalala-my-oh-my...

Honorable mentions:

After the discovery of Dulcie's ashes, once Gideon runs to confirm that Harrow wasn't the victim in a panic. It always kills me that she calls what she would've said the other day about finding Harrow dead a "youthful" dream, but at least you're done pretending now. Wake her up and give her an update!

The hug scene. Omitted because it's perfect the way it is.

The post-pool lean-in. Omitted because Gideon's mind was already made up when she started it. Meanest thing she's ever done.

While Gideon was backed up against that pillar, right after Harrow says, "And at the end of the night, the locked tomb is me." Would it have made any sense with the trajectory of their characters? No. Would it have been hot? It would have been hot as fuck, thank you for asking.

#I'm slightly sick but tbh I'm not delirious this is just how I think #This post is my reward for getting most of my homework done today #the locked tomb #griddlehark #Tlt #Gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon the ninth spoilers #gtn spoilers

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spacerockfloater · 3 months ago

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The way the fandom and the other characters treat Aemond fills me with visceral rage.

He is the only one, save Criston, who’s still fighting for the Greens? Not only does he put all of his time into defending their cause and ruling, he is also risking his life on the daily by launching himself into battle? To win a war his mother gave the green light to? The mother who now hates him? The mother who betrays him for finishing what she started? Outrageous. Fucking outrageous.

And everyone is treating Helaena as if she is this poor little sunflower that must be protected at all costs. Uhm, fuck no? Aemond is right. Who’s going to protect her when Rhaenyra comes after them with her seven dragons? She’s no fucking child. She is an adult. Why are we infantilising her? Why should her brother fight for her if she’s not willing to fight for herself and her child? And the way she’s speaking to Aemond? Holding him accountable for burning her rapist? Their common abuser? And borderline rejoicing in his upcoming death? What the fuck.

I hate how all of the Team Green characters have been redeemed one way or another and their redemption is that they’re abandoning their claim to the throne. But Aemond is depicted as this show’s main villain simply because he’s still standing his ground? And he stands alone? Fuck everything.

Aemond Targaryen they could never make me hate you.

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lemonlover1110 · 2 months ago

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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 15] His Baby Girl Pt. 1

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji tries to get adjusted to the fact that you’re seeing Shiu. It isn’t just a plot to get back at him but no, you’re actually seeing Shiu. You’ve started to see the man romantically, and Toji can’t do anything else but sit back and watch it happen. He’s more focused on something else, his daughter.

The daughter that he told you to abort when he found out that you weren’t getting back together. He’s not sure if this was the right decision, but what he knows is that he’s excited about her presence. Nesting isn’t something that only pregnant women do, or at least Toji is getting everything set up for his baby girl.

“Megumi, did I not tell you to start using a coaster?” Toji nearly yells. Stuff he’s never worried about, and he’s sure he won’t care in a few weeks. He needs the place to be pristine, even though his daughter isn’t going to stay in the apartment.

“You know that she’s not here?” Megumi responds, taking his glass from the table and finishing the drink in one swift gulp. Megumi won’t bring up that the baby isn’t going to be staying here yet… He doesn’t want to add salt to the wound.

“She’ll be here at any moment.” Toji says, a phrase that makes his stomach churn. Any day now he expects the call from you that you’ve gone into labor, and he knows he will start freaking out as if he hasn’t gone through this before. It’s almost been fifteen years– No, Megumi’s birthday just passed, it’s been fifteen years.

“You do know she’s not going to stay with us?” Megumi replies, and Toji chuckles. He forgot to break the news to the teenager.

“She’s staying for the first two or three months.” Toji announces, which takes Megumi by surprise. He wasn’t informed of that detail. “Just while handling motherhood and whatnot… Newborns aren’t easy.”

“Uncle Shiu wasn’t available?” Megumi asks, which earns a glare from Toji. Uncle Shiu, a name that Megumi has never used up until he found out that you were seeing the man. “I mean… I’m sure he has more space and since they’re–”

“Shiu is not your uncle, don’t call him that.” Toji scolds his son, though he knows it goes in one ear and out the other. It’s Megumi’s way of getting back at his father for… Everything. “I convinced her to stay with us since I want to spend time with my daughter. They’re staying in my bedroom.”

“What about Kali’s nursery?” Megumi questions, considering that there’s a whole room for the baby. It does make sense that you’d stay with the baby, it’s just surprising that Toji is willing to give up his room.

“I’m sleeping on the floor of the nursery.” Toji answers, and Megumi can’t help but laugh. It feels so unlike his father, but he has to give the man some credit. Toji’s changed for the better

“Can your body handle that?” Megumi is fighting back a smirk, and Toji really shouldn’t, he’s the adult in the room, but he sticks out his middle finger at his son. Megumi chuckles before putting his hands up defensively, “Hey, I’m just saying, you’re forty in a couple of days.”

“I will teach the new kid respect, since you clearly don’t know what that means.” Toji rolls his eyes, and Megumi copies the action.

“Okay, old man. Whatever you say.”

Toji’s phone begins to ring a little past midnight, and he groggily picks it up. Who in the world would call at this forsaken hour? He doesn’t check who it is, he’s about to curse out whoever it is, but then he hears you in pain. His eyes shoot wide, and he tries to kick off the blanket off him.

“It’s time?” He asks, knowing damn well that it is. You’re not calling him this late for no reason. Toji is waiting for an actual response that isn’t you moaning in pain, and while he waits, he begins to get dressed.

“Come pick me up.” Is all you say, and he won’t question you further right now. He thought that the agreement was that you'd meet up at the hospital since you were staying with Shiu for a while; Shiu would be the one to drive you, but something happened.

“Your place of Shiu’s?” Toji makes sure to get the place right before heading over there. He furrows his brows when he hears your place, but he won’t question it either. Right now it’s not the time to start an interrogation. You might curse him to death if he takes one minute longer. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Ten?!” You sound absolutely mortified. Toji bites down his tongue before deciding.

“Five. I’ll make it five minutes.”

Toji picks you up, and all the questions that he had in mind are gone. You’re cursing him out for even breathing, he can’t even think of questioning you. With every contraction you throw in a new insult, something that he didn’t know you had in your body.

“Stupid motherfucker, stop breathing.” “You are literally so pathetic, how did I get pregnant by you?” “Just drop me off here, I’m so embarrassed to be seen near you.” And what did he do? Just breathe a little weird while you were having a contraction– Well, and knock you up but that’s besides the point.

You’re more calm once you’re in the hospital though, and you’re a total angel after you get the epidural. Toji chuckles at the sight of you scrolling through your phone, a completely different person compared to the woman that he picked up just a few hours ago.

“You can go back home and sleep, I’ll call you when it’s officially time.” You tell Toji, who’s mindlessly staring at you. You don’t care to look away from your phone, guessing Toji is indifferent to this whole situation. Toji never really cared to keep by your side when you were sick as his wife, you doubt he’d want to stay here for hours on end in this situation.

“Where’s Shiu?” Toji asks, ignoring your statement. You’re definitely more calm now, if you start an argument Toji knows that you won’t start hitting him. You stare at Toji, wondering if he’s up to something… He gave up after he found out that you and Shiu had a thing, so you doubt he has something up his sleeve. “I just thought you were staying with him–”

“Business trip. He wanted to stay because he knew I was due soon but I convinced him to go, it was only going to be the weekend.” You sigh, putting your hand over your bump. “Kali was just too excited.”

“Hell, I’d be excited too if Shiu left me the fuck alone.” Toji responds, rolling his eyes at the thought of Shiu. His best friend. “Did he come up with that name too? Kali?”

“He– Well, he brought it up and it stuck around. It’s cute.” You admit, and Toji sighs. Yeah, that man has named his daughter as well. It’s a cute name, and he doubts he really has a say anymore. “I mean, if you don’t like it you can still change it.”

“Do I really have a say in this?” Toji asks, and you nod your head, an inquisitive look coming to your face.

“Why wouldn’t you? You’re her father.” You respond, and Toji bites down his lip. It’s hard to remember when there’s the perfect man right next to you, about to become his daughter’s stepfather. Maybe he shouldn’t compare himself to Shiu so much, like that he’d be more at peace.

“With Shiu becoming your boyfriend and all.” He says, and you roll your eyes. He’s given up but he’s still jealous of Shiu. Who could blame him? “I like the name Kali. It’s cute. I already got some clothes with her name.”

“If this is about the clothes you can always buy new ones.” You remind him, though he shakes his head. He likes the name. “Alright, you can go home now.”

“I’m not leaving you alone.” Toji answers, pulling out his phone to send a message to his old friend. As much as Toji doesn’t like the man anymore, he knows you want Shiu to be here. “Did you call him?”

“I don’t want to bother him.” You shake your head, putting all your attention on your phone again. You don’t want to have this conversation with Toji of all people.

“I don’t think it’ll bother him.” He’s looking through his contacts to find Shiu. Just a quick message, and Shiu will be on his way over.

“Just leave it alone, Toji.” You sigh. You see that he’s typing something in his phone, and you can see right through him, “Toji! Leave it alone.”

“He’s going to want to be here. Or at the very least know.” Toji argues, and you furrow your brows. “I’m trying to help you–”

“What do you know about relationships, Toji? Do I need to remind you that we got divorced because you were such a shitty husband?” You slightly raise your voice, and Toji bites his tongue. “You need to stay out of this, leave Shiu alone on his business trip. I don’t want to worry him.”

“I thought the epidural was supposed to help.” He mutters, and you glare at him.

“Aren’t you going to leave?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. Toji gets comfortable on his seat before saying,

“I’m going to wait for my daughter right here.”

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fanfic #toji fic

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cherry-pop-elf · 4 days ago

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Your Own Happy Ending

Mouthwashing gang X Reader

AN: Can be read as platonic, and can be implied to be any/multiple characters. Except Jimmy. Fuck you Jimmy

Sum: Enough was enough. Time to get off this stupid Rock

Warnings: 18+, violence, sexual assault, revenge fic, talks about rape, gore, happy ending don’t worry, trauma, mouth wash, graphic violence, written by a victim of sexual assault and giving all of us that need to get revenge on our abusers. I see you, guys gals and nonbinary pals. I see you

This had to stop. He was going to just hurt more and more people. There will be more victims. You can’t become a victim, you can’t have the ones you love be under his hands. No. No one deserved this.

No one except him.

Curly was at deaths door, Anya is going to reach a point of no return in her pregnancy, Daisuke is on the edge of a mental break down, and even Swansea is shattering apart. One bottle of mouthwash at a time.

You didn’t know what will happen next. You were crashed in god knows where, but maybe there is a chance of hope. Maybe there is a way to get home. Maybe. Maybe maybe maybe.

The cockpit is full of foam, but who says you can’t just cut away at it enough to access a transmitter? What’s else is left to do? Not like waiting and praying is helping.

Would explain why Jimmy refused to let anyone have the keys to the pit.

He didn’t want his sins to escape.

You’ll make them escape out of his damn body.

There was no way Anya was going to tell you where the gun was. Guess that means you’ll need to improvise. Had a ax. A ax can do it, but getting it away from Swansea is going to be troubling. He was keeping it as much for self defense at this point as you would have to.

You needed a weapon.

Your hands couldn’t handle it. Jimmy was able to do so much harm already. Anya was most likely not his only victim. He’s certainly done this before. Meaning he knows how to fight, and get someone pinned under him. There to do whatever he wanted.

You had to get him before he got you.

What else could be a weapon?

A knife? A knife!

You ran into the kitchen, much to the confusion of Swansea and Daisuke, only to start tearing the drawers out. Utensils flying everywhere as you tried to find something. Anything sharp.

To your horror there was no knives.

“He took all the knives….”

You looked over, same for Swansea, as it had been Daisuke who said it.

Daisuke said it.

“They are all in Curly’s old room. Since he’s the new captain now he has the ability to lock down that door. No one gets in, and no one gets out. Whatever he wants to hide is there. Noticed him hoarding things there. Was so confused…..Now I’m not anymore.”

Swansea looked ready to start swinging his ax at the nearest body of organs. He couldn’t believe this was real. That this was some shining bullshit.

This couldn’t go on.

“Swan, Daisuke, you guys gotta grab Anya and hide out in the med-bay. I’ll find something. I’ll find something-“ You rambled on, before Anya had poked her head in. Seeing Swansea holding Daisuke, and trying to keep that ray of sunshine from finally snapping.

“What’s going on?” She would whisper. Ever afraid if she spoke to loud that Jimmy would find her. Find her and do something else. Didn’t matter where she was. He was always breathing down her neck. One way or another.

“Little junior adventurer over there wants to finish the job.” Swansea would grit his teeth, as you still kept hunting down for something. Willing to tear apart cushions. You had to find SOMETHING. Maybe you could break a chair leg, maybe you could use some wires. Maybe maybe maybe-

That’s when Anya held your shoulder. Her tired eyes pulled you away from the incoming insanity. Brought you back to reality, and had you listen. Listen for just a moment.

“This is where the jugular vein is-“ She begun, as she pointed to her neck. Then started to name off more vital arteries, before pulling a scalpel from her pocket. Into your hands they went, as she kept listing off every vital vein possible. Weak points every body had.

Even a man like him.

“Last I saw him he was exploring the lower decks. Please…..Just make it quick.” As much as she hated him, she just could only bring herself to be only so cold. She could never be as cruel as Jimmy. To wish death onto someone. Never would she.

That’s what made her forever better than him.

“Come on, kid. You ain’t gonna wanna see this. Get over here, Anya. Come on. Let’s go have a sleepover with Captain Curly.” He would motion her over, and she would snuggle under his arm. The two safe in his arms, as he would walk them to the med-bay.

Was wise for him to keep the ax. That thing was what kept Jimmy from doing his own finishing of the job. You can’t over power him. No you can’t. There was also the fact Anya made sure to keep the gun hidden. You wouldn’t deny the idea it was in the med-bay somewhere. Just more protection if anything.

They’ll be safe. If you didn’t make it, at least you’ll make sure Jimmy is too weak to try anything more to hurt them. Weak enough for someone else to finish the job. What mattered now was them staying away until the job was done, and for you to figure out what to do next.

You needed that damn key.

You would stuff your hands in your pockets, grip tight on the scalpel, and started walking. Walking, thinking, listening. Eyes glued to anything that could offer an opportunity to be jumped. You had to be vigilant.

As you walked you would notice the door that was once Curly’s. How Jimmy didn’t deserve the luxury of what a Captain gets. Made you wonder what else he was also hoarding in that room. Maybe he was hoarding resources that should have been shared with the rest of you. There could be the slimmest chance that he was hiding away a transmitter even. Not having the guts to destroy it, and maybe even as far as to what for the rest of them to kill each other before he called for help.

That coward.

You had to get his keys. You needed those keys for those you love. They deserved to live. YOU deserved to live. No way in hell will Jimmy keep getting away with this. Never again. Never more.

Your nerves were getting tighter and tighter now. Even the sound of your own heart beat was painfully loud in your head. The sweat on your skin, the itch of your skin being too tight, the pounding of drums, the feeling of air pushing at your ribcage. So much as your eyes blinking was to loud.

Everything was to loud.

That’s when a bang of metal hitting metal alerted you. You spun around, and was just met with nothing. Just an empty, dark, hallway. No source of the noise. Maybe there was none to begin with. Just your nerves.

“Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You know you have to do this. There is no other option. You can do this. For Anya, for Daisuke, and for Swansea.”

A wipe to your brow and you returned to hunting him down.

Felt like an eternity. Just endless hallways in red lights of emergency. Hallways blocked off by foam. Was a scarlet bouncy castle of horror. Never did the ship feel so endless yet so tight. Maybe the ship itself was breathing to.

Never did you think you would be happy to see his ugly face.

He was down in the lower decks, seeming to be trying to access a door that Swansea had managed to block off. Swansea was stronger than he looked, and was a mechanic no less. Jerry rigged a makeshift lock for the door. If you recall correctly that was where the cryo-sleep pods were. He had been working to try and fix them up, but you doubt they survived. Guess it’s better to pretend you are doing something useful than do nothing at all.

“Hey Jim, whatcha doing?” You tried your best to act casual, as you watched him trying to get the lock off. A mixture of locking mechanics and bent metal that kept things in place. Jimmy just didn’t have the body weight to unbend them. Who ever said being fat wasn’t useful?

“Trying to get into this damn room. Be useful and help me, won’t you?” He grumbled, as he kept trying to pull the metal.

This was your chance.

This almost felt to perfect. He was distracted, hyper focused on something, and was crouching. You would have the upper hand. You can pull this off. You just had to fight your nerves.

“Yeah yeah yeah. I’m coming.” You would say, as you would walk closer to him. Flashes crossed your vision with each step. Was like blurs of a shadow puppet show. Visions of his talle outline pinning Anya to the ground, another of him pinning Daisuke to a wall. Even Swansea wasn’t free from the concept of being pinned to a surface and abused.

No one was safe with Jimmy still around.

You would soon be standing behind him, as he focused on the lock. He was right there. You just had to do it. Do what Anya showed you. His neck was exposed. It was right there. You just had to do it.

You pulled your weapon out, and took in a deep breath.

Just as you brought your arm to swing, Jimmy turned around.

Happened in a flash. You made contact with his skin, but it was his cheek instead. He would tumble over, and was quick to kick your legs out from under you. Had you slam your back to the ground. Knocked the wind out of you.

“I fucking KNEW IT-! YOU GOD DAMN BITCH-!” Was like he wasn’t even human anymore. Just as much of an animal on the outside as he was on the inside. You had to run. You had to get out of there. You fucked up your perfect chance. Your messed up and he’s going to remind you that you did.

You attempted to get up, but Jimmy was just that much faster than you. Your ankle was grabbed, and he was yanking you closer. You couldn’t stop yourself from screaming, as he would try and pry the medical tool from you.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU RAPIST PIECE OF SHIT-!” You nearly sobbed, as he stared down at you. Your wrists pinned above your head, as he just gawked at you. Was like he never even heard the word before.

“Rapist? You think I’m a fucking rapist? You little fucking bitch. I’m no such damn thing. What happened between us was nothing of the sort. It was just what happens when someone gets in my way. Reaching your goals isn’t a crime. Is it?” He asked you, as you kept struggling under him. Trying to get away.

“Fuck. YOU-!” And you slammed your face into his. Gave you a blinding headache instantly, but the shock of contact was enough to make him let go. You were soon crawling, and now running, away.

“IM GOING TO KILL YOU! IM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU LIKE IVE BEEN TRYING TO DO WITH CRASHING THIS STUPID SHIP!” His voice echoed like the demon from hell he was.

You never thought such fear like this could be in your body.

Your vision was a blurry mess from the head bang, but you just used the walls to offer you guidance. To try and find a place to breathe, and wait. To try again. You won’t give up. You refused to give up.

“COME BACK HERE-! YOU CANT RUN FOREVER! THERES NOWHERE ELSE FOR YOU TO GO-!” He would threaten you. His voice just seeming to be coming from everywhere. Was like he was inside of your own head. Like he was all of your insecurities crawling through your skull, and turning your brain into a mushy puddle of doubt and fear.

You still kept going.

You would find yourself back into the dinning hall, and took your chance in hiding in the kitchen area. Ducking down and hiding yourself by the elevated counters. If he kept running he shouldn’t notice you.

You would hold your knees, recollect yourself, and breathed.

The echoes of his running foot steps were like alarm bells in your ears. To hear them get closer, more distant, then closer again. Clearly having lost where you went, but still keeping up chance. How did he have so much energy? He must have been indeed hoarding resources. No way should someone surviving off mouthwash have this much stamina.

Your confused thoughts were cut short by the quickening pace of the foot steps. From banging on metal to proper flooring. He had entered the kitchen. He was breathing hard, and just boiling in anger.

“Where’s that fucking bitch? Where did that fucker go?” He would pant, as you would hear something sharp run over the counter marble. Must have grabbed a knife from his bedroom. Maybe that meant he left the door unlocked as well.

That could be your chance to get a proper weapon.

You just had to wait. Wait and pray he didn’t look over the counter.

You couldn’t tell where he was looking, but you needed to risk it. You would grab for one of the spoons off the ground, and threw it as far as you could. Into the hallway to the next part of the ship. You managed to get enough distance. The sound of metal hitting on the grates was loud. You swore you could feel the head thwip of Jimmy turning towards it.

“Found you-!” He shouted cockily, as he ran into that direction.

“Dumbass.” You muttered, as you soon ran the opposite way. Trying to find his room before he realized he was had.

You even went as far as to take off your shoes, so your feet made much less noise. Harder to be tracked and followed. Never did you think listening to Daisuke ramble about horror movie logic would come in handy. Gave some weird morbid hope that maybe Anya will be a final girl and make it out of here alive.

You would hear the foot steps echoing around you, as you tried to stalk quieter towards the dorm hallways. Was so hard to make out where they were going and coming from. The distant shouts of annoyance weren’t helping either. Was just making you more aware of your own mortality.

Luckily you managed to find the door. He snuck inside, and closed the door. Maybe he would think he locked it behind himself and not even think of checking in there. Maybe he was dumb enough to be fooled.

When in the room you couldn’t help but be disgusted by the sight. He really was hoarding food! The knives were also laid all out on his desk. Organized like he was planning to use them. There was also a trans communicator. Just as you thought there was. You thought it was suspicious there wasn’t a means to transfer information in case of an emergency. Even Pony Express had to have THAT. Suppose believing it was just consumed by foam was easier. Maybe it was and he dug it out himself.

No matter. You had hope.

You quickly grab the device, and turned it on. By god it WORKED!

“Hello? Hello?! This is the Tulpar for The Pony Express! We’ve been crash landed for months! Pony express has laid us off and hasn’t sent any rescue by proxy! Can you hear me?!” You couldn’t help but shout, as the transmitter would crackle.

“We read you loud and clear. How many are on the ship?” You were sobbing. No way. Someone was actually hearing you!

“Five! We have five people here! One in critical condition! Captain Curly! He’s alive! Alive but having suffered the most from the crash. We are running lower on medical supplies, we have very little food, we’ve been drinking fucking mouth wash to survive!” You weeped, as the person on the other end was taking in the information.

You said five for a reason.

“Keep on the line with us as we track your signal. Are you in any immediate danger?” The person asked.

“YES YOU ARE-!” Jimmy would shout behind you, before stabbing you right in your shoulder. You screamed bloody murder, as the person on the line gasped. Despite the pain, you were keeping your grip on the communicator. You weren’t letting go. No you fucking WONT.

“STUBBORN BITCH-!” He shouted at you, as you used your body to protect that communicator with all your body and life. You didn’t care if he was going to kill you now. You were getting everyone home. You were and you fufilled your mission.

“Just get it over with already you coward! How many people did you rape?! Huh?! Was Anya the first?! Like hell! She’s your most recent! Was Daisuke next?! Was I next?!” You called out, as you had nothing to lose anymore. You were going down with your own ship, unlike him.

“If you have to know, Anya wasn’t my last at least. She really thought leaving me alone with Curly was smart. Dumb whore-“ He would yank out the knife, making you bleed and scream. The hot searing pain was just beyond words. You were seeing stars, and not the kind you wanted.

“Was figuring how many I could get away with. Didn’t think she would actually tell anyone. Didn’t think much about her at all. Guess you live and learn. You live and l-“

Bang.

Silence.

Silence, the crackle of a communicator, and the ever breathing ship.

With a thud to the ground you were able to finally gain some vision to look over. Over to see Jimmy was dead on the ground, with a bullet hole through his forehead. Those terrifying eyes were now glsssy and empty. Looked almost relaxed. The only time he seemed to rest.

He was dead.

Your vision was blurring, and noise around you was muffled. All you could hear was muffled noise. Was like you were underwater. Your vision was starting to blur again as well. Couldn’t make out shapes.

You thought you saw someone with black hair above you. Seeming to grab something and speak into it. Was there something yellow to? Yellow and shaking you? There was also this almost pinkish blur as well. Came to you, and you swore you heard someone saying ‘you’re a hero’ before it all went to black.

One Month After The Call.

“Morning sunshine.”

You would groan, as you rubbed at your eyes. What happened? Was it all some bad dream? Where were you? This place didn’t look like the med-bay. Was so clean and white. There were windows too. Holy shit was that daylight? REAL daylight?

“Over here.”

You turned your head, and you saw him. Captain Curly. Looked so much better than when you last recalled him. His skin wasn’t as red, proper bandages were on him, and his lips even seemed to be healing back. Skin graphs? Was still laying in a bed, but far more cared for. Proper bedding, clean, IV bags, and…Wait…..Did he speak?!

“Been out a while. Don’t worry not much to catch you up on. You kinda went into a medical coma, from what Anya tried to explain to me. Everyone agreed to put you in the Cryo-Pod until help arrived. Was the only way to keep us both alive. All the resources had to go to me, sorry about that, so they had to pretty much freeze you in time. Big Swan had managed to make it function enough to work until the rescue team came for us. Welcome to the land of the living, hero.”

Even with his messed up complexion, and voice so hoarse you thought he himself was speaking through a communicator, you smiled. A hero huh? Wait. That meant….

“Did Anya pull the trigger?” You asked, with your own voice rasp from lack of use.

“Yeah. Yeah she did. We heard you screaming and she just….Couldn’t let you be his next victim. You gave her some bravery. I already knew she was brave, but damn. Who needs a Captain when you have her?” His laughter was painful, but you knew it was worth it.

“How’s everyone else?”

“Anya has been working with staff here. They took her in to be a doctor with them when they saw that the likes of me was still alive and functional. They really didn’t want to lose someone as smart as her. Daisuke has been glued here as much as us-“ He would weakly raise his arm, what’s left anyway, towards the sleeping solider. Curled up on a spare cot that was brought in for him. The staff having been understanding that he deserved to be around you both. His parents most likely were the ones to bring in all the video games for him to play with and show Curly as well. Even after so much he was still taking care of the ones he loved.

“Swansea?” You worried the most, since you wondered where he could be.

“Sueing the ever living fuck out of Pony Express for whatever damn dime they have left. Daisuke’s parents, and him, have been at the forefront on it all. He will come visit us soon. Get some rest, sunshine. You’ve earned it.” But you couldn’t help but worry. A worry that one person wasn’t accounted for.

“He’s dead. I do mean dead dead. By the time help arrived he had already well started decomposing. Swansea even went the extra mile and cut his head off from his body. Kinda overkill, but hey….Can’t take risks with monsters. Right?” You nodded at that, as you were able to rest.

No more Jimmy.

No more space ships.

Time to finally be a princess and get your beauty sleep.

“Sleep well, sunshine.”

“You to, Captain.”

A deep breath in of that sterilized air, fresh cut grass, and clean cotton.

You were free.

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smutoperator · 6 months ago

Note

How about a fic about Chaeyoung and Somi swapping partners with their boyfriends? I think it could be a good idea for a fic.

-Sana's husband-

Wild Swingers

Son Chaeyoung, Jeon Somi x Male Reader, Somi's Boyfriend

Tags: (lots of) A2M, (lots of) anal, (a little) armpit play, boyfriend swap, catfight, couch sex, creampie, (lots of) deepthroating, (lots of) dirty talking, (lots of) double penetration, griding, jealousy, lesbian, mating press, multiple orgasms, P2M, orgy, rough sex, squirting, spitting, standing DP, titfucking, tribbing, wet pussies

Word count: 7462

Somi and Chaeyoung were having a joint date with both their boyfriends, enjoying themselves as they took them to many places in the city to have fun. Eating, drinking, playing—everything. The two girls were truly having a great day as they were about to head back to Somi's room, until Chaeyoung brought up a question to her best friend.

"You find my boyfriend hot, don't you? Do you wanna fuck him?" Somi got caught by surprise when Chaeyoung suddenly asked this without any filter. "What? No!" Somi got caught by her bestie's boldness. She knew Chaeyoung was a little wild girl, but not to the point of offering her own boyfriend to her best friend. "Well, I mean..." Somi started to hesitate. "You want him; I know you," Chaeyoung replied.

"The plain is fairly simple," Chaeyoung continued. "You can fuck him if I can fuck your boyfriend; done deal?" she asked. "You want to swap?" Somi asked. "Let's tease them, and once we get home, they'll fuck our brains out," Chaeyoung said. "I like the way this is going," Somi said.

The two girls entered a photo booth as the final activity of the day. "Wait for us outside," they told their boyfriends. Somi and Chaeyoung took increasingly naughty pics, with Chaeyoung even sharing one on Instagram with their underwear exposed. But their boyfriends got to see even more, as they later took it off and photographed themselves with Somi's boobs and Chaeyoung's pussy fully on display, as a tease for later in the day.

"Holy shit, you girls have no shame," you told your girlfriend. "We love to tease," Chaeyoung replied to you. "Guys, come to my house; the fun is far from over," Somi continued. "Sure," you told her. "A little extra fun won't be bad at all," you continued.

You four arrived at Somi's house, following her boyfriend as he took a couple beer cans out of the refrigerator. "Girls, do you want some?" he asked. "Maybe later," Somi replied to her boyfriend. "We need to chill a bit here on the couch," she continued.

Chaeyoung doesn't seem to want to stop at any moment, finger-fucking Somi's pussy into oblivion. "It's better than your boyfriend's cock, isn't it?" she asks. "You have no shame saying this in front of... fuckkkk." Somi can't even finish the sentence; as Chaeyoung fucks her so fast, she decides to join her; after all, two hands stimulating a wet pussy is definitely better than one.

"AHHH FUCK YEAH, AHHHHHHH, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, SHITTT," Somi screams.

Somi's boyfriend and you took a few snacks to eat and drank a couple beers, roaming around the kitchen in just your underwear and bragging to each other about your girlfriends and feeling lucky about having a pair of hot and wild idols willing to share a date. Both of you were ready to drink more beers until low-pitched screams coming from the living room interrupted you.

Both guys couldn't process the insanity that was ensuing on the couch. Somi and Chaeyoung had started a catfight between them, dropping to the floor. When the guys arrived, Chaeyoung was already yanking Somi's bra and unveiling her naked tits. You two almost intervened, but let the two girls fight a little. Such best friends wouldn't start doing such things without a plan, after all, would they?

The guys stayed watching as the girls slowly took their clothes off of each other. Chaeyoung may be the smaller one, but her strength was clearly no match for Somi, who at this point only had her tiny panties on, and just barely, with her long legs and huge chest already fully exposed. Chaeyoung picked up a bit of water from the adjacent table and poured it on Somi's bare body, making her best friend already wet.

Chaeyoung tripped herself up as she tossed the water into Somi, laughing while doing so. You two just decided to sit, watch, and enjoy it, as it proved to be quite entertaining to watch them fight. As soon as Chaeyoung got back on her feet, she tossed Somi to the couch. "Oh my God, you're such a naughty bitch," the tall Wasian said as Chaeyoung got fully on top of her.

The two kept fighting and laughing on the couch, but Chaeyoung was more effective at taking her friend's clothes off, pulling Somi's thong all the way down to her thighs, and exposing her bare ass, allowing you to catch a glimpse of her anus and pussy as well.

Somi tried to take Chaeyoung's clothes, but the little spinner resisted as hard as she could. Instead, she managed to strip Somi fully naked and give the guys a full frontal view of her best friend. "I knew you were no match for me; you are just tits on a stick," Chaeyoung said, talking trash to Somi. "If I'm just tits on a stick, how about you suck them, little bitch?" Somi responded, topping little Chaeyoung and shoving her massive milkers right into her friend's face. Chaeyoung pushed back, and the two shared a hot kiss, their bodies hotly bumping into each other.

"Oh shit," Somi moaned as Chaeyoung started massaging her naked body, first groping her tits, then running her fingers into Somi's pussy, before running her hands all over her body. "Now let me suck those titties," Chaeyoung said as Somi dove them straight into her mouth, letting her bestie lick them harder than a baby searching for its mother's milk. Chaeyoung kept moving her naughty tongue up and down, left and right, turning Somi on and getting her wet with ease, then spltting and groping them.

Somi tried to follow and took Chaeyoung's bra off, exposing her own little tits as the tall wasian grinded her pussy against Chaeyoung's fabric, which was followed by stretching her hands right onto Somi's cunt. "Take those off," she told Somi, who proceeded to pull Chaeyoung's panties down as the two started rubbing their pussies against each other, and Somi dove onto Chaeyoung's point nipples to suck them.

"Spit on them, nasty bitch," Chaeyoung ordered, and Somi followed. The little cutie took advantage of Somi stopping her tit sucking and got up the couch to suck the blonde's massive honkers, placing her small head between them. "Oh fuck, you really want those tits all to yourself, cunt," she told Chaeyoung. "Yes, I do; give me all of it," Chaeyoung replied as Somi's big boobs muffled her words.

Somi helped Chaeyoung take her boots off, leaving herself wearing just a pair of sexy red fishnets. "You've got a foot fetish now?" she laughed as Somi started kissing Chaeyoung's little legs and tiny toes. The two then started a little game. "Let's see who squirts first," Chaeyoung said, as both put one of their hands in their pussies and fingered them nonstop, Chaeyoung making sure to grab Somi's boobs while she did it.

"How about we do this together?" Somi said, locking her pussy against Chaeyoung's as the two started a hot tribbing session. Somi moved her hips as she sexily moaned. Her soft and slim slit felt quite overwhelmed by Chaeyoung's meaty cunt rubbing against it. Somi is usually straighter than a pole, but that friction against Chaeyoung's throbbing folds was really turning her on, making her push harder as the tribbing went by.

"Work my pussy," Chaeyoung demanded as she spanked Somi's ass in approval and licked her chops, their clits fully interlocked now. "You're going to get that wet before even getting fucked," Chaeyoung said. "HAHAHAHA!" Somi let out a massive laugh, the two interlocking their legs and squirting fountains from their pussies.

"Let me lick it," Somi demanded as she dove her head into Chaeyoung's core. "If you want it so much, then take it," Chaeyoung said, grabbing Somi's head and dunking it into her folds. Even though Chaeyoung was the one being eaten out, it was Somi who was moaning. "Hmmm, you love that wet, sloppy pussy; let me print it all over your face," Chaeyoung said. "Taste me; let me cum all over your mouth. Put that tongue all over my pussy," she continued.

Somi follows Chaeyoung's orders and quickly drives her little bestie over the moon. She always bragged about being a good tongue-kisser, and it seems like those skills translate well into eating pussies. You feel a little envy, as it feels like you are no match for what Somi is doing and that making Chaeyoung cum just with your tongue is so hard to come by. Meawnhile, Somi can do that with such ease.

Chaeyoung lets out lout moans as Somi's tongue sends shivers down her spine. "You dirty fucking girl," she tells her, laughing. "You never told me you could eat pussy like that," she said. "I didn't know that either," Somi said as she slapped Chaeyoung's cunt after she cums, letting her best friend squirt out further juices.

"My turn," Chaeyoung says, flipping Somi around. "Dirty bitch already spitting on that fucking pussy, such a dirty girl, Somi says as Chaeyoung outs her whole hand inside her mouth. "Get this pussy wet for my boyfriend," she continues. You overhear it but feel confused, thinking she was talking about Somi's own boyfriend.

Chaeyoung makes a mess of Somi's pussy, fingering it in an insane way. "Ahhhhh fuck," Somi says, unable to handle the pressure from Chaeyoung's magical hands. Without even using her mouth, she makes Somi cum with ease and turns her into a moaning mess, finishing the job with lots of licking into Somi's throbbing clit that makes her friend squirt a river.

At this point, you and Somi's boyfriend can't contain yourselves and start jerking off at the sight of your girlfriends fucking the shit out of each other. They are just too hot for you two to handle, and even better when they combine forces, as you two really start pondering why they haven't done this earlier.

Chaeyoung doesn't seem to stop finger-fucking Somi's pussy nonstop. "Better than your boyfriend's cock, bitch?" she asks. "That's bold of you to say it in front of... fuckkk." Somi can't even finish the sentence, as Chaeyoung keeps plowing her fingers deep in her cunt rather than joining her best friend, as two hands stimulating a pussy is better than one. "OH FUCK, OH YEAH, AHHHHH, GOD, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," Somi turns into a screaming mess as Chaeyoung gives her an evil laughter, enjoying her big tit friend cum like a big whore.

"Come on, come on," Chaeyoung says. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, OH SHIT." Somi screams as Chaeyoung's hands stay obliterating her pussy and as Somi starts trembling in orgasms, she finishes her with more licks all over her clit while burying those fingers even deeper into Somi's cunt.

"I see you guys are ready to join the fun," Chaeyoung says. You run in her direction as she smiles at you, already noticing your throbbing erection under your panties, getting up as you kiss her. "We are going to do something different today," she says. "You'll take Somi, and I'll take her boyfriend," she continues. You hesitate a bit, as you have never done a boyfriend swap before. "Are you sure?" you ask Chaeyoung. "Yes, we already set everything up; we are ready and wet," she responds.

Somi moves in your direction, still trembling from her orgasm. Her fully naked body is truly wonderful. Just her tits alone would make her extremely hot, but she's got great legs, a beautiful face, a sexy tummy, and a pink, peach-shaped pussy. The two girls kneel on the floor, and Somi starts with a slow but hot sucking of your cock, which contrasts to Chaeyoung's frenetical blowjob to Somi's boyfriend, where she's already taking his shaft deep in her small throat from the start. Somi, on the other hand, likes to build things up calmly, adjusting as she finds the best spots to suck your cock.

"That feels so good," you tell Somi as she moves her mouth further down your shaft. Chaeyoung, on the other side, shows no mercy to Somi's boyfriend's cock, twisting it hard as she bobs her head on it as fast as she can. If just a little deepthroat is enough to make Somi gag and go back to your tip, Chaeyoung just takes any cock balls deep in her throat until she runs completely out of air.

"That's a good whore, spitting all over that cock," Somi's boyfriend tells Chaeyoung, who is already getting extremely loud and sloppy, with some of her saliva landing on his hips. Meanwhile, Somi tries to stay focused and do her best work on your cock, slowly jerking it off. Their styles may be very different, but both are more than satisfying to their partners.

Somi's pretty face is too hard for you to resist as you puush your cock up into her throat, testing her to see if she can take it full speed. Somi slows you down a bit, managing to get the perfect pace for her pleasure. On the other side, it would be incorrect to say Chaeyoung is getting her face fucked. With the way she keeps bobbing, it's rather her face that is fucking Somi's boyfriend pole.

Their contrasting styles really create a hot sexual atmosphere in the room. Somi is like a slutty princess, enjoying herself as she slaps your cock into her big tits, while Chaeyoung is just a nasty, dirty whore, trying to take the life out of the cock she's sucking, putting her best friend's boyfriend on the edge as she bites his cock as if she's an electric eel, shocking her target.

"Ohhh shit," Somi's boyfriend screams as Chaeyoung makes his cock throb hard. "Put it down my fucking throat," she demands, wanting it more. You watch it and get flashbacks of when you two started dating and you filled her mouth full of cum after one deepthroating and thought you had literally blown it with her. Now you see her repeating the same moves on another guy.

You just let Somi take her time. You're very enamored with her; she just oozes sexiness, and the methodical way she works on your cock leads to great arousal. If Chaeyoung just straight up swallows any cock she sees on sight, Somi likes to savor them.

Somi gets rewarded with a hot facefuck for her great blowjob as you two slowly build up more chemistry. She naugthly stares at you and signals she's ready for more, giving some love to your balls for the first time. Chaeyoung and Somi's boyfriend fill the room with all the noise as you and Somi opt for silent work and get to know each other better.

"Holy fuck!" Somi's boyfriend screams as Chaeyoung continues to attack his cock nonstop. "My dirty boy loves this dirty girl getting down that cock, doesn't it?" she asks. Somi herself decides to get a little sloppier, starting a louder blowjob as she spits on your cock and pops it in and out of her mouth, making sexy sounds.

"Suck that pipe, suck that pipe." The order comes from Somi's boyfriend to Chaeyoung, but his girlfriend also follows suit with it. Both girls are now deepthroating their opposing boyfriend's shafts. Chaeyoung handles it with ease, giving commands like "Look at me while I blow your fucking cock, and don't ever think of cumming," but your hard thrusts into her throat end up being a struggle for Somi, who decides to bring out her not-so-secret weapon.

Somi places your cock between her boobs. It was what you had been dreaming of the moment you saw her. And it blew even your highest expectations out of the water. Her tits are just perfect sized for your cock to wrap around them, squeezing it at the perfect spots, but also to slide up and down them, making banging them more pleasurable than fucking a lot of pussies out there.

Somi licks your chest as you fuck hers, then you two kiss each other and enjoy yourselves. You never thought it was going to be this good, but barely five minutes in, you're in love with her. Meanwhile. Chaeyoung just wants to be as nastiest as possible to Somi's boyfriend, throbbing cock, making a mess of it, and licking its balls to tip like there was no tomorrow.

"God damn it!" Somi's boyfriend screams as he tries his best not to blow his entire semen on Chaeyoung's slutty face. Meanwhile, it's all about kissing and fucking her tits between you and Somi, who grabs them with her hands and squeezes your cock even further as you get more and more addicted to her massive fun bags.

"Ahhh, fuck, please don't stop fucking my titties," Somi says as she enjoys every time your throbbing tip emerges out of her knockers, diving down to lick it a few times, her hands wrapping around them even further. Your cock and her boobs seem like a match made in heaven, to the point you wouldn't be opposed to going all day just banging them.

Chaeyoung feels a little jealous watching you and Somi have all that boob fun. It's truly the thing she envies her best friend the most, as her small tits are a huge contrast to Somi's big melons. But she gets creative and finds a way to have Somi's boyfriend's huge cock rubbing on her body, mimicking you two's titty fun using her armpits instead. This is something Somi's boyfriend isn't accustomed to, but he enjoys it a lot. "If you think it's very tight, wait until you see my pussy," she brags.

"Then let me see it," Somi's boyfriend replies. As his girlfriend is still busy pleasing your cock with her knockers, he and Chaeyoung are ready to move towards raw and animalesque fucking. They work together to bring the couch to the other side of the room, as she wants both couples side by side. It takes a while for you and Somi to notice, as it feels like her chest has placed some kind of enchantment on you. She licks yours while you suck hers. By the time you do, Chaeyoung is already sitting on Somi's boyfriend's pole and getting her cunt impaled.

Somi decides to do something different and sucks your cock a little more before getting it inside her. It's good that her sexy mouth at least tries to distract you as you watch Chaeyoung riding her boyfriend's cock and making some of the craziest facial expressions you've seen. "She never did this to me," you start thinking. Meanwhile, you won't be seeing those reactions from Somi or her big tits bouncing as she decides to sit on it in a reverse cowgirl position.

All that jealousy goes out of the window the moment your cock enters Somi's warm folds. Her pussy tightens so hard that as soon as you get inside her, you have to hold yourself back, not to cum. Also, you finally get time to appreciate the backside of Somi's body. Her tits may be her best-known asset, but she's got an amazingly fit and toned ass that makes the perfect clapping sound every time it descends down your hips. Soon, Somi's delicious body and perfect pussy make you forget about the loud noises from Chaeyoung on the other couch.

"You like how I ride your fucking cock like that? You like your fucking cock in my tight little pussy?" Chaeyoung asks, as Somi's boyfriend can only groan, with her attacking his cock in full force and getting increasingly louder. "FUCK" Chaeyoung scrreams as she fingers her pussy, looking more and more like a crazy nymphomaniac.

On your side, Somi places her hands on your chest and keeps bouncing on your dick, slowly increasing her pace. She spreads her ass a little to ease up the pressure your massive cock exerts on her tight holes, twerking on it once she gets adjusted. The way her ass moves is amazing. Somi may not have the fattest butt, but she knows how to move it up and down a cock.

If Somi's pussy has full control over you, with her start teasing you and rubbing her entrance against your tip, on the other side, it's her boyfriend that treats Chaeyoung like his fuckdoll, pumping his cock up and down her pussy as a rough punishment for her for being such a whore. The more she moans and screams, the more he attacks. "AHHHHHHHH, FUCKKKKKK," is all Chaeyoung can say as Somi's boyfriend prick bulges under her belly and hits her cervix until it makes her cum.

Somi tastes her juice out of your cock, while her boyfriend's is getting creamed by Chaeyoung's squirt. "Give me your pussy one more time," she tells her, showing no mercy for the little spinner still recovering from her orgasm. Somi, standing up a little while jerking your throbbing cock, gets a privileged view of watching her best friend turn into her boyfriend's fleshlight.

"You've been so good to me; you deserve to see my tits bouncing as I sit on your cock," Somi says, switching to a regular cowgirl position and mirroing Chaeyoung, who moans so loudly it hurts Somi's ears. She presses on to your muscular chest and sets them free for you to enjoy the bounce and grope them as she rides you, trying to do her best to concentrate as Chaeyoung has turned into a screaming mess.

The two girls compete for attention. Somi lets her bouncy boobs do the talking, but Chaeyoung's shaking orgasms are entertaining to watch. In the end, both of you are feeling blessed to have such sexy beauties and masters of fucking bouncing on your cocks nonstop. Both girls keep challenging each other, seeking both men's approval as they engage in a grinding competition and put both throbbing cocks on the edge. But unlike in their early catfight, it's Somi who comes on top this time, rotating on your cock with her body floating in the air in an extremely sexy way that puts you over the moon.

Somi keeps teasing you and starts rubbing her folds in your shaft, her boobs getting louder than ever. You can't help but want to satisfy her appetite even further: "I want to fuck your ass right now," you tell her. "Ooooh, you want to fuck my ass?" Somi naughtily asks. "Yes, didn't you hear it?" you reply.

Chaeyoung hears you two talking and asks Somi's boyfriend the same thing. You put Somi sideways on the couch and entered her tight asshole. "Oh, fuck yeah," Somi says as you slowly bury your shaft in her anus. You start with very soft pumps, not wanting to break her, but you quickly notice she is well accustomed to anal sex and start pumping faster. Chaeyoung, trying not to lag behind, pushes Somi's boyfriend back down the couch and goes back to sitting on this dick, this time anally and in reverse.

If you and Somi opt for passionate spooning anal fucking, Chaeyoung goes straight for the kill, manhandling Somi's boyfriend's cock while she fingers herself, tightening her hole even further. "My ass is so fucking tight," both girls repeat almost at the same time, as Somi also gets increasingly aroused by her butthole being stretched out."

"I want this cock so bad; I want you to fuck me so hard," Chaeyoung says. Meanwhile, Somi is all about moaning as your cock keeps stabbing her clenching asshole. "FUCK MY ASS, FUCK MY ASS!" Chaeyoung screams as she starts squirting all over Somi's boyfriend's hips.

Chaeyoung finds a way around Somi's body and kisses you while you're still fucking her best friend. "Do you enjoy watching me get fucked in the ass, daddy?" she asks, but you ignore your screaming whore girlfriend and focus on Somi, leading her to bounce even harder on Somi's boyfriend's cock. Meanwhile, Somi's own ass got so tight that you struggled to get halfway inside it. God, you never knew she could be so tight.

The more the assfucking goes on, the bigger of a whore Chaeyoung gets. She lies on Somi's boyfriend's chest now and lets him pound her in a pearly gates position while groping her tiny tits. She now squirts once every five seconds. She looks to your side, her body limping and itching as she gets pounded to oblivion, but she can only see your ass as you put Somi under an anal mating press and treat your slutty girlfriend with indifference.

You pound Somi's ass hard, finally managing to carve up her tight hole and making her moan and scream in a loud way for the first time. "Fuck me balls deep," she demands of you. On the other sofa, Chaeyoung gets placed under a full Nelson, making her asshole gape even further and forcing her to hold herself by Somi's boyfriend's knees. "God damn it, it feels so fucking good; pound my fucking asshole; fucking give it to me, deep in my asshole," she says while getting ragdolled.

"Let me suck my ass off your fucking cock," Chaeyoung says as she stands up and throats Somi's boyfriend, enjoying her dirty anal juices and twising his shaft. Somi follows suit with your cock, taking it deep in her throat. While she does it, you call Chaeyoung with a request.

"I want to fuck your ass too," you tell her. But Chaeyoung is too focused on a different cock to listen to you, performing a 69 on Somi's boyfriend. "You want to fuck my asshole? Tell your girlfriend to allow it," Chaeyoung finally responds, leaving the answer up to Somi. "Fuck her asshole," she says immediately.

You never had an easier entrance to Chaeyoung's butthole than today. Her hole is already massively gaped from the previous fucking, unlike her usual tight self. As you easily stretch her butt out, Chaeyoung reminds herself of how much she has missed that thick cock of yours. Somi and her boyfriend just watch as Chaeyoung gets her anus further gaped. You show her no mercy after seeing what she just did minutes before, and with this pounding, you have a feeling of revenge over her being such a slut.

"Put that fucking back in my ass; fucking give it to me." Chaeyoung demands, as your cock slides out just for a second. She is thirsty even after a rough pounding. The more you fuck her, the more she wants it and talks dirty. You start spanking her. But she's unfazed. This whore is truly insatiable, to the point where you start wondering if just one cock will be enough to satisfy her.

"You like that?" you ask Chaeyoung as you keep slapping her ass. "Yes, don't ask those stupid questions and slap my butt," she replies. You pull out a bit to admire the gape in her anus, but you think it can grow even larger. Meanwhile, Chaeyoung reaches her hands out to Somi's pussy as her best friend sits her ass on her boyfriend's cock. "Oh, that's a tight asshole," Somi says, and you attested to it just a few minutes ago.

Somi gives Chaeyoung a naughty stare as her pussy gets fingered. She truly wanted to ride your cock like that in the ass, but after you pounded her so hard, she decided to take a little break and get back to the safety of her boyfriend. But in the end, her hole was already so sore that she quickly started to feel the burn after a few rides.

"Ride his dick like a fucking whore; let him stretch your ass," Chaeyoung told some, who suddenly left the pain behind and got naughtier, roating on her boyfriend's cock. "Keep going, keep going," Chaeyoung said, which could be an incentive either to you or to Somi. You took it, switching her from the doggy position she found herself in since you penetrated her asshole and putting her under a rough, pile driver that made her squirt all over the room as you pounded her balls deep.

"I'm ready to be filled with two fucking cocks in my holes," Chaeyoung said after a while. Your answer was just to put her on the floor and lift her leg up, forcing Chaeyoung to cling onto the couch as you further manhandled her asshole. "I guess your holes are so used up that one cock or two cocks won't make a difference," you mocked her.

Somi cleaned up her boyfriend's cock, preparing Chaeyoung to sit her pussy on it. You immediately filled the void and didn't let the gorgeous Wasian go without anything to do, grabbing her by the boobs and shoving your cock on her face for her to suck. Somi took it to the fullest, enjoying the new anal flavor from Chaeyoung in your cock. "That tastes so good," she said.

As Chaeyoung prepared to sit once again on Somi's boyfriend, you two were still busy. Somi just didn't want to let go of your cock, even as Chaeyoung's asshole was almost begging to be filled up, winking at each thrust she received in her cunt. But Somi was addicted to the taste of Chaeyoung's butthole and missed your cock very badly, deciding to be a little selfish.

Chaeyoung got a little upset with her best friend, craving your cock. "You're taking too long, bitch," but Somi just couldn't listen. Just after a while, she gave the green light: "Ready to fuck your whore girlfriend's ass again?" she said, finally freeing your cock. "Yes," you answered her. "Then give it back to her ass," Somi continued.

An impatient Chaeyoung continued to bounce on Somi's boyfriend's cock harder than ever, making loud noises on the couch. She stopped as soon as she saw your cock coming in her direction, but you still teased her a little, missing her hole intentionally. Somi slapped Chaeyoung and asked her, "Ready to take two at the same time in front of your best friend, slut?".

The scream of joy Chaeyoung gave when you finally inserted your cock back in her ass was enough to answer. She rested her head on Somi's left boob as the pair of cocks started working on her holes together. Somi loved watching it, especially your cock at the top pumping in and out of Chaeyoung's ass. She quickly found out you two would be relentless to her, splitting her tiny body up with no regard. Chaeyoung got clingier and clingier to Somi, fingering her best friend's pussy to endure the scorching pounding she was taking.

"OH FUCKKKKK!" Chaeyoung screams. "Fuck her," Somi told both you and her boyfriend. It turns out that very few things are hotter than a short girl being double-stuffed by a pair of cocks. Chaeyoung started breaking apart, but you weren't going to lift off. "You said you could take it; now there is no going back," you told her, giving her a little tap in the ass.

"Get your fucking cock back in my hole," Chaeyoung said when you slid out. She slowly rose up to the challenge, but you showed her who was in control, increasing your pace and destroying her asshole, turning her back into a screaming mess. "Suck my fucking titties; they want some love from a tiny little slut like you." Somi poked fun at Chaeyoung as she reached to lick her melons.

"Keep fucking me like a dirty little slut; get deep inside both my fucking holes; come on guys," Chaeyoung demanded as you two got the perfect sync to hit her holes. "Ride those cocks, come on," both of you told her. Chaeyoung kept getting stretched out, her face now on Somi's lap, who was now spanking her back, enjoying watching her best friend become a cocksleeve.

Chaeyoung almost teared up when you two finished fucking her, but tried to show some strength by going right back to riding Somi's boyfriend's cock. You, still behind her, quickly put her back in her place, mounting on top of her and giving Chaeyoung the roughest assfucking of the day yet. "Who owns you, bitch?" you asked her. "It's you, baby; you own me; you own my fucking asshole; your fucking cock was built to destroy it," she answered.

Somi kissed Chaeyoung and tried to provide a little relief for her bestie, but the more she watched her getting double penetrated, the more she wanted it for herself. But it was all a ploy. As soon as Somi offered help, you pumped Chaeyoung even deeper, and when Somi offered her tits for Chaeyoung to suck, you got even rougher.

"Give it to me; give it to me harder," Chaeyoung said. You followed her orders to the fullest, manhandling her ass in a way you had never done before. "I FUCKING WANT IT HARDER... OH MY GOD," Chaeyoung collapsed on both your cocks, completely out of breath and panting. "Damn, you're looking like this, and it's not even an airtight one," you mocked her.

"Taste your dirty ass and your fucking pussy," you ordered her, as Chaeyoung crawled and dove first into Somi's boyfriend before maniacally cleaning yours. "Is this the taste you like so much, Somi?" she asked her best friend. "Yes, I hope your pussy tastes just as good," Somi says, taking her boyfriend's cock to do the cleanup.

You fucked Chaeyoung's face with the same intensity you did to her ass, while Somi kept tasting her boyfriend's prick and jerking it off. "You want to feel two cocks inside you too?" you asked her. "Yeah," Somi gleefully answered. And you knew if Chaeyoung could do it in her tiny frame, it wouldn't be a problem for a girl of Somi's stature.

Chaeyoung made sure to get your cock as ready as possible for Somi, spitting all over it and shaking it hard. You kept teasing Somi. "Ready to get fucked by two cocks at the same time?" you asked again. "Yes, I am," she smiled. "When?" you asked. "Right now," she replied. "Then come here," you ordered her.

Somi sat her pussy on your shaft. "God damn it, your pussy is so fucking wet," you told her. Somi promptly answered the praise for her cunt by twerking it on your cock. Her boyfriend suddenly joined; his hard thrusts up her ass were perfect to you, making her tits bounce right at your face. "You like two fucking cocks filling you up right now, since you asked so much for it, slut?" Chaeyoung poked Somi, who could only pray to God now.

Chaeyoung spat on Somi's boyfriend's cock a lot; she knows taking on her best friend's tight asshole is always a hell of a challenge. You just gave her pussy slow pumps, enjoying her tits to the fullest in your mouth and making them your personal playground.

Somi's holes started queefing as the fucking continued, and she clenched them, enjoying the bliss of getting double-stuffed. At the bottom of the pile, you were having the best life, torn between Somi's massive knockers and your girlfriend's wet pussy. "Fucking cum all over them," Chaeyoung demanded, grabbing Somi's hair as you two fucked her harder, staring her best friend down and giving her a sexy look.

"It seems like our boyfriends are punishing us with hard fucks in the ass for cheating on them; maybe we should do this more often," Chaeyoung said as Somi endured the same as she did before. Another queefing sound came out of Somi's holes. "Stop farting, bitch, and take those cocks," Chaeyoung mocked her best friend's tightness.

"I love watching your tight holes get obliterated," Chaeyoung said. Somi didn't answer her, focusing on just taking those cocks. "Just like me, you're a dirty slut now, getting stretched out like that," she continued. "Fuck yeah, I am," Somi said.

"Then show me." Her boyfriend came out of nowhere and pumped Somi's ass even deeper. "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! FUCK ME! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Her screams filled the room as Somi got massacred by her boyfriend's throbbing cock. "Come on, give me your cum," her boyfriend said. "Follow him; do it, Somi," Chaeyoung followed.

Somi releases her orgasm as you give her ass a little tap. Her DP was perfect for you to rest as you let her boyfriend do most of the work and got to enjoy eating and sucking her and Chaeyoung out. But even after cumming, her boyfriend doesn't seem done with her. After all, jealousy goes both ways, and he saw her being all clingy to you and worshipping your cock with her tits and pussy in a way she hadn't done to him in a while.

Somi finally gets a break after a long DP. She can barely walk, and her head is spinning, but both cocks are already lined up for her to taste her holes. It is what this selfish cunt likes the most; she already tasted Chaeyoung's but wanted hers too, alternating between both cocks. Then Chaeyoung chimed in and took Somi's boyfriend cock for some more nasty ass-to-mouth, like the dirty whore she is.

"Your ass tastes so good in this fucking cock," Chaeyoung told Somi, who was focused on your cock above all else. "Oh my God, you're such a good cocksucker; keep going; worship my dick." Somi's boyfriend praised Chaeyoung's blowjob skills, wondering to himself if he hadn't cum yet despite all her efforts.

You two weren't done, and you got addicted to this double penetration thing. "Give me that pussy," you told Chaeyoung, carrying her tiny body and stuffing your cock in her cunt. Somi sat on the couch, recovering from the pounding she had just taken, watching Chaeyoung get lifted in the air as her boyfriend followed suit and stuffed her best friend in the ass.

"Come on, right there," Chaeyoung invited the challenge, riding both cocks while mid-air and performing a hot standing DP. Somi couldn't help but watch as she got on her knees and took a look at both those massive cocks taking turns pumping little Chaeng like nothing. "Holy shit, you guys are filling her up well," Somi said, getting even closer and staring right at Chaeyoung's stretched-out fuckholes.

"Bounce up and down those cocks, baby," you told Chaeyoung, who quickly obliged. "There you go," you praised her as she clinged one arm to each of you, screaming as she got stretched out. You put Chaeyoung back on the ground, noticing Somi's return to the frame as you fed your girlfriend's pussy for her to taste. Meanwhile, in the background, her boyfriend took Chaeyoung's sore asshole all by himself and manhandled her.

Somi pulled her boyfriend's cock out of Chaeyoung's ass to taste her favorite hole once again. Chaeyoung took sloppy seconds of her pussy, gripping your cock as soon as Somi left. You could see how much Somi was obsessed with the taste of her best friend's butthole by the enthusiastic way she sucked her boyfriend's meat, which even resembled some of Chaeyoung's high-octane blowjobs early on.

"You look so good sucking his cock," Chaeyoung told Somi, who replied in the same way. The two girls knew this wouldn't go on for long; they made sure their boyfriends would be ready for the final stages of this whole debauchery. Their sloppy blowjobs had both your cocks reinvingorated and harder than ever, ready for even more even after such a long fucking, as both of you rewarded them by slapping your hard meats into their needy faces while they stuck their tongues out.

Chaeyoung climbed back into your lap as you carry fucked her once more, with Somi still busy with her boyfriend's cock, before letting it go so Chaeyoung could enjoy a couple extra minutes of standing DP that she loved so much, with Somi going down low to massage both cocks balls as you two thursted up Chaeyoung's fuckholes.

"These two cocks are doing a great job; I want to try them together again," Somi said down low. If Chaeyoung did something, she was going to follow. This time, they swapped cocks, with Somi back to sucking yours while Chaeyoung took Somi's boyfriend. "I'll take your ass this time," you told Somi, putting your thumb in her mouth as she jerked your cock off. You two kissed each other and went straight to the couch, with Somi quickly sitting on your meat.

Somi got her asshole plowed from the start, with Chaeyoung giving her pussy a little fingering before allowing Somi's boyfriend to take it. All three of you attacked Somi hard, making sure she would feel completely overwhelmed. Her boyfriend is pumping her pussy, you are taking her ass, and Chaeyoung is groping her big tits. "Tell us how much you love it," Chaeyoung asked. But Somi couldn't answer, as the pumps got faster and the groping got harder. "AHHHHH. "YEAHHHH!" was all she could scream, sandwiched between two horny men destroying her tight holes and a slutty friend who couldn't help but follow everybody else into their addiction towards her tits.

Chaeyoung sat her pussy on Somi's beautiful face and grinded on it while you two kept stretching her out. Somi had turned into a fucktoy for all three of you, the perfect stress relief. The top cumslut. "Look at your boyfriend, Somi; tell him how much you want those cocks filling you up," Chaeyoung said, lifing her best friend's head out her pussy. "I want every inch of it," Somi said. "Then, are you gonna cum all over them?" her boyfriend replied.

"Yes, I will. AHHHHH. FUCK YEAH!" Somi screams as her body twists in orgasm after orgasm. For some seconds, it feels like she died and ascended to heaven, even if three devils were fucking the shit out of her and just couldn't stop. "OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!!!" she screamed as a squirt dropped out of her pussy.

But that wasn't enough, and it only made both of you pump her harder and Chaeyoung grope her harder. Tall, blonde, gorgeous, and full of milk in her chest, Somi was the perfect woman to get double penetrated at every possible turn. Chaeyoung enjoys it a lot, as she has her best friend's big boobs all by herself and gropes them nonstop. "Are you gonna fucking cum again?" she asks Somi. "YEAHHHHHHH, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Somi answers, unleashing even more juices from her cunt.

Somi quickly jumps to taste her ass from your cock, while Chaeyoung scoops her best friend's pussy juices. "We aren't done yet," she says as the two continue to suck both guys cocks sloppily. "You're so nasty," Somi's boyfriend says about Chaeyoung before putting her on the couch to fuck her pussy. "Lick my pussy while he fucks me," Chaeyoung orders to Somi, who dives down it. You, seeing Somi on all fours, stick your cock in her pussy as she sucks Chaeyoung's tits and massages her pussy.

Both guys now just want to finish. Meanwhile, Chaeyoung puts Somi's tits in her mouth as the Wasian beauty gets on top of her. The guys pump the girls out until Somi's boyfriend is the first to finish, dumping his long-awaited load into Chaeyoung's meaty pussy, with Somi licking it at the top. You soon follow, filling Somi's pussy full of cum, which falls right into Chaeyoung's waiting mouth.

All four of you are exhausted at this point. After a long hour of crazy fucking, each of your girlfriends is filled with cum from the other guy, which is the perfect way to end this great day. You and Chaeyoung take a shower after and head home. Somi's boyfriend follows suit. "See you tomorrow, baby.".

That day becomes a living memory in Somi's head. She thinks about it at night, masturbating herself as she remembers your cock doing wonders for her, from fucking her tits to finishing inside her, all the way to all those times you fucked her holes or let her savor Chaeyoung's ass from your cock. Somi knows she needs another day like this and will make sure to set it up herself next time.

The next day arrives, and this time, Somi is with a different friend, talking about some regular stuff until she changes the subject of the conversation.

"Giselle, I need something from you," Somi says.

"I'm all ears," Giselle replies.

"Can I have sex with your boyfriend? You can fuck mine too," Somi continues.

Giselle makes a shocked expression. "I'm not sure; I don't know if he's going to accept it.".

Somi tells her about her day with Chaeyoung, leaving Giselle in awe.

"I'll see what I can do."

#chaeyoung smut #somi smut #twice smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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aperrywilliams · 4 months ago

Text

More Than You Say (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

Part 1: More Than You Know

Part 3: More Than You Expect (the end)

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Spencer mulls over what you said and your love confession during your last fight. And he knows how deeply he fucked up this time. After admitting he is in love with you, Spencer wants to fix things. Are you willing to let him?

Word Count: 5.6k

TW: ANGST. Strong language. Mention of abduction, drug use, getting shot, death of relatives and loved ones, jail, and unsafe sex. If I forgot anything, let me know.

A/N: This is the aftermath of 'More Than You Know' from Spencer's POV. I'm not going to lie. This one ends worse than the previous one. The good news is that there is a third chance, meaning a third part. Maybe they will have luck in that one.

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Spencer doesn't know how long he has stood there, looking at the door you shut when you left. His first thought was to run after you, but he refrained.

What could he have said to you?

Sitting in the chair that you left vacant, he takes a deep breath. The room feels suffocating to him.

Your words keep reverberating in his brain, and Spencer wants to feel utterly surprised, but it would be a lie. Not that he precisely knew what was going on; it was more like he sensed something was off, and he ignored it.

Like a royal asshole.

The hurt in your eyes is something he knows he will never forget. Those kind eyes that were always welcoming and understanding, this time, only reflected betrayal and pain.

Spencer hates his mouth and the way his words can do so much harm.

Rewinding the past months in his brain, Spencer tries to figure out how you both ended like this.

You never told him how you felt, and Spencer is sure about it. He would have done something if you did.

He is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice Emily walking into the room.

"She told you, didn't she? You must have hella pissed her off," Emily muses. And Spencer can't help but return a confused look.

"Wait. You knew?"

Emily let out a frustrated sigh, sitting in front of Spencer.

"Sometimes I wonder why that amount of IQ doesn't pay off," she wonders. Seeing the man still clueless, she continues talking. "Spencer, possibly the only one who didn't know at this point was you."

Great. Everyone knew but him. Spencer wants to dig a hole and disappear right now.

"Why she didn't tell me?"

The question is more to himself than Emily. She answers nonetheless.

"I'm not sure if she ever wanted you to know. If you hadn't pushed her the way you did, she would never have told you, I guess."

Spencer takes in Emily's words and starts questioning everything about you and him in the past months.

"I assumed so many things lately, and now I'm unsure if they are true or part of my imagination," he says, frustrated, raking his hands through his hair.

"You have the answers, Spencer. Even if you think you don't."

Spencer scoffs at that. He doesn't fucking know anything. That's the problem. He needs to fix something but doesn't know what it is.

"I need to talk to her," he decides, standing and walking to the door. Before he could cross the threshold, Emily calls his name.

"Reid, wait."

Spencer turns to see Emily. She has a stern look.

"Don't talk to her unless you know what you want to say."

Spencer's eyes narrow. He can't conceive of not talking to you right now. He wants to run to your place right away.

"What? But Emily, I need to know-"

Spencer argues, but Emily doesn't let him finish.

"You'll figure it out. Just don't rush it. She has been through a lot. At least you owe her that. Think about what she told you first."

Spencer doesn't know what to do—the compulsion to run after you clouds his senses, but Emily has a point. He doesn't know what to say. Yeah, he is sorry for what he said to you and how he treated you, but an 'I'm sorry' won't fix it.

Besides, until that day, Spencer thought you both were only friends, and you were okay with it. He only pegged all your apprehensions and the words of concern like a friend's worry.

It seems he did a great job ignoring what it was in front of his eyes.

You said you loved him. And Spencer has no reason to doubt your words, even if he told you he does.

Spencer leaves the conference room defeated and with a weight over his shoulders he hasn't felt in a long time.

As he passes your desk, he sees it empty, and his stomach clenches. It's like being in a parallel world where you are not next to him, and just imagining it disturbs him.

The rest of the team watches as Spencer wanders around the BAU like a lost puppy, wondering if this will make him really reflect on how he's been leading his life lately. They know the bond between you and Spencer is important to both of you, but they've also seen how it has deteriorated over time.

That night, as he steps into his apartment after work, he only wants to grab the phone and call you. But Emily's words start replaying again.

'You'll figure it out. At least you owe her that.'

Spencer opts to sit on the couch with the lights off and his head back.

He needs to fix this.

When he closes his eyes, his mind wanders to the day he met you.

He was a scared kid, a freshman FBI agent recruited by Jason Gideon. He put a foot in the bullpen that day, and Hotch was the first to greet him. His stern look was different from Gideon's and more intimidating for sure. He led Spencer to the conference room, where you were perched in a corner with a mug of coffee in your hands.

'This is SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It's her first day, too. Agent (Y/L/N), he is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid; he is joining the team as well.'

You glanced at him and rapidly stood from your spot, stretching your hand to him. He should have shaken it, but his germaphobe self kicked off.

'The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.'

After the words left his mouth, he wanted to be buried alive. You retracted your hand with an amused smile.

'I didn't know. But I guess we should skip the kiss part for now,' you said, and Spencer's cheeks burned in embarrassment. Seeing him all flustered, you quickly added. 'But It's good to know new things. I think I'll learn a lot from you, Dr. Reid.'

This time, Spencer's cheeks burned from more than embarrassment.

It might sound cliché to say that for the first time in his life, Spencer felt so comfortable with someone. You quickly became his best friend and unmatched support. People wondered why. To outsider's eyes, you both looked so different. You were more confident than him, with an extraordinary ability to listen and say the right words at the right time. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by either Hotch or Gideon, a thing he could not say about himself.

And, by far, you have been the only person there for him when Spencer has needed it the most.

He remembers having the vial in his hand. He stared at the item for a while, deciding whether to use it. It has been weeks since Hankel kidnapped him, and he stole the Dilaudid from his dead body.

He was feeling trapped and hopeless. Spencer thought he could handle it, but every day, it seemed worse than the previous one.

His feet carried him to your door that night. He knocked but didn't know why. Maybe he hoped to find some strength he didn't have.

You opened the door and glanced at him, confused. He wasn't okay, and he didn't look alright, either.

'Spencer? What are you doing here?' you asked, your voice laced with worry.

'I'm sorry I didn't call before coming.'

He didn't know how he managed to get words out of his mouth. Spencer was to a second to crumble.

'It's okay. What happened? Are you hurt?' Your eyes scanned his body for a sign of what was going on.

'I don't - I can't (Y/N). I can't do this. I need help.'

Spencer broke, sobbing at your door. You rushed to hug him; you didn't even care that you were in the middle of the hallway.

That night, Spencer confessed his sins, and he found nothing but understanding and support in you. He didn't know he deserved either of these things until he met you.

As you both got closer, he learned everything about you. In the same way that he confided his life to you, you did the same to him. And Spencer never hesitated when you needed him.

You called him sobbing that night. Your dad was suddenly admitted into the hospital due to an illness he hadn't told anyone before. You were his only close family member. Your mom left the country when your parents divorced a decade ago, and your two older siblings lived in other towns.

'Hey, I came the faster I could. What happened?' Spencer rushed into the hospital waiting room where you were. You darted your glassy eyes at him, with lips quivering.

'He isn't okay, Spencer. The doctor says he- oh God - he will not make it,' you broke, with a sob raking through you.

Spencer engulfed you in a tight embrace. You cried with your head on his chest. He would have given everything to rip off your pain and carry it himself.

You both stayed in the hospital that night. You at least could see your dad for a moment to say goodbye. At dawn the next day, he passed away.

Spencer remained with you through your grieving process and swore to be by your side and protect you for the rest of his life, no matter what.

And like that, life kept testing your bond with Spencer—failed relationships, elusive psychopaths, work injuries, friends gone, faked deaths, and so on. The BAU changed, but you both remained.

Sometimes, Spencer wondered if destiny was a real thing. Maybe with you, it was—his best friend.

He was truly happy having you in his life, but why sometimes did it feel like something was missing?

Spencer questioned his feelings about you for a long time. Was it something more than a platonic sentiment? Why was his heart filled with joy every time he saw your smile or heard your laugh? And it plugged with gloom when you were sad?

With time, Spencer was convinced he loved you but kept his mouth shut. He told himself he was over-reading the signs. And Spencer blamed his early lack of affection and inexperience in the heart's department. You undoubtedly didn't feel the way he did, and he was creating a whole imaginary world that would crush the moment the bubble popped.

People around weren't helping either. After telling Morgan how he felt about you, he kept telling Spencer that he needed to make a move.

JJ, for her part, let out her insinuations about how he should do something and the high probability of his feelings being reciprocated.

But Spencer wasn't sure, and the risk of losing you for overstepping your bond terrified him, so he said nothing.

And things could have stayed that way, but a light of hope for him opened time after.

Morgan and Hotch had left the BAU, and the team was focused on trying to catch Scratch. At the same time, Spencer was dealing with his mom's illness and her recently diagnosed Alzheimer's. As always, you were there for him.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you to Houston?" you asked him, sitting on his couch one night.

"No. It's okay. It will be only two days," Spencer assured you. He felt terrible for lying to you. He never did that before, but he knew you would talk some sense to him about what he was doing on his trips to Mexico.

"Will you call me if you need anything?" you insisted, and Spencer could only think how much he wanted to hug and kiss you. But he won't do that. He can't do that without telling you he loves you. Not without risking losing you due to a stupid love confession.

Spencer was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice his lack of response to your question.

"Spencer? Are you okay?"

With still a semi-hazed brain, his hands reached yours, and his eyes locked with yours. A frown of worry appeared on your face.

"Have I ever told you how grateful I am for having you in my life?"

A blush crept from your neck to your cheeks. It wasn't the first time Spencer had told you something like that, but how he looked at you that night, with that intensity, was making you weak on the knees.

"Yeah. A couple of times, if I recall correctly," you replied, trying to sound casual, but inside, you were aflame with his gaze.

"I think I should say it more. And to show it like it really is," Spencer mumbled, and you were confused. What was he trying to say?

"You mean like buying me more coffees and bagels?" you joked. You always did that when you were nervous, and Spencer knew it.

In a bold move and without letting your hands go, he scooted closer to you on the couch.

It was now or never. Spencer knew then this was his chance, and if he didn't take it, he would never do it again.

"Can - can I tell you something?" he asked, flicking his gaze between your eyes and your lips back and forth.

You noticed the gesture and were about to combust. Why was Spencer looking at your lips like that?

"Yes." Your voice above a whisper, fearing it could falter if you spoke louder.

"I want to kiss you so bad right now," he whispered back, so close you could feel his breath fanning your face. Your lips parted to say something, but no words came from them. Instead, you were the one who closed the gap between you both and kissed him.

Spencer kissed you back immediately with such urgency that you could feel the longing and desperation on his lips.

Deepening the kiss, neither you nor he wanted to stop. Fearing if you did, the moment would vanish, and you would wake up from this beautiful dream.

Maybe this was the chance you both needed to confess your feelings for each other. But fate could be cruel more than once.

In the middle of that years-making kiss, your phone rang suddenly. The infamous sound made you both jump back and return to reality.

Still dazed, you fished the device from your pocket. Emily was calling. You didn't know what to do. Should you answer your phone and cut the moment? Or ignore it and grasp Spencer's lapels to kiss him again?

Your bewildered look made Spencer decide for you.

"You should take that. Could be important," he said, voice laced with doom. He knew what was coming. You wanted to argue, but maybe he was right. Reluctantly, you slid your finger on the green bottom.

"Emily?"

The team had a new case, and it was urgent. You needed to be on the tarmac in twenty minutes.

"Can we - can we talk about this later?"

You were unsure where you were standing. Sure, you felt the electricity of that kiss; you didn't imagine it. But maybe it wasn't like you were thinking. Perhaps it was just the heat of the moment. A lot of things were happening, and you both were vulnerable.

On his part, Spencer saw this as a sign. This wasn't the time or the place. He didn't feel prepared to face his true feelings at the moment.

"Sure. Uh, but now you should go; they are waiting."

The bad thing is you never talked about that again. You went with the team to Connecticut while Spencer left the following day, not to Houston like he said to you. He went to Mexico.

The next time you saw each other was with Spencer in a cell in Matamoros.

There are a lot of things Spencer regrets about that infamous trip. One of them is to lose his chance to know if he could have built something more with you. How could Spencer imagine having a relationship with you now? After he lied to you? After falling in disgrace like this? You deserved more than a broken man, incarcerated and lost. Spencer didn't want to drag you with him and his misery. He couldn't stand the idea of breaking your heart for a failed relationship, but he didn't want to lose you either. The reasonable middle ground for Spencer was keeping you like his friend, as it has been until now.

After Spencer was released from prison, neither you nor him spoke of that night. He presumed you regretted kissing him, and he was afraid to say what it meant to him.

Everything got lost after his release. Spencer became reckless and superficial. He was a different guy. But everyone dispensed him due to the traumatic events he endured. You did it, too. You had stayed and committed yourself to him in the role you knew so well: as his best friend.

And that's what Spencer saw since then: you by his side, supporting him like the good friend you were. And he thought it was okay. You were alright, and he should have to live with the idea of not knowing what it could be to love you openly.

That's how Spencer immersed himself in a shallow and meaningless life, failing his true self and becoming a person he despised but who shielded him in his vulnerability.

The cell phone ringtone brings Spencer back from his thoughts. He quickly pulls it out of his pants pocket, secretly hoping it's you. It's a long shot, but he wants it so badly to be real. A short-lived wish because the caller ID shows it's Gabrielle, his late conquest.

Spencer lets out a heavy sigh, and your words come back to him.

'No! It's everything! Can't you see it? It's the way you lie to your teammates and the way you do your job like it doesn't matter to you. The way you turn everything into something meaningless. The relationships you have, your job, your friends. Everything!'

Spencer feels his body stiffen. It's like he's looking at himself from the outside, and what he sees terrifies him.

That's what you've seen in him, and he understands why you've walked away from him like that. The person he has become is to blame for your pain, and Spencer feels sick. He, who swore years ago to protect you from all harm, is the one who caused this.

'Do you really believe that? Do you really believe your self-destructive behavior only affects you? I didn't think you were so selfish, Spencer.'

Selfish. It's what he's been all along. And you had to be the one to throw it in his face to realize his mistakes.

Spencer doesn't have the energy or courage to answer the phone. He knows why Gabrielle is calling, and what 24 hours ago would have been a tempting offer now feels futile and pointless.

It's meaningless because the only truly significant relationship he has wanted all along is with you, nobody else.

And possibly you are in your apartment thinking Spencer is an asshole, believing he doesn't value you, that he doesn't care about you, that he doesn't love you. And while the asshole part it's true, he does care about you, and he does love you.

It may be too overdue, but it's time for you to know, he thinks.

With a resolution Spencer didn't know he had, he stands from his couch to grab his coat and keys. He is going to reveal his secret tonight. He is going to admit his underlying love to you and stop his charade.

During the car ride, he is having a pep talk with himself, trying not to lose the bravery that made him leave the apartment.

You have to know. He has to clear things up and get you back.

Spencer keeps repeating the words until he's at your door, calling with two solid knocks.

After some rustling from inside, the door opens, revealing your unhappy face. Spencer knows he deserves all the bitterness and pettiness you have and will throw at him, and he's going to take it all.

"You didn't check the clock before coming here, did you?" is the first thing coming from your mouth.

Spencer takes in your appearance. You're in your pajamas already, but the bags under your eyes tell him you weren't sleeping, and possibly you have been tossing and turning for hours now.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late, but we need to talk."

The roll in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by him; it's like you weren't surprised by him standing at your door at 2 am.

"Spencer, if you want to talk about what happened this afternoon, I don't think-"

"Please? I know I behaved like an idiot today, but please let me explain," Spencer insists, and he really hopes you don't close the door in his face.

You contemplate your response for a second. Spencer knows you know he won't leave without talking to you, so you open the door just enough and signal him to come inside.

Spencer comes in and waits for you to close the door. The resolve with which he came is fading as his brain tries to organize his ideas and all the things he wants to say.

You gesture towards the couch, and he takes a seat. You too, but in a chair next to it.

Where to start? Spencer thinks about just blurting out everything and spilling his heart in front of you. But you are the one who starts talking.

"Why are you here?"

Spencer clears his throat. "I - I want to apologize for what I said. I hurt you, and I didn't mean to do that. I really didn't mean to do that."

"But you did," you say flatly, and he nods.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I let you down, and I feel horrible misreading the whole thing. I should have noticed."

Spencer barely blinks, trying to gauge your expression. You're difficult to read right now, and he hates it. You guys always were so good at reading each other, and he lost that ability, too.

"If you are talking about-" You seem ready to say something to not address the subject, so Spencer only blurts his question.

"Is it true? Do you love me?"

You sigh, shaking your head.

"Spencer-" You start, but Spencer doesn't budge. He needs to know and to hear it from you.

"Please, tell me," he pleads, and you let out a bitter chuckle.

"Why? It doesn't matter. It won't change where we stand right now," you convey with some treacherous tears fighting to fall. You avert his gaze.

Spencer stands and kneels in front of you.

"Please, look at me."

His index tilts up your chin so he can see your eyes. You surprisingly let him do that. "I need to know if you feel the same way I do about you," he whispers, his eyes fixated on yours. You furrow your eyebrows.

"What are you talking about?" One of his hands tenderly poses on your cheek to dry some of the tears falling.

"What I'm trying to say is that I love you. I have always loved you."

God, it feels so good to say it finally.

"W - What?" You look perplexed, and Spencer knows this is the opportunity he has to come clean with you.

"I know I didn't tell you sooner. It's long overdue, and even if I have my reasons, they don't excuse how I have treated you in the past months. But I promise things will change. I won't hide this anymore. Please, give me a chance to love you."

You seem overwhelmed with the information, so much so that you stand and start to pace in your living room. Spencer gets up as well and follows you with his eyes.

"Spencer, how- I - I don't understand. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's true. You are the one for me. I love you (Y/N)."

It seems now that he's said it once, Spencer spares no effort in repeating he loves you over and over again.

You stop pacing to look at him, an accusatory look in your eyes.

"Why now?"

Spencer understands your apprehensions. Of course, after everything that had taken place in the last hours, he comes to your door proclaiming his love. Logically, you are confused and don't expect it.

"Do you remember the night we kissed? The night before I went to Mexico?" He asks, and your gaze softens at the mention of that night.

"I do. But I thought you forgot," you say, casting your eyes down.

"How could I?! I wanted to do that for a long time. I couldn't believe we were finally kissing. It was like a dream come true for me," he recognizes, shorting the distance between you both and tentatively cupping your cheeks. You let him.

"But - but after the call, you - you told me-" you stutter, recalling the details of what occurred there.

"I know. I chickened out. After Emily's call, I thought it was a sign and not the right moment, so I backed off. There is no single day I don't regret doing that." Spencer's eyes glasses over, thinking about how foolish and blind he has been all this time.

"Why you didn't tell me?" you murmur, almost in a whisper.

"Because I'm stupid. Because I thought I was protecting you. I was in jail (Y/N); what could I have offered you?"

You huff and shake your head, putting distance between you both. Spencer's arms fall to his sides.

"And after that?"

Spencer knows you're talking about the time after he was released from Milburn. He gives you an apologetic look before answering.

"I thought I was doing the same. That having you as a friend was better than not having you at all," he concedes. Maybe it's the hardest part for him to admit because, when that happened, everything started to crumble between you both.

"So that was the friendship bullshit," you sneer. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. And I'll always be sorry for doing that to you. But I promise you, if you let me, things will change."

You go silent, mulling over his words, and it's like your defenses start to turn down. You look at Spencer with a mix of emotions he can't still crack. Maybe his words are void for you right now. That's why Spencer thinks showing you what he means is better than keep talking.

He slowly approaches you without breaking eye contact. With one of his hands, Spencer tilts up your chin while he leans down. He can hear the air hitching in your throat. His heart beats faster and faster as he gets closer and closer.

You do not move a muscle, nor do you reject his touch.

When his lips make contact with yours, you both let out a sigh you were holding. Your lips begin to move in sync. Spencer is kissing you, you're kissing him back, and there is no phone ringing.

Spencer gives you everything he has, trying to express he is yours and no one else's. You are both lost in a kiss that seems increasingly urgent and desperate.

But suddenly, you push him away. It's as if a jolt of electricity has struck you, shoving you away from him.

"Please, don't. Don't -" you mewl in a broken voice. Still dazed, Spencer looks at you, baffled.

"W - What's wrong?"

"I - I can't," you mumble, running your hands through your hair and shaking your head.

"Why not?" Spencer asks, and when you keep shaking your head and saying nothing, he starts to panic. "(Y/N), please. Talk to me."

"Spencer, I'm sorry. I can't do this," you repeat—this time with a steadier voice. "This isn't going to work."

Isn't it going to work? Spencer doesn't understand why you are saying that when you both just have admitted the truth.

"But I thought you loved me?"

Spencer's voice is small, frightened. It's as if, in five seconds, he went from the top of a mountain to a free fall into the void.

You look at him for a second, and it's like a realization hits you.

"So that's the reason? You are here and saying all these things because I told you I loved you?"

The accusing, defensive tone returns to you. And Spencer doesn't know what to do.

"No! I mean, yes! I thought a lot about what you told me. And I realized my feelings for you have always been there. That's why I'm here," he defends.

You insistently rub your eyes with your palms like someone who desperately wants to wake up from a dream.

"I'm sorry, but I can't believe you."

Spencer's eyes widen. You've closed yourself completely and thrown the key out the window.

"But it's true! I can prove it. I can be a better man for you if you give me a chance. Please." Spencer is begging, tears rolling down his face, but he doesn't care. He will do anything to get you back at this point.

"Spencer. Listen to me. Things don't work like that, okay? You hurt me, and I'm not talking about my romantic feelings for you. You questioned my loyalty as your friend. Do you know how that made me feel?"

"I'm sorry-" he tries to explain, but you cut him off.

"It's true what I told you earlier. I chose our friendship above acting on my love for you. And it seems I did it in vain."

Spencer shakes his head. "No, no, no. Don't say that. I know I did wrong, but I can make it up to you."

Can he really?

"Spencer, you need to make it up, but to you, not to me." Spencer's head snaps up.

"What - what are you talking about?"

You let out a deep sigh. "We both know you know."

"Prison," he confirms, embarrassed of what that word implies.

"And how your life has been since then."

"I know I fucked up. I hurt you-"

If thousands of apologies are necessary, he's willing to give you all of them.

"You hurt people, Spencer! Not only me! You fooled around; you have been treating women poorly and playing with their feelings. You have lied to your friends and pushed them away. And the worst part is you have been hurting yourself with all this!"

Spencer's eyes squeeze shut. You are right. He knows that. But he is so terrified about you walking away from him that he can't see the big picture.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I know you do. But I can't do this anymore. Supporting your self-destructive actions is not helping anyone."

"I know. And I'm not asking you to do that. I'm asking for a chance to show you I'm the guy who would do anything for you. Please?"

"Spencer, that's exactly my point. You must heal because of yourself, not because of me or anyone for that matter."

"I'm not-"

"Listen to yourself. You say you want a chance? But you only ask it after I poured out my heart this afternoon. How can I trust you when you have only shown me this version of you? Don't ask me to believe it."

There are a lot of things Spencer knows he has to do. He has a lot of mistakes to face and make amends for. But he fails to realize that the first amendment he needs to make is to himself.

That's what you have been trying to tell him.

"Are you saying there are no us?"

It's almost a rhetorical question at this point, but Spencer asks it anyway.

You look at him with sorrow in your eyes.

"There is nothing I want more than to be in your life, but in these circumstances, I don't think it's possible. Not when you must clear your head and think about what you want first. For real."

"But I love you; please don't ask me to step away."

It's another plea. The last resource Spencer has in him.

"I'm not asking you for that. What I'm asking you is if you really love me, don't drag me with you in this process you're going through now. I can't - I don't have the strength to stay by your side in this one. I'm sorry, but I need to think of myself this time."

"(Y/N)-"

"And now, I ask you for you to leave, please. It's late," you say, walking to the entrance and opening the front door.

It's late. Those words mean so much more to Spencer now.

It's too late for a love confession when you've already ruined everything that supported it.

It's too late to try to fix the mistakes he has made with you. Even tonight, it was daring to come to your home late at night, being inconsiderate of your space and time.

There is no way he can do something now without hurting you.

Maybe time will give him a hand, and the wounds will soften. Spencer hopes that by making real changes in his life, you will see he really meant everything he has said tonight.

What Spencer doesn't know is that you won't be around to see those changes happen.

——————

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

For those who asked for a part 2 (I'm so sorry for the delay): @gghostwriter @sebastiansstanswhore @evvy96 @pillsbury-doughgirl @singinghamtaro-blog @atlantica-angels @lukesmainpiece @ladyofhellhounds @gubzgirl @shqwqrma @hereforfun-31 @reader1402

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #more than you say #more than you know #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

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no-onespecial · 8 months ago

Text

The comfort in the darkest times

TRIGGER WARNING

A little summary; Play the audio for better experience, Mind games by Sickick is the song used (AUDIO WARNING) use headphones preferably, other than that, Enjoy <3

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, read at your own risk, talks about DV, virgin reader, alcohol, riding, strap usage, fingering, knee riding, cheating, ABUSE(lemme know if i forgot something)

You and Ellie have been friends ever since you two were little. Like ever since you two could remember. She has been there for you and you have been there for her. You were both almost glued to the hip since you spent so much time together. There was always a nagging feeling inside you that you couldn’t just comprehend. Like something was eating you up but you always brushed it off. It didn’t really matter to you anyways so it was best to leave it alone.

Ever since you started dating your girlfriend, Mandy, things have been different. The first months you two were together, she was amazing, kind, loving…but something changed in her at the four month mark. She started to criticize you, your clothes, actions, the way you talked, everything. At first you brushed it off as just being a little insecure or something like that but it started to get worse. Most of your friends started pushing away from you because of her. Her attitude towards everyone was mean and nasty, but you couldn’t say anything about it. It was like she had complete power over you and you were helpless. She had her eyes on you every second of the day and you couldn’t even do anything about it. Ellie didn’t like her at all but she never said anything about her because she didn’t want to cause a fight between you two. Mandy tried to push Ellie away from you and destroy your friendship with her but she couldn’t. Ellie never wanted to leave you and you didn’t want to leave her. You have known for so long so you weren’t willing to let go of that friendship. You and Ellie kept hanging around even if Mandy didn’t like that. Because she knew that you wouldn’t just drop Ellie and it would’ve been a pointless fight.

Today was a normal day for you. You were just hanging in Ellie’s place, just playing some video games and talking about random stuff. You see a text pop up on your phone's screen and it’s from Mandy.

Ellie sees the texts and she rolls her eyes;

-”What does she want now?” Her voice is filled with annoyance.

-”Just asking me where I am.”

After you and Ellie have finished playing, you go back home. You get inside your shared house with Mandy and before you even know it or can react, she slaps you hard across the face. You move your hand on your cheek. It stung so much. You could feel tears forming in your eyes and when you pulled your hand down, there was a small amount of blood on your hand. Her nails have scratched a small gash on your cheek and all you could do is just stare at her. This was the first time Mandy has raised her hand at you and you didn’t know how to react to it.

After that, things got even worse. She would treat you as a slave, punching back and everytime she kicked you out, you would go to Ellie’s place and she would comfort you. After one of your biggest fights with Mandy, she had hit you multiple times, degraded you, spat on you and kicked you. You were a crying mess on the floor, afraid to move or even let out a sound. You were terrified of her and she knew it. She took great pleasure making your life miserable and you knew that you couldn’t run away from her. She would find you and do something more to you. Those thoughts alone terrified you so much that you decided to just do as she says so she wouldn’t get angry.

Mandy looked at you on the floor, blood dripping down your nose and tears falling down your face;

-”You look pathetic.” Her voice was filled with disgust and rage. You just closed your eyes and waited for her to do something again but she didn’t. Instead, you heard the front door opening and closing. Mandy had left to god knows where. You sat up slowly, holding your side in pain while still crying uncontrollably. The carpet was stained in your tears and blood, looking like a crime scene. You took out your phone and you texted Ellie;

After a while, you hear Ellie ringing the doorbell and you run towards the door. She’s greeted with you, running into her arms in tears. She holds you, stroking your hair before pulling back. She notices the blood on your face and immediately gets panicked look on her face;

-”What happened? What the hell did she do to you? Are you okay?”

You just shake your head and bury your face into her shoulder. She comforts you for a little while before you two walk into the house. After you have explained everything to Ellie, she stays silent for a moment before she gets up and grabs a bottle of tequila. She puts the bottle right in front of you as she sits back down.

-”What’s that for? And where did you get that?” You stare at the bottle in confusion.

-”I bought it yesterday because I thought we could drink it together with Jesse and Dina but it looks like you need it right now.”

She offers the bottle to you, her eyes never leaving yours. You take the bottle, opening the cap slowly and taking a sip of it while keeping eye contact with her. The alcohol burns in your throat, making your eyes water a little. You get the urge to cough but you decide to clear your throat to see if it helps. Ellie takes the bottle from and takes a big sip of it as well.

You two keep drinking and just talking about the whole fight between you and Mandy, unknowingly getting closer and closer to each other. You feel Ellie’s thigh, touching yours and that’s when you realize how close you two are. Ellie leans her face closer to yours, her breath feeling hot on your skin. You glance down at her lips and then back at her eyes. She looks…hot…

That’s something you never expected to think about your best friend but you did. The air gets stuck in your throat as you two keep your eyes locked with each other, your hearts pounding wildly in your chests and your breaths heavy and short. Ellie glances down at your lips and before you even know it, she’s kissing you with so much passion.

You feel her hand moving to the back of your head and the other hand grapes you by your waist. She pulls you into her lap, pushing her tongue inside your mouth, her hand on the back of your head, grabbing onto your hair. You arch your back, wrapping your arms around her neck. Ellie’s hands run down your body, under your shirt. You can feel her cold fingers, lifting your shirt up and it sends shivers down your spine. The alcohol in both of your systems is taking away all the morals you two have and you just let this happen.

It’s bad…cheating on your partner but it still feels so right. Ellie is so gentle with you. She’s moving her hands up your body slowly and gently so that it tickles. You both hear a car pulling outside and you know that if you get caught, there’s hell to pay. You quickly get up from Ellie’s lap,grabbing the bottle of tequila and hiding it behind the couch. You both run inside your closet, closing the door behind you just as Mandy gets inside the house. She’s on the phone and she sounds pissed. You are pressed against Ellie, the closet being tiny but spacious enough for the both of you. You hold your breath and just pray that Mandy doesn't open the closet door and see you there with Ellie.

You feel Ellie’s leg between your legs, slowly rising up until her thigh presses against your cunt. You almost gasp out loud but you manage to cover your mouth. She puts her hands on your hips and starts pressing your body down a little, grinding your cunt against her thigh. Your mind goes completely blank and the only thing you can do is to stay quiet.

She starts moving your hips a bit faster, sending waves of pleasure through you.* Is this how it feels like?* you think to yourself. It feels so good, too good but you know that if you make even a sound, Mandy will hear you. Ellie leans her face towards your neck and whispers in your ear, her breath hitting your neck while she still grinds your body down against her thigh.

-”Don’t let her hear you…” She’s breathless, eager to make you feel good. Mandy walks into your shared bedroom, just a few feet away from where you two are. She’s still on the phone but you can’t even hear what she's saying because you are too focused on not making a sound.

Ellie lowers her leg slowly, causing you to feel sad until you feel her hand, running under your jeans and underwear. Her cold fingers reach your wet cunt, causing you to jolt a little. She moves one hand over your mouth as two fingers enter your wet core. You’re breathless, too scared to make a sound or move as she starts moving her fingers in and out slowly. You grab onto her shoulders as she starts to move her fingers faster. You both look into each other's eyes, yours widened and her narrowed. Ellie doesn’t break eye contact with you, not even for a second. Ellie can feel that you’re close to cumming and she smiles, whispering again softly;

-”Cum on my fingers.”

That sentence was enough for you to get over the edge. Her words linger in your ears as you reach the peak. You can feel your cum, slowly dripping down your thigh. Ellie slowly pulls her fingers out before licking them. She looks you in the eye as she does so and you feel weak in the knees. It’s so wrong but also…Right.

You hear Mandy leaving the room, still on the phone as her voice echoes through the house as she leaves. You breathe out a small sigh of relief but you don’t even have time to think. Ellie is now kissing your neck, nibbling your skin softly. You moan out a breathy, slow moan as you try to push Ellie away;

-”Ellie…W…we can’t…”

-”Not here. Let’s go to my place.” She cuts you off, her voice a little raspy.

At Ellie’s place, you’re laying on her bed, naked and panting like a dog that needs water with Ellie between your legs, eating you out like she’s been starved for months. You grab Ellie’s hair, sounding like pornstars do in the films. Ellie moves her tongue slowly on your cunt, her fingers sliding fast in and out.

-”Just like that baby…say my name…” Her breath hitting your wet core.

-”E…ell….ellie…” You pant, your voice breathy and harsh.

-”Fuck…you taste so good…”

Your grip on her hair gets tighter, the feeling in your stomach getting stronger and stronger. Your clit is swollen, throbbing from the excitement and anticipation. Ellie lifts your legs over her shoulders, digging her tongue deep into your wet, throbbing pussy. Your back arches, hands falling on your sides and gripping the sheets as hard as you can, your knuckles turning white. Her tongue feels so good. The movements giving you extreme amounts of pleasure.

Ellie grabs you by your hips, rocking your body on her mouth as she’s lapping every last bit of your cum in her mouth. As you come down from your high, she kisses your thighs, biting it softly. She slowly gets up, her face red and wet. Ellie lowers your legs as she gets up. You look up to her, your mouth watering and whole body shaking. Ellie gets between your legs, resting your legs on her hips. You glance down, her strap hovering over your lower stomach.

-”E…ellie…I…I have…This is m…my first t…time…”

-”I know. Just take a deep breath and relax your body. I will be gentle. I promise.”

You do as she says and close your eyes. Ellie moves her hip back a little, hovering the tip just right outside your core. She slowly pushes the tip in and stops, giving you time to get used to it. You breathe slowly in and out, preparing yourself for what’s about to come. Ellie pushes her hip forward, pushing the rest of the strap in. A small squeak escapes your lips. The feeling of the strap inside your throbbing pussy is overwhelming. She starts rocking her hips back and front, the strap sliding perfectly. As you get used to the feeling, Ellie starts to speed up more and more.

As she speeds up even more and more, the sounds get louder. You moan out loudly, your voice cracking and breathless.

-”Such a good girl…You’re mine now…” She whispers harshly, her hands gripping your waist tightly.

-”Ellie! I…I…I can’t…” You scream out. You still can feel your cum, falling down onto the sheets. Ellie keeps pumping the strap in and out roughly, making you scream even louder, grip the sheets harder than ever. She wants you to feel good and she’s doing everything to let you know that. She suddenly stops. She pulls the strap out and lays down next to you.

-”Get on top baby.” She commands, her eyes wandering around your body. You slowly get up on top of her, your cunt feeling cold as you hover over her strap. Ellie guides the strap in. She grabs your hips, pushing you down and moving your lower body. The strap hits all the right spots, causing you to scream out her name. You grab onto the headboard of the bed, banging it against the wall while you howl in pleasure.

-”Fuck…You look so good right now…Scream my name love…” She coos as she moves her other hand down. She presses her finger down on your clit, rubbing it to give you more pleasure.

-”She could never make you feel this good. Tell me how much you love this. Tell me that i’m the only one who can do this to you”

-”Y…You’re…you’re the only one El…ellie…I…This…this feels…too good…” You whimper out, rocking your body back and forth. You feel the knot in your stomach getting stronger and stronger as you start to reach your climax.

-”Ellie….Fuck…i’m…i’m about to c…CUM!” The scream that leaves your lips can only be described as the sound that you can only hear in porn films.

-”Good girl…Cum for me…Let it all out doll…”

And at that, you let yourself to let it all out, the climax reaching its peak. Your whole body shakes violently as you collapse on top of her. Ellie strokes your hair softly, soothing you as you come down from your high.

-”You’re such a good girl.” She hums softly in your ear, letting you just lay on top of her and calm down……

Hope you liked this <3

I take requests so lemme know in the comments!

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie smut #smut #rough smut #ellie the last of us #the last of us #ellie fanfic #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #mind games

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kiwriteswords · 20 days ago

Text

If put to the test, would you step back from the line of fire?

AN: This got out of hand!! But kinda became one of my favorite stories I have written! I was up WAY too late today and in between meetings at work finished it, so I hope you enjoy it!! Let me know what you think!

Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader

Word Count: 19k

Rating: Mature

Tags/TW: canon-typical themes, angst, fluff, injuries, fade-to-black smut, sexual tension, banters, enemies-to-lovers, suggestive comments.

Summary: New to the BAU, you quickly find yourself at odds with the unit's stoic leader, Aaron Hotchner. What starts as a clash of wills and a battle of stubbornness soon transforms into a connection neither of you anticipated. With each case you work, your fire-fueled banter and undeniable tension grow, challenging your carefully constructed walls. As you both navigate the line between professional rivals and something more, you're forced to confront the truth you’ve been hiding—from each other and yourselves. In a world where control is your armor, letting someone in could be the biggest risk you've ever taken.

The bullpen buzzed with the usual energy as you made your way to your desk, the new addition to the BAU. You knew the reputation Aaron Hotchner held in the unit: stoic, precise, and tough on new recruits—especially women. You’d heard the stories from the team about how he handled Emily's arrival and Jordan’s brief stint. You were determined not to let him rattle you.

But what you didn't expect was how quickly the two of you would clash.

"Agent Y/L/N," Hotch called out from his office, barely looking up from his paperwork. "I need that report on the recent case by the end of the hour. I hope you understand the urgency of deadlines here."

"I've been doing this job for a while, Hotchner," you replied with a clipped tone. "I don’t need a reminder on how to meet deadlines."

His eyes narrowed slightly, and a hint of a smirk played at the corner of his lips. "Good. Let’s see if your actions match your confidence."

The tension between you two was palpable, and the rest of the team took notice almost immediately.

"They fight like an old married couple," Derek muttered under his breath, nudging Emily as the two of you clashed in yet another heated debate. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, watching you stand toe-to-toe with Hotch—a rare sight, considering most people didn't dare to challenge his authority so openly.

"She's got guts," Emily said, raising her eyebrows in amusement. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone go head-to-head with Hotch like that. And he's actually... engaging?"

Derek let out a low chuckle. "Oh, he's definitely engaging. Usually, he shuts people down in seconds flat, but with her? He’s giving as good as he gets."

Emily grinned, shaking her head in disbelief. "Think they realize they're basically the same person?"

"Not a chance," Derek replied with a smirk. "They’re too stubborn to see it. And honestly, I’m not sure I want to be around when they do."

The rest of the team exchanged amused, almost disbelieving glances. It was clear they’d never seen Hotch behave like this before. He wasn't just tolerating your defiance; he seemed almost... entertained by it, as if he was finally facing someone who could match his intensity and push back just as hard.

And while you both seemed entirely focused on proving the other wrong, the team couldn’t help but notice the way Hotch's lips twitched ever so slightly when you fired back at him—a hint of a smile that suggested he was enjoying the sparring far more than he let on.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The case had taken a toll on everyone. It was late, the team was exhausted, and emotions were running high. As you laid out your plan to corner the unsub at the next location, Hotch cut you off mid-sentence.

"No, that won't work," he said firmly, his voice colder than usual. "You're making assumptions without enough evidence to back them up. We need to think this through logically."

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your temper in check. "I am thinking logically, Hotchner. If we don't act fast, we'll lose any chance we have of catching this guy before he strikes again. We have to take the risk."

"And that's exactly the problem," he snapped, his eyes boring into yours. "You're too impulsive. This job isn’t about charging in headfirst without a solid plan."

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, the frustration bubbling over. "I'm not impulsive! I’m trying to save lives, which, correct me if I’m wrong, is the point of this whole job. But you wouldn't know anything about taking risks, would you, Hotch? You always play it safe, no matter what it costs."

A flash of anger crossed his face, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering to a dangerously calm tone. "You don’t know a damn thing about what it costs, Y/L/N. I’m not playing it safe; I’m making sure my team comes home alive. Something you might want to consider before throwing yourself into situations you’re not ready for."

The team watched in stunned silence. No one dared to intervene as you and Hotch stared each other down, both too stubborn to back down. They were used to disagreements in the field, but this level of intensity was something new—even for Hotch.

"I’m not some rookie you can bully into submission," you said, voice shaking with barely restrained fury. "I’m here because I’m damn good at what I do. And maybe if you took your head out of your own ego for two seconds, you’d see that."

Hotch's jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually shout back. But instead, he spoke in that calm, unnervingly quiet voice of his. "The minute your 'damn good' plan puts any of my team at risk, I’ll pull you off this case so fast, you won’t know what hit you."

The team exchanged uneasy glances. It was clear this wasn’t just about the case—it was about control, about power, and about two people who couldn’t stand the fact that they met their match in each other.

As you turned on your heel to walk away, you couldn’t help but notice the looks on the faces of your colleagues. They weren't just surprised by how fiercely you stood up to Hotch—they were stunned that he actually seemed to respect you more for it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The case wrapped up successfully, just as you had predicted. Your plan, the one Hotch had so firmly shot down, ended up being the key to cornering the unsub. It wasn’t without risks, but in the end, it worked, and no one could argue with the results.

As the team gathered their gear, Hotch remained silent, his face stoic as always, though there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—a mix of reluctant admiration and irritation that he couldn’t quite mask.

Rossi, ever the perceptive one, sidled up to Hotch with a knowing smile. "You know, Aaron," he said, his tone dripping with amusement, "it wouldn’t kill you to admit when you’re wrong. I mean, it's not every day someone out-thinks the great Aaron Hotchner."

Hotch shot Rossi a pointed look, his jaw tightening just slightly. "I wasn’t wrong," he muttered defensively. "I was... cautious."

Rossi let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Cautious? Is that what we’re calling it now?" He cast a glance in your direction, where you stood a little ways off, giving instructions to a local officer. "She was right, you know. And from the look on your face, I'd say you know it too."

Hotch's gaze flicked back to you, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at his lips before he quickly wiped it away. "She was lucky," he said, more to himself than to Rossi, as if trying to convince himself of that fact.

Rossi raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Right. Lucky.”

Hotch opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. Instead, he gave a noncommittal grunt and turned his attention back to his paperwork, his expression a mask of irritation mixed with something that looked suspiciously like pride.

"You’re a tough nut to crack," Rossi said, his tone softer now, more serious. "But maybe that’s exactly why she’s the perfect match for you."

Hotch shot Rossi a glare, but it lacked its usual sharpness. "Don’t start, Rossi," he warned, though there was no real heat in his voice.

Rossi simply laughed, clapping Hotch on the shoulder. "Just saying, my friend. Sooner or later, you might want to let that wall of yours come down—before she knocks it down for you."

As Rossi walked away, Hotch allowed himself one last glance in your direction. He'd never admit it out loud, but in that moment, he couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for you—along with a nagging realization that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't the last time you'd get under his skin.

But he wasn't ready to give you the satisfaction of knowing that. Not yet.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Weeks passed, and while your clashes with Hotch became routine, you couldn't deny that you had developed a strange rhythm with him. You knew each other’s moves like pieces on a chessboard—always anticipating, always one step ahead.

Despite your frequent arguments, there was a mutual respect building beneath the surface that neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

During a late-night case discussion, Hotch had his arms crossed, leaning against the table. "Your theory is flawed," he said, his voice laced with skepticism.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to back down. "It’s not flawed. You’re just too stubborn to admit that my way might actually work."

Hotch raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with a challenge. "If I admit you're right, does that mean you'll stop trying to strangle me in these meetings?"

Your lips twisted into a smirk. "Don't flatter yourself, Hotchner. If I ever strangle you, it’ll be out of pure frustration."

Hotch leaned in, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "Oh, Y/N, I didn’t know you were into that."

You blinked in surprise, your cheeks heating slightly at his boldness, but you quickly recovered. "Only if it shuts you up," you shot back, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

The rest of the team watched from a distance, exchanging amused glances. They could see the crackling energy between you two, even if you both stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The air between you and Hotch was still charged, the underlying tension refusing to fade. The rest of the team had taken to watching your interactions like a live sport—wondering who would land the next verbal blow.

You were in the middle of the bullpen, poring over case files, when Hotch approached, his expression as stern as ever. "Y/L/N," he said, his tone clipped and professional, "I need your analysis on the suspect's profile by end of day. And make sure it’s thorough this time."

You looked up, eyebrow arched. "Oh, don’t worry, Hotchner. I’ll make it as ‘thorough’ as you like," you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wouldn’t want you to have to redo it when you realize I was right all along."

Hotch’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of irritation sparking to life. "This isn’t a contest, Y/L/N. It’s about accuracy and professionalism—two things you might want to brush up on."

You stood up, matching his gaze with equal intensity. "And maybe if you stopped micromanaging every move I make, you’d see that I know exactly what I’m doing."

The tension between you was thick enough to cut with a knife, both of you glaring at each other like two opposing forces locked in an endless struggle. The bullpen went silent, eyes darting between the two of you in surprise at how openly you challenged him—again.

Hotch opened his mouth to retort, but then he paused, his gaze softening just a fraction. He seemed to consider his next words carefully, as if he knew he was about to cross a line he wasn’t ready to cross.

"You know," he said slowly, his voice dangerously calm, "for someone who claims to know what they're doing, you spend a lot of time second-guessing your decisions. Almost like you’re afraid to be wrong."

You bristled, feeling the sting of his words hit a little too close to home. "I’m not afraid to be wrong," you shot back, eyes blazing with defiance. "I’m just not used to being treated like an amateur by someone who refuses to admit when they’re outmatched."

Hotch’s lips twitched, a brief flash of something resembling a smile crossing his face before he quickly hid it. "Outmatched? By you?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "If that’s what keeps you motivated, Agent Y/L/N, then by all means—keep believing it."

Before you could fire back, Rossi’s voice broke through the tension. "You two done sparring, or should we set up a ring in the conference room?" he quipped, amusement dancing in his eyes.

The rest of the team chuckled, clearly entertained by the ongoing battle between you and Hotch. Despite their jokes, they were all aware that there was something different about the way Hotch responded to you—how he engaged with you in a way he didn’t with anyone else.

"You know," Morgan added with a grin, "most people don’t stand up to Hotch like that. You must really like getting on his bad side."

"She’s practically setting up camp there," Garcia chimed in with a wink. "It’s like their own twisted form of bonding."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Please. If I ever start bonding with Hotchner, you have my permission to stage an intervention."

Hotch cleared his throat, shooting the team a look that was more amused than annoyed. "Alright, that's enough," he said, but there was a softness to his tone that wasn't there before, a hint that maybe—just maybe—he respected you for pushing back.

As the team dispersed, Hotch caught your gaze one last time. The moment was brief, but it lingered just long enough to make you question whether all this fighting was really about animosity—or if it was something else altogether.

And just like that, the fire between you reignited, burning hotter than ever.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The team was in the middle of a tense operation, a situation that demanded quick thinking and decisive action. You had taken a calculated risk, making a call in the field that didn't go as planned. The unsub got away, and while no one was hurt, it set the case back significantly.

The second you returned to the makeshift command center, Hotch was waiting for you, his eyes dark and unreadable. You barely had a chance to open your mouth before he was on you.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he barked, stepping closer, his voice rough with barely restrained anger. "That decision of yours just put everyone at risk, and I'm not sure we can afford that kind of recklessness again."

You shot back, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I was thinking that if we didn’t take the shot, we’d lose our best lead! But of course, you'd rather sit around playing it safe while the unsub walks free!"

Hotch's eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack. "This isn't about playing it safe, Y/L/N! It's about not acting like a reckless amateur who puts the entire team's lives at risk because they have something to prove!"

Your hands shook with the force of your frustration, and before you could stop yourself, you snapped, "Oh, spare me the lecture, Hotchner! You act like you're the only one who knows how to do this job, but the truth is, you're just terrified of making a mistake. You’re so damn scared of letting anyone in that you push people away the second they don’t fit your perfect mold!"

The words seemed to hit Hotch harder than you expected, his eyes darkening even further. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerously quiet tone. "You think you know me, Y/L/N? You don’t know a damn thing. At least I’m not so afraid of being alone that I act like I don’t need anyone. You're more isolated than anyone on this team, and the saddest part? You overcompensate by pretending you don’t care."

Your breath hitched, but you were too angry to back down. "Oh, that's rich coming from you, Hotchner! The great Aaron Hotchner, who’s too afraid to be human around us because it might make him seem weak. You can't even let people in enough to let them see that you're a father first, can you? You act like this job is all that defines you, but deep down, you know you're failing at the one thing that really matters."

The moment the words left your mouth, you saw the flash of pain in Hotch's eyes—a wound laid bare for everyone to see. But before you could take it back, before you could even blink, Hotch struck back, and this time, it was a direct hit.

"You don’t get to talk to me about failure," he said, voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt. "You walk around here like you have something to prove, like if you’re tough enough, no one will notice how desperately you need to be part of something—anything—to avoid facing how alone you really are. But here's the truth: no matter how loud you are, no matter how many arguments you win, you’re still just trying to convince yourself that you’re enough."

The team collectively held their breath, the weight of the confrontation settling over them like a dark cloud. You could see the shock and discomfort on their faces, how they tried to look away as if that would lessen the impact of the words you and Hotch had just exchanged.

You opened your mouth, ready to deliver one final blow, but something in his eyes stopped you. The hurt, the frustration, the betrayal—it was all there, mirrored in your own gaze. And you knew, in that moment, that you’d gone too far. So had he.

Before either of you could say another word, a voice crackled over the comms, interrupting the heated exchange. "We have a new lead on the unsub," Garcia’s voice came through, urgent and breathless. "I need you back at the command center, ASAP."

The tension snapped, and you both pulled back, breathing hard, eyes locked in a shared look of something like regret. You could see it—the recognition that the words you’d thrown at each other couldn’t be taken back.

Without a word, you turned and walked away, your shoulders tense, refusing to let anyone see how deeply the argument had cut. Hotch stood there for a moment longer, his face an unreadable mask, before he, too, walked in the opposite direction, his movements stiff and deliberate.

As you both moved to your respective corners, the team exchanged glances—expressions of concern, sadness, and a little fear. Even they could tell that this fight had gone way beyond professional differences. It had become personal. Too personal.

"You think they'll be okay?" JJ asked softly, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

Rossi shook his head, his face lined with worry. "Not sure," he said, glancing over at the two of you from a distance. "That was more than just anger. That was hurt. And that’s a lot harder to come back from."

Derek looked from you to Hotch and back again, his face serious. "They both know they crossed a line," he said quietly. "But the question is, can they find their way back?"

Hotch knew he’d struck too close to home, just as you did. The damage was done, and as much as you both wanted to pretend it didn’t matter, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had changed forever.

And for the first time since you joined the BAU, neither of you was sure how to fix it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In the days that followed your explosive argument, neither you nor Hotch said a word about what had happened. Both of you were too stubborn to apologize, too proud to admit that you might have gone too far. But even as the tension between you remained thick and uncomfortable, something in the way you interacted began to shift.

Despite your so-called hatred, you and Hotch started doing little things for each other—things that neither of you ever mentioned aloud. He'd leave a coffee on your desk, exactly how you liked it, when you’d had a particularly rough night. You’d order lunch for him when he was too buried in paperwork to take a break. It was as if you were both trying to say "I'm sorry" without actually uttering the words.

The team noticed the change, the way you two danced around each other, trying to make up for the damage in the only way you knew how—without acknowledging it outright.

And whenever one of you tried to express gratitude, it always came out as an insult wrapped in sarcasm.

"Thanks for the coffee, Hotchner," you said one morning, not meeting his eyes. The words were gruff, but there was a softness beneath them that you couldn’t quite hide. "I didn’t realize you were capable of being considerate."

Hotch shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Don’t get used to it, Y/L/N," he replied, voice laced with mock indifference. "Just trying to keep you from falling asleep in the middle of your presentations. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself in front of the team."

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile breaking through despite your best efforts to stay annoyed. "Oh please, Hotchner. If I did fall asleep, it’d probably be because your voice has all the excitement of a tax seminar."

He gave a small chuckle, the tension between you two easing just slightly, even if neither of you would admit it. It was as if every sarcastic comment and light jab carried with it a hidden message—"I’m sorry," "I didn’t mean it," "I care more than I should."

And so, the unspoken apologies continued, buried beneath layers of pride and wrapped in your shared rhythm of bickering. The gestures were subtle but unmistakable, a silent acknowledgment that despite the walls you both put up, you were trying to make things right in the only way you knew how.

But even then, the fire between you still burned hot, and neither of you could quite bring yourself to let go of the pretense of animosity. Not yet.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The days were filled with a strange tension—one that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. The biting remarks between you and Hotch were still there, but they were laced with something different now, something that had the team raising their eyebrows and sharing knowing looks. The biting anger had started to twist into something that almost resembled…flirting.

One afternoon, you were both standing by the coffee machine, trying to get through another endless stack of case files. You reached for the last cup of coffee at the same time as Hotch, your hands brushing against each other. You snatched it up quickly, smirking in his direction.

"Careful, Hotchner," you said, raising the cup to your lips. "You keep getting in my way like this, and I might just have to pin you to the wall."

Hotch’s eyes glinted with amusement as he raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. "Bold move, Y/L/N," he replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Didn't realize you were in the habit of getting physical on the job."

Your breath caught for a second, but you quickly recovered, narrowing your eyes at him with a teasing smile. "Only when someone deserves it," you shot back, your voice light but your gaze steady. "And trust me, Hotchner, you've earned it."

He smirked, the kind of smile that made it clear he enjoyed pushing your buttons, and that little spark in his eyes hinted at something more than just professional rivalry. "I’ll try to contain my excitement," he said, voice smooth and challenging, the playful banter lingering in the air between you.

You opened your mouth to fire back a retort, but no words came out. Instead, you found yourself laughing—a real, genuine laugh that caught both of you off guard. The sound of it seemed to disarm Hotch for a moment, his expression softening as he looked at you.

"Just admit it," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "You’d miss our arguments if they stopped."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to think about it. "I’d miss putting you in your place, Hotch. But don’t get used to it—I’m still keeping score, and I’m winning."

Hotch let out a low chuckle. "We’ll see about that."

The team observed from a distance, exchanging amused glances at the way you two were sparring. But this time, it wasn't just hostility—it was something far more complicated, like the first sparks of a fire that neither of you wanted to put out.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The night had not gone the way you’d hoped. The date you’d forced yourself to go on—an attempt to prove to yourself that you could open up to someone, anyone—ended as all the others did: in disappointment. You’d spent the entire evening trying to connect, trying to be someone you weren’t, only to come home with that familiar ache in your chest and a little too much wine in your system.

Stumbling slightly, you sank onto a bench outside the bar, phone in hand, replaying Hotch's words in your mind from your previous argument. "You’re more isolated than anyone on this team, and the saddest part? You overcompensate by pretending you don’t care."

The truth of it stung more now than ever. You felt the weight of his words pressing down on you, and you didn't have the strength to fight against it. Maybe he was right, you thought bitterly. Maybe I am going to end up alone because I can't let anyone in.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers dialed his number, the alcohol-fueled haze making you braver—or more foolish—than you would have been otherwise. The phone rang once, and then you heard his familiar voice, steady and calm.

"Hotchner," he answered.

You hesitated, suddenly feeling ridiculous for calling him of all people. But then, you let out a shaky breath and said, "I...I don’t know why I called you. I’m fine. I’m—" Your voice cracked slightly, betraying you. "I'm not fine."

He didn’t ask you where you were. He didn’t hesitate or question why you’d reached out to him. Instead, his voice softened, and you could almost hear the worry in it. "Tell me where you are, Y/N," he said, his tone more gentle than you’d ever heard it. "I’m already on my way."

You told him the name of the bar, and before you knew it, Hotch’s car pulled up to the curb. He got out, looking every bit the composed leader he always was, but there was something else in his eyes—something softer as he took in your disheveled state.

Without a word, he draped his coat around your shoulders and led you to the passenger seat. The drive was quiet, the hum of the car the only sound between you. You kept your eyes on the window, embarrassed by your outburst but too drained to put your walls back up.

When he pulled up to your place, he helped you out of the car, his hand lingering at your back, a silent comfort. You let him guide you up the steps to your door, but when you fumbled for your keys, he stopped you, turning you to face him.

"You didn’t have to come get me," you said, your voice small, more vulnerable than you wanted it to be. "I’m just a mess tonight."

He looked at you, really looked at you, and for a moment, you saw the mask he always wore slip just a little. "You’re not a mess, Y/N," he said quietly. "You’re human. We all are."

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "You don't get it, Hotch. I keep trying to let people in, and I can't. It's like there's this wall I can't tear down, and I'm starting to think I’m going to end up just as alone as you said."

Hotch's jaw tightened, and he reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You’re not alone," he said, his voice low, almost tender. "And for what it's worth, I never meant to make you feel that way. You’re tougher than anyone I know, but you don’t always have to be."

You looked up at him, feeling the weight of his words settle in a place deep in your chest. For once, there was no sarcasm, no biting remarks—just a quiet honesty that took you by surprise.

"Why did you come?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper. "After everything I said to you?"

Hotch hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours, and then he said, "Because I know you. And I knew that when you finally let your guard down, even a little, it wasn’t something you’d do lightly." His voice softened even further. "I couldn’t just leave you alone tonight."

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words. He moved closer, his hand still resting on your shoulder, and you let yourself lean into his touch, even if just a little.

He just stood there with you, holding you steady when you couldn’t hold yourself up, letting you see that maybe, just maybe, letting him in wasn’t as terrifying as you’d thought.

"Thank you," you finally said, looking up at him with something that felt like gratitude mixed with a hint of something deeper, something you weren’t ready to name yet.

Hotch gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Anytime, Y/N," he said simply. "And for the record, I’m not going anywhere."

You nodded, the walls between you still there, but just a little lower now. And as you stepped into your apartment, you knew that this was the beginning of something different—something you weren’t ready to admit but couldn’t deny anymore.

The fire between you still burned, but it felt like a fire that could warm you instead of one that would consume you.

The door clicked shut behind you, the weight of the night’s events settling over you like a heavy blanket. Hotch stood in your entryway, his hands in his pockets, looking more out of place than you’d ever seen him. This was Aaron Hotchner, the unflinching leader of the BAU, but right now, he looked like a man unsure of what to do next.

You leaned back against the wall, running a hand through your hair and letting out a sigh. "I’m not usually like this," you said, your voice rough around the edges, still tinged with the effects of the alcohol. "I don’t usually call for help."

Hotch gave a small, almost reluctant smile, his eyes softening as they met yours. "I know," he said quietly. "You’d rather bite off your own arm than ask for help. That’s why I came."

You blinked at him, a bit taken aback by the way he said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The honesty in his eyes made something in your chest tighten—a mix of frustration and relief that you couldn’t quite put into words.

"You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?" you muttered, looking away to avoid the intensity of his gaze.

Hotch’s lips twitched into a smirk, that familiar fire sparking back to life in his eyes. "Well, you do have a habit of making it a challenge," he said, his voice taking on that dry, teasing tone. "But you’re not as complicated as you think, Y/N. I see right through that tough act of yours."

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest in a weak attempt to shield yourself from the truth of his words. "Oh, please, Hotchner," you said, trying to regain some of your usual bite. "The last thing I need is you trying to psychoanalyze me."

Hotch took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He was close enough now that you could see the concern etched in the lines of his face, the way he was holding back something he wanted to say. "You’re right," he said, his voice gentler now, almost a whisper. "I’m not here to analyze you. I’m here because I care."

Those last words hit you like a punch to the gut, the sincerity in his tone catching you completely off guard. You opened your mouth to say something, anything to deflect, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

"You care?" you repeated, a mixture of disbelief and sarcasm lacing your voice. "Is this the part where you tell me you’re my knight in shining armor?"

Hotch let out a small, rueful laugh, shaking his head slightly. "Hardly," he said, a hint of that familiar smirk creeping back. "More like the guy who has to keep you from making a fool of yourself because you’re too stubborn to admit you’re human."

You wanted to snap back, to put up the walls again, but you were too tired, too raw. Instead, you just looked at him, really looked at him, and saw something in his eyes that you hadn't allowed yourself to see before—genuine concern, warmth, something that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

"You know," you said, your voice quieter, softer than it had been all night. "You’re kind of infuriating."

Hotch’s smirk grew into a smile, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes in that rare, almost boyish way that you hardly ever saw. "And you’re impossible," he replied. "But we’ve established that already, haven’t we?"

For a moment, you both just stood there, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You should’ve felt awkward, but instead, there was a strange comfort in the silence, like you were both finally seeing each other without all the defenses in place.

You let out a deep breath and nodded toward the couch. "Stay," you said, surprising even yourself. "Just for a while. I could use the company."

He didn’t argue. Hotch gave a small nod and moved to sit on the couch, his movements careful, deliberate, as if he didn’t want to push too hard, too fast. You sat down beside him, not too close but not as far as you might have a few weeks ago.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, your head leaning back against the couch, your eyes closing as you tried to process everything. You felt Hotch’s presence beside you, solid and grounding, the quiet rhythm of his breathing strangely soothing.

"Thank you," you finally said, breaking the silence, the words almost too quiet to hear. "For coming to get me. For…not letting me be alone tonight."

Hotch turned to look at you, and when you opened your eyes, his gaze was softer than you’d ever seen it. "Anytime," he said simply. "And I mean that, Y/N. You don’t have to go through everything on your own."

You felt something crack open inside you, just a little—a small space where the walls had been, making room for him in a way you never thought you’d allow. And maybe, just maybe, that terrified you even more than anything else.

As you both sat there in the quiet, the tension between you still simmering but somehow warmer now, you realized that for all your fights, your arguments, and your stubborn pride, you didn’t hate him. Not even close.

You didn’t say anything more that night. You didn’t have to. The silence said enough, and for once, neither of you felt the need to fill it with words.

The fire between you had shifted, turning into something new, something unspoken but undeniably there. You didn’t feel quite so alone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The next morning, the BAU office buzzed with its usual energy, but everything felt different. The night before lingered in the back of your mind like a half-remembered dream, and you couldn’t quite shake the image of Hotch sitting beside you on the couch, his quiet presence more comforting than you’d ever expected.

You walked into the bullpen, forcing yourself to adopt the mask of professionalism you always wore, your steps just a touch more deliberate to hide any trace of a hangover or vulnerability. You were determined to pretend like nothing had changed, like the night before was just a glitch in your well-oiled machine of stubborn denial.

But as soon as you stepped into the room, you felt Hotch’s eyes on you. He was at his desk, his expression calm and controlled, but there was something different in the way he looked at you—softer, more attentive, like he was seeing you in a way he hadn’t before.

You met his gaze, and for a second, the rest of the office seemed to fade away. His eyes held yours, and you could feel that unspoken connection between you, the memory of his steadying hand on your back, his whispered words in the dark.

But then you broke the gaze, clearing your throat and throwing up your usual walls. "Morning, Hotchner," you said briskly, moving past his desk like it was business as usual. "Let’s hope you’re ready to keep up today. Wouldn’t want to have to drag you along."

Hotch’s lips twitched into that familiar half-smirk, but there was something in his eyes that wasn’t there before—something almost like pride. "Careful, Y/L/N," he said in that smooth, controlled voice of his. "If you’re not careful, people might start to think you’re actually enjoying this partnership."

You opened your mouth to fire back a retort, but JJ and Morgan chose that moment to walk in, their eyes darting curiously between the two of you. You could see the knowing smiles tugging at their lips, and you knew they’d sensed the shift in the air.

"Everything okay over here?" Morgan asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. "I thought I saw sparks flying for a second there."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest to regain some semblance of your defenses. "Please, Morgan," you said, a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "If I wanted sparks, I’d go rub two sticks together in the woods."

"Uh-huh," JJ said with a grin, not missing the way Hotch’s eyes followed you, a little softer than they usually were. "Well, you two seem to have your own language these days. Should we be worried?"

Hotch straightened in his chair, his expression slipping back into that stoic professionalism, but you caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I think you have more important things to worry about," he said evenly, glancing at the case files on the table. "Like solving this case."

Morgan shot you a sideways glance, his grin widening. "Man, they really do bicker like an old married couple," he said under his breath to JJ, loud enough for you and Hotch to hear.

You rolled your eyes dramatically, but you couldn’t quite hide the smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Keep dreaming, Morgan," you said, flicking your gaze to Hotch for a split second before turning back to the files. "If I ever settle down, it’ll be with someone who actually listens."

You didn’t miss the way Hotch’s eyebrow twitched at that comment, the slightest hint of a challenge in his eyes. He gave you a look that said he was holding back something—something that both of you were too stubborn to acknowledge.

"Who said anything about settling down?" Hotch replied, voice smooth as ever. "I thought you were the kind of person who lives for the argument."

"And I thought you were the kind of person who likes to be right," you shot back, smirking. "Guess we’ve both been wrong about each other."

There it was—the unspoken truth lying between you both, hidden beneath the layers of sarcasm and banter. You could feel the shift, the way your arguments had started to feel less like battles and more like dances, each of you knowing the other’s moves before they even made them.

As the day wore on, you found yourself glancing at Hotch more often than you cared to admit, catching him looking at you with that same intense focus that he usually reserved for unsubs. The problem was, this time, you weren’t sure whether he was profiling you or trying to figure out how to get past your defenses.

Later in the day, as you grabbed another cup of coffee, you felt his presence next to you before he even said a word. He reached for a file on the counter, leaning in slightly closer than necessary, and murmured just loud enough for you to hear, "I meant what I said last night, you know."

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Which part?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Hotch's gaze held yours, unflinching, unwavering. "The part about not going anywhere," he said softly. "And the part about you not having to be alone. Not if you don’t want to be."

You swallowed hard, the words sticking in your throat. You knew what he was offering—a chance to let him in, to take that next step, whatever that might be. And it terrified you more than you’d ever admit.

"That’s a dangerous game, Hotchner," you said, trying to deflect with a smirk, even though your heart was pounding in your chest.

Hotch gave you that slow, almost maddening smile that seemed to unravel something deep within you. What you couldn’t see—what he hid beneath that calm exterior—was the way his mind was still racing with everything that had happened the night before. The way you'd let your guard down, even for just a moment, had left him more shaken than he wanted to admit.

He wasn’t a man who let people in easily; it took a lot for his interest to be piqued, to feel something more than detached professionalism. But you—you had managed to get under his skin. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that glimpse into your world, the vulnerability you showed him when you thought no one else was watching. It was raw, real, and it stirred something in him that he didn’t want to let go of.

He was intrigued by you in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, and now that he’d seen that side of you—the part you kept hidden from everyone else—he didn’t want you to close that door again. He wanted more than just the sharp banter and the fiery arguments. He wanted to see the layers beneath, to understand the person you were when the armor came off.

There was this part of him that saw you as this rare enigma, but also a part that saw a mirror looking back at him--someone who finally carried their world in the same way as he did.

"You’ve never been one to play it safe, Y/N," he replied, his voice low and warm, the hint of a challenge still lingering. "Why start now?"

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something almost like hope mixed with determination. He was giving you a choice, but deep down, he knew he didn’t want you to pull away, to retreat back into the walls you’d built so carefully around yourself.

You didn’t have an answer for that. At least, not one you were ready to give him. The truth was, the idea of letting him in—of letting anyone in—scared you more than you wanted to admit. But his steady gaze, the way he was looking at you as if he was ready to hold that door open as long as it took for you to walk through it, made it harder to hide.

So instead, you just nodded, your walls still there but not quite as high as they’d been before. "We’ll see," you said softly, more to yourself than to him. "We’ll see."

And as you turned away, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his eyes still on you, watching, waiting. Hotch knew that if you closed yourself off now, it would be ten times harder to find his way back in. But he also knew he couldn’t push you—not yet. All he could do was make sure that when you were ready to open that door again, he’d be right there, waiting for you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few days passed since that quiet moment at the coffee machine, and while you tried to push it to the back of your mind, it kept creeping up on you. Hotch’s words, the look in his eyes—it all felt too real, too close, and you weren’t ready to let it unravel everything you’d built around yourself.

The trouble was, Hotch wasn’t making it any easier.

He was still his usual composed, authoritative self during briefings, but every now and then, you’d catch him watching you out of the corner of his eye, as if trying to figure out what was going on beneath your surface. It was disarming, the way he seemed to see straight through you, and it annoyed you to no end that you cared what he thought.

Today was no different. The team was deep into a new case, the type that pulled everyone’s focus with its twists and turns, but you still felt that nagging awareness of Hotch’s gaze tracking your every move. You tried to shake it off, to focus solely on the details of the profile you were presenting, but when your eyes met his, you hesitated for a fraction of a second—a slip that didn’t go unnoticed.

As you finished laying out your theory on the unsub, you expected Hotch to challenge you like he always did. Instead, he gave a small nod, his eyes never leaving yours. "Solid work, Y/L/N," he said, his voice steady, but there was a trace of something else in it—something that felt like he was acknowledging more than just your profiling skills.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at the rare praise coming from Hotch. "Wow, did I just hear that right?" he teased. "Hotch giving a compliment? Are we sure we’re not in an alternate universe?"

You rolled your eyes, fighting to keep the blush creeping up your neck from reaching your face. "Don’t get used to it," you shot back, forcing a smirk. "I’m sure he’ll find something to disagree with in about five minutes."

But when you glanced back at Hotch, you caught the smallest hint of a smile pulling at his lips, like he was amused by your deflection. It was such a fleeting moment that if you hadn’t been watching him closely, you might have missed it. But it was there, and it sent a ripple through you that you couldn’t quite shake.

Later that evening, as the rest of the team wrapped up for the day, you found yourself alone in the conference room, staring at the evidence board. The case was getting under your skin in a way that you couldn’t quite explain, and you were too restless to go home.

"Working late?" Hotch’s voice broke through the silence, and you turned to find him leaning casually in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He looked at you with that same unreadable expression, and you hated how your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

"Just tying up loose ends," you said, your tone clipped, but even you could hear the exhaustion in your voice. "Can’t leave things half-finished."

He nodded slowly, stepping further into the room, his gaze never leaving you. "You’ve been distracted," he said, not as a question, but as a statement of fact. "Is it the case, or something else?"

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "Always profiling, aren’t you?" you said, turning back to the board to avoid looking at him. "Maybe it’s both. Or maybe I’m just tired of being stuck in my own head."

Hotch moved closer, close enough that you could feel his presence like a tangible weight in the room. "You know, you don’t always have to carry everything alone," he said quietly. "You’re allowed to let someone in."

You turned to him then, your eyes locking onto his, the vulnerability of that night flashing in your mind. "I thought you knew me better than that, Hotchner," you said, your voice laced with a mix of defiance and something softer. "I’m not good at letting people in."

Hotch held your gaze, and this time, he didn’t look away. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I also know that when you finally do, you don’t want to regret it."

The words hung between you like a dare, and for a second, you saw past the stoic exterior he always wore, straight into the man who’d been just as guarded, just as wary of letting anyone see the cracks beneath his armor. It was unnerving and comforting all at once.

"I don’t want to close that door again," he admitted, his voice steady but his eyes revealing a flicker of uncertainty, as if saying it out loud made him vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been before. "You let me in, Y/N, even if it was just for a moment. And I don’t want to lose that."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words died in your throat. You could feel your defenses crumbling, piece by piece, under the weight of his gaze, and it scared you. But it also made you feel something else—something you weren’t ready to put a name to.

"I don’t know what you expect from me," you said finally, your voice softer, almost hesitant. "You know I’m not the kind of person who’s good at this… at letting someone get close."

Hotch’s lips curved into that maddening, gentle smile, and he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. It was a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of warmth through you. "I’m not expecting anything," he said, his voice calm, reassuring. "I just don’t want you to shut me out when you don’t have to."

For once, you didn’t have a quick retort, no sarcastic comeback to throw up as a shield. Instead, you found yourself nodding, the smallest sign of surrender, as if silently agreeing to let this—whatever it was between you—take its own course.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Hotch said softly, his hand lingering on your arm for just a moment longer before he turned to leave.

"Goodnight, Hotch," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper as you watched him walk away.

As he disappeared through the doorway, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The fire between you wasn’t just simmering anymore—it was building into something that felt inevitable, something that terrified and thrilled you all at once.

You didn’t feel the urge to run away from it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It had been a long week for the team, the kind that left everyone mentally and physically exhausted. The case had taken a toll on each of them, but none more so than Hotch. You could see it in the way his shoulders sagged slightly when he thought no one was looking, in the tightness around his eyes that no amount of professionalism could hide.

He’d been quieter than usual, more distant, even with you. It was a stark contrast to the way he’d been drawing closer lately, as if he’d built up his walls all over again. And for some reason, that made something inside you ache.

You found him alone in his office late that evening, the light dim, a half-empty cup of coffee growing cold on his desk. The tension in his posture was palpable, and he didn’t look up when you knocked lightly on the doorframe.

"Hotch," you said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "You look like you’re about to tear that case file in half. What’s going on?"

He didn’t answer at first. He just kept staring at the paper in front of him, his jaw clenched tight, the muscle ticking in his cheek. For a moment, you thought he might brush you off, that he’d snap back into his guarded self and shut you out completely.

But then he let out a slow, shaky breath and finally looked up at you. There was a weariness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, something raw and unguarded. "It’s Jack," he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I missed his soccer game today. I promised I’d be there, and I missed it."

You blinked, surprised by the admission. It wasn’t like Hotch to let his personal life bleed into the job. He was the master of compartmentalization, always keeping his professional mask firmly in place. But right now, that mask was slipping, and you could see the guilt and pain beneath.

"I’m sorry," you said, the words genuine and uncharacteristically soft. "I know how much he means to you."

He gave a short, humorless laugh, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to scrub away the exhaustion. "It’s not just that," he said, finally meeting your gaze. "I try so hard to be there for him, to make up for all the time I can’t get back. And every time I fail, it feels like I’m failing him all over again."

You took a hesitant step closer, your defenses lowering in response to his vulnerability. "You’re not failing him, Hotch," you said, your voice firmer now. "Jack knows you’re doing everything you can. You’re a damn good father, even if you don’t give yourself enough credit."

Hotch’s eyes softened as he looked at you like he was seeing something in you that he hadn’t allowed himself to see before. "It’s just hard," he said quietly. "Balancing everything. Being there for him and still being the kind of leader this team needs. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m doing either one right."

You took another step closer, your hand hovering near his on the desk. "You don’t have to be perfect, Aaron," you said, using his first name intentionally, letting it roll off your tongue like a promise. "You’re allowed to be human. To mess up. To let people help you when you need it."

His breath hitched slightly when you said his name, and you saw the way his defenses cracked just a little more, like he was allowing himself to believe you, even if just for a moment. "You say that," he said, a small, wry smile forming on his lips. "But you’re not exactly the poster child for letting people in either."

You felt a reluctant smile tug at your lips, even as your heart pounded in your chest. "Touché," you said, your voice gentler now. "But maybe we could both stand to learn a little."

Hotch stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to decide whether he could really let you see him—really let you in. And then, almost imperceptibly, he reached out, his hand covering yours where it rested on the desk.

"You know," he said, his voice low and rough, "it’s easier for me to tell you not to close yourself off than it is to follow my own advice."

You looked down at his hand on yours, feeling the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, and you squeezed his fingers lightly. "Yeah, well," you said, your voice soft but steady, "lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere either."

His eyes softened even more at your words, a quiet gratitude filling them that made your chest tighten. He was letting you see him—not the stoic leader, not the unflinching profiler, but the man beneath all that. The one who was just as scared of opening up, just as afraid of failing the people he loved.

"Thank you," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "For this. For not letting me push you away."

You offered him a small smile, one that felt more real than anything you’d given him before. "Don’t thank me yet," you said, a teasing glint in your eyes. "I’m still going to make your life hell in the field."

Hotch let out a soft chuckle, the sound breaking the tension in the room like a breath of fresh air. "I’d expect nothing less," he said, the warmth returning to his gaze. "In fact, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t."

The two of you stood there, hands still linked, the silence stretching out but not uncomfortable anymore. It was filled with a promise, an unspoken understanding that things had changed between you—that neither of you was quite as alone as you used to be.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The bullpen was buzzing with the usual chatter as the team wrapped up another case. The mood was lighter than it had been in days, and everyone seemed relieved to have a few moments to breathe. You stood at your desk, reviewing some final notes when you felt that familiar presence beside you.

"Y/L/N," Hotch said in his even tone, but there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes that only you could see. "I noticed a couple of discrepancies in your report. Care to explain?"

You raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as you turned to face him. "Oh, Hotchner, I didn’t realize you were that nitpicky," you said, leaning in just a fraction. "I thought you were more of a big-picture kind of guy."

Hotch’s lips curved into that maddening smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Details matter," he replied, his voice dropping a notch. "And if I didn’t keep you on your toes, where’s the fun in that?"

The rest of the team was watching this exchange with poorly concealed amusement. Morgan exchanged a look with JJ, and Garcia's eyes were practically sparkling with glee.

"You two are at it again," Morgan said, shaking his head with a grin. "I swear, the tension between you two is so thick we could cut it with a knife."

"More like set it on fire," JJ added, nudging Garcia, who was already leaning forward, her mouth wide with anticipation.

"Oh, please," you said with a mock roll of your eyes, but your smirk was undeniable. "If Hotchner could actually manage to light a fire, he’d probably try to put it out just to avoid making a mess."

Hotch’s eyebrow shot up at that, and he took a small step closer to you, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for everyone to hear. "I don’t know, Y/N," he said, his eyes locking onto yours with a challenging glint. "I think you’d be surprised at how good I am at playing with fire."

The room went silent for a beat, the rest of the team exchanging looks that screamed oh my God, did he just say that?

Garcia’s jaw dropped dramatically. "Okay, that’s it!" she exclaimed, pointing between you and Hotch. "There is no way you two don’t have some unresolved sexual tension going on here. Spill the beans!"

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say anything, an alarm went off on the conference room monitor. Garcia’s eyes widened as she quickly typed on her laptop. "We’ve got an urgent update from the field team," she said, all traces of her previous amusement gone. "It looks like the suspect we apprehended escaped during transfer."

Hotch’s face shifted instantly into his no-nonsense mode, all traces of flirtation gone as he snapped back into action. "Everyone, gather your gear," he ordered. "We’re heading out now."

As you all hurried to grab your things, you felt Hotch’s hand on your arm, his grip just a bit tighter than usual. "Stay close," he said, his voice low and serious. "I don’t want any surprises."

You nodded, but there was a fire in his eyes that hadn’t been there before—a look that sent a thrill through you despite the situation. You didn’t have time to dwell on it as you jumped into the SUV, your focus shifting to the task at hand.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The stand-off had gone sideways fast. The unsub, cornered and desperate, made a reckless move, and in the chaos that followed, Hotch took a hit—a deep gash to his arm from a knife as he shielded you from the unsub. He stayed in control, his face a mask of determination as he secured the suspect, but you could see the pain etched in the tight lines around his mouth.

"Hotch!" you shouted, rushing to his side the second the threat was neutralized. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay focused, your eyes darting over the wound. "You couldn’t just dodge or take a step back like a normal person?"

He gave you a half-smile that somehow still had that infuriating charm. "I had to make sure you had a clear shot," he said, his voice calm despite the blood seeping through his sleeve. "Besides, if I’d let you take the hit, you’d never let me live it down."

"Yeah, well, now you’re stuck listening to me complain about your lack of self-preservation," you muttered, shaking your head even as you helped him over to the waiting ambulance.

The paramedics wasted no time guiding Hotch into the back of the ambulance, their hands moving efficiently as they assessed the wound. You followed closely, trying to keep your expression neutral, but the sight of blood seeping through his sleeve made your stomach twist with worry you couldn’t quite hide.

"How bad is it?" you asked the nearest paramedic, doing your best to sound calm even though your insides were in knots.

"Deep cut," the paramedic said as he worked quickly to clean and bandage Hotch’s arm. "He’ll need stitches but no major damage. He got lucky."

Hotch’s eyes flicked up to yours, a small smirk forming on his lips despite the pain. "Lucky, huh?" he said, his voice slightly strained but still holding that familiar edge of sarcasm. "Looks like I’m harder to get rid of than you thought."

You let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, and for a moment, your guard slipped completely. The rush of adrenaline from the standoff was fading, leaving nothing but raw fear and relief in its wake. Without thinking, you reached out and gave his good shoulder a light but frustrated punch.

"You reckless idiot," you muttered, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to hold it steady. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? You scared the hell out of me, Hotch."

The words came out harsher than you intended, your emotions bubbling to the surface faster than you could control them. Hotch’s smirk softened into something gentler, more genuine, and he looked at you like he was seeing right through your bravado to the fear and vulnerability beneath.

"Y/N," he said quietly, his tone different now—gentler, sincere. "I didn’t mean to worry you."

But before he could say anything more, you felt your chest tighten, overwhelmed by how close you’d come to losing him. Hotch reached out slowly, his uninjured hand wrapping around yours, holding on in a way that felt both grounding and intimate. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, and you didn’t pull away.

Hotch hesitated, then reached out to gently touch your hand, his voice almost a whisper, "I’m right here, even if you don’t know what to do with that."

You blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill, and you squeezed his hand harder than you meant to.

"You infuriating man," you said, your voice trembling as you tried to hold onto the last shred of your composure. "You just had to go and make me care, didn’t you?"

The laugh that escaped Hotch was soft, almost disbelieving, and his eyes were filled with something you’d never seen before—something that made your chest tighten and your defenses crumble even more.

"I’m glad you care," he said, so quietly that it was almost lost in the noise around you. "More than you know."

Your breath hitched at his words, and you bit your lip to keep the tears at bay. Desperate to deflect, you let go of his hand and turned away, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"You had to make me feel something, didn’t you?" you said, throwing him a wry smile over your shoulder as you blinked back the tears that refused to fall. "Next time, try not to make a mess of it, okay?"

Hotch's eyes softened as he looked at you, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips despite the pain. "No promises," he said, a warmth in his gaze that wrapped around you like a lifeline. "But I'll try not to scare you again."

You nodded, biting your lip to keep your composure, and then without another word, you turned and walked away, each step heavier than the last. You needed to get some distance before you completely fell apart in front of him.

But as you reached the end of the ambulance, you heard his voice, softer and closer than you expected. "Y/N," he called out, making you pause. "You know I’m not going anywhere, right?"

You didn’t turn back, but you felt the faintest smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "You’d better not," you said, voice just loud enough for him to hear. "You’ve got a lot to make up for."

And as you walked away, you realized that letting him in didn’t feel like a mistake—it felt like the only choice that made sense.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Hours later, after a tense and exhausting standoff, the team finally returned to the BAU headquarters. Everyone was drained, their nerves frayed from the adrenaline crash, but there was a palpable sense of relief in the air—the suspect had been recaptured, and despite the close call, no one was seriously hurt.

But you couldn’t shake the image of Hotch sitting in the back of that ambulance, blood staining his sleeve, his eyes meeting yours with that maddening calmness he always managed to keep. The memory made your chest feel tight, like something was lodged there that you couldn’t swallow down.

You headed to the quiet of the briefing room, too wired to sit still. You started pacing, the adrenaline from the night's chaos still buzzing through your veins. All you could think about was how close you’d come to losing him and how much that realization had rattled you more than you wanted to admit.

Just as you were about to let out a frustrated sigh, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you found Hotch standing in the doorway. His usually neat tie was loosened, and his composed demeanor seemed a little frayed around the edges.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice softer than usual, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver straight down your spine.

"Yeah," you said, but your voice wavered, betraying the emotions that had been building all night. "Just trying to come down from the rush, you know?"

Hotch stepped closer, the space between you shrinking, the room suddenly feeling too small to contain everything unspoken between you. His injured arm was bandaged, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He was looking at you like you were the only thing in the room.

"You handled yourself well out there," he said, his voice steady but tinged with something else—something like pride, mixed with relief and maybe even a touch of vulnerability. "You always do."

You gave a shaky smile, but you couldn’t help the words that slipped out next. "You didn’t have to get hurt for me to prove it, you know," you said, your voice cracking just a little. "What were you thinking out there?"

Hotch's lips twitched into a faint smile. "I was thinking," he said, meeting your eyes with that steady, unwavering gaze, "that if it came down to protecting you or getting a scratch, I’d take the scratch every time."

You let out a breath, something between a laugh and a scoff, your defenses slipping in a way that was becoming too familiar. "You’re impossible," you muttered, shaking your head. "Always playing the hero, aren’t you?"

"Only when it matters," he said softly, taking another step closer. His voice dropped to a whisper, the kind that sent a rush of warmth straight through you. "You’re important to this team—to me."

The air between you was crackling with the kind of tension that had been building for weeks, maybe even months. It was as if all the arguments, the banter, the fire had been leading up to this moment, and you both knew it.

"Hotch," you said, barely more than a whisper, taking a step closer to him. "What are we doing here?"

He took a deep breath, and you watched as his gaze flicked down to your lips for the briefest of moments before returning to meet your eyes. There was a crack in his usual stoic demeanor, the tiniest flicker of vulnerability shining through, like he was finally letting you see the part of him he always kept hidden from the world.

For once, Aaron Hotchner didn’t look like the unshakeable leader of the BAU—he looked like a man on the edge, torn between staying in control and letting his guard drop completely.

"I don’t know," he admitted, his voice rough, tinged with a hint of something you’d never heard from him before—fear, maybe, or hope. "I’ve spent a long time pretending this wasn’t happening... I don’t think I can anymore."

He took another step closer, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes, like he was terrified of making a move that couldn’t be undone.

His voice softened, almost to a whisper, as he added, "I’ve been trying to ignore this," he admitted softly, his eyes never leaving yours, "but it’s not that simple anymore."

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, knocking the air right out of your lungs. You’d always known he was guarded, that he kept his distance as a way to protect himself, but hearing him say it out loud, seeing the raw vulnerability in his eyes—it shook you to your core.

For a heartbeat, you stood there, your emotions tangled, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. The weight of his words, the confession in his voice, crashed over you like a wave, breaking down every last wall you’d built between you.

"I don’t know how to do this either," you said, your own voice barely holding together, a touch of desperation leaking into your words. "I’m so used to keeping people out, and then you come along and—" You shook your head, letting out a shaky breath. "You scare me, Hotch. This scares me."

His gaze softened even further, his thumb grazing over your knuckles as he reached for your hand, holding it like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You don’t have to be scared," he said, his voice so gentle it almost broke you. "Not with me."

The tenderness in his touch, the way his eyes held yours with so much quiet intensity, like you were the only person who existed in that moment—it was more than you could take. And then, with a boldness you didn’t know you had, you reached up, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him into a kiss that was anything but gentle—fierce, desperate, a release of all the frustration and desire you’d been bottling up for so long.

The moment your lips met, it was like the world stopped turning. The kiss was electric, searing, filled with all the unspoken words and pent-up tension that had been building between you. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a collision—a clash of everything you’d both held back, all the things you were too afraid to say out loud.

Hotch responded instantly, his good hand sliding to the small of your back, pulling you against him as if he was afraid you’d slip away. His kiss was just as intense as yours, almost rough, like he was staking a claim, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as long as you had. His fingers tangled in your hair, his breath mingling with yours, and he kissed you like he was pouring everything he had into it—all the fear, all the hope, all the need he’d been trying so hard to hide.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, you saw that the mask had shattered completely. The intensity in his eyes was unlike anything you’d seen before—raw, open, unguarded. Finally, you saw Aaron Hotchner not as your stoic boss or your sparring partner but as the man who had somehow slipped past every defense you’d ever built.

"You," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and relief, "You make everything so damn complicated."

Hotch’s lips curled into a slow, almost wicked smile, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he held you close. "And you wouldn’t have it any other way," he said, his voice low, roughened with emotion.

"Maybe not," you said, a shaky laugh escaping despite the tears welling in your eyes. "But damn you, Hotch…you’re going to ruin me."

He brushed his lips against your forehead, soft and lingering, his breath warm on your skin. "Only if you let me," he whispered a promise in his voice that made your chest tighten almost painfully. "And I really hope you let me."

At this moment, you realized that maybe letting your guard down wasn’t a sign of weakness; maybe it was the bravest thing you’d ever done. And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to be brave with him.

Just as the charged silence wrapped around you both, the door to the briefing room swung open. You and Hotch sprang apart, a little too quickly, both of you turning to see Derek Morgan standing there with an expression that was equal parts surprise and amusement.

Morgan's eyes flicked between you and Hotch, taking in the slightly disheveled look on both of your faces. A grin spread slowly across his face, and he raised an eyebrow in mock innocence. "Whoa," he said, holding up his hands as if surrendering. "Did I just walk in on something, or is this one of those 'don't ask, don't tell' situations?"

You felt your cheeks heat up instantly, your mind scrambling for a response. But before you could even open your mouth, Hotch, ever composed and unreadable, turned to Morgan with the kind of calm authority that only he could pull off.

"We're just wrapping up, Morgan," Hotch said, his voice steady, but there was the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth—one that only you seemed to notice. He kept his gaze locked on Morgan, his posture relaxed yet still protective, as though daring anyone to comment further.

Morgan's grin widened, but he knew better than to push his boss too far. He gave you both a knowing nod, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, alright," he said, backing out of the doorway with his hands still raised. "I’ll let you two get back to 'wrapping things up.' Just remember, Hotch, the team’s got eyes everywhere."

As soon as Morgan disappeared, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, a half-laugh escaping your lips. You turned back to Hotch, who met your gaze with a look that was a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement.

"Well," you said, shaking your head with a smile, "that went better than expected."

Hotch's lips twitched into a wry smile, the hint of a challenge in his eyes. "You realize this isn’t going to go unnoticed by the rest of the team," he said, his tone a little softer now, almost conspiratorial.

"Oh, I know," you replied, your smile turning playful. "But I’m not planning on making it easy for them."

Hotch’s gaze held yours for a moment longer, something unspoken passing between you—an agreement, a promise, that whatever came next, you’d face it together. And with that, the tension in the room shifted once more, the unspoken understanding between you deepening into something neither of you could—or wanted to—deny.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The rest of the night passed in a blur of paperwork, debriefings, and quiet conversations as the team began to wind down after the exhausting case. But no matter how much you tried to focus, your mind kept drifting back to what had happened with Hotch in the briefing room—the way his touch had lingered on your waist, the heat in his eyes, and the quiet promise of something more.

You couldn't shake it. Every glance in his direction sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, a reminder of the kiss, of the way his lips had moved against yours, demanding and tender all at once. The tension between you hadn’t just simmered—it was boiling over, and the thought of leaving it unresolved made your heart race.

As the rest of the team filtered out, leaving the office empty and quiet, you found yourself lingering by your desk, unable to shake the feeling that tonight wasn’t over yet. And then, as if on cue, you felt him before you even saw him—Hotch’s presence filling the room, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he approached.

When you looked up, your breath hitched at the sight of him. His tie was still loosened, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the bandage on his arm from earlier. There was a slight shadow of exhaustion around his eyes, but it did nothing to dampen the intensity of his gaze.

He didn’t say a word as he reached your desk, his eyes never leaving yours, and suddenly the air between you was thick with everything that had been left unsaid.

"You’re still here," he finally said, his voice low and rough, laced with something that made your skin tingle.

"So are you," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way he was looking at you made it nearly impossible. You swallowed, the tension between you two practically vibrating. "We need to finish this, don’t we?"

Hotch didn’t hesitate. His lips quirked into the faintest smile as he nodded, the movement slow and deliberate. "I think we do," he said, his voice dropping an octave. His gaze flicked to your lips for just a moment before meeting your eyes again, and you could see the unspoken question in them—are you ready for this?

You were.

He stood close, closer than he ever had before, his fingers brushing the back of your hand in a touch that seemed to linger just a little too long. He didn’t say anything, but the way his gaze dropped to your lips and then flicked back to your eyes spoke volumes. It was a silent question, one he wasn’t quite ready to put into words.

Without thinking, you leaned in, a slow, tentative movement that felt like testing the waters. His breath hitched, and just as your lips barely brushed his, he hesitated—only for a second—before closing the distance, his kiss soft and controlled, as though he was savoring a secret he’d kept locked away for too long.

Hotch responded instantly, his good arm snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against him, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that made your head spin. His kiss was demanding, fierce like he was making up for every moment of restraint, every fight, every time he’d held back. His hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you to him, deepening the kiss as his tongue grazed your lower lip.

You let out a soft gasp, and he took the opportunity to take control, his tongue slipping past your lips in a way that sent a jolt of heat straight through you. You pressed against him harder, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, desperate to get closer, to feel every inch of him.

He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through your chest, and it was like something inside you snapped. You reached up, running your fingers through his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him pull back, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps.

"Careful," he warned, his voice rough and low, his eyes dark with a mixture of desire and control. "You’re playing with fire."

You smirked, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "I thought you liked that."

His grip on your waist tightened, and before you could tease him again, he spun you around, pressing your back against the nearest wall with a swift, fluid movement that left you breathless. His body pinned you there, his chest rising and falling heavily as he stared down at you with an intensity that made your knees weak.

"I do," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as his hand slid beneath your shirt, his fingers skimming over your skin in a way that made your pulse race. "But I don’t think you know just how far I’m willing to go."

You shivered under his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers grazed the curve of your waist, his lips tracing a hot path down the side of your neck. "Then show me," you whispered, barely able to form the words as the heat between you both threatened to overwhelm you.

Hotch’s lips curled into a wicked smile against your skin, and without another word, he kissed you again—harder this time, more demanding, more possessive. His hands explored your body with a hunger that matched your own, sliding beneath the fabric of your shirt, tracing every curve, every dip, until you were arching against him, desperate for more.

You tugged at his shirt, fingers fumbling to unbutton it as you kissed him back with just as much intensity, your heart pounding in your chest as the desire between you grew hotter, more insistent.

"Y/N," he groaned, his breath hot against your lips as you finally managed to push his shirt off his shoulders, your hands exploring the hard lines of his chest, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers. "God, you’re going to drive me crazy."

You smiled against his mouth, tugging him closer. "Good," you breathed, your voice a mix of teasing and need. "I’ve been waiting for this."

He let out a low, rumbling laugh, his hands sliding down your body until they were gripping your hips, holding you tight against him as he kissed you again, harder, deeper. It felt like you were both caught in a storm, a whirlwind of desire that neither of you could control, and you didn’t want to.

You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, how many times you lost yourself in the feel of his lips on yours, the heat of his body against yours. All you knew was that it wasn’t enough—it would never be enough.

When Hotch finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your bodies pressed so close together you could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest. He stared down at you, his eyes dark and full of desire, but there was something else there too—something deeper, something that went beyond the heat of the moment.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to catch his breath.

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "I think I do," you whispered, your voice soft, full of affection and heat.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the intensity of what had just happened settling between you like a silent promise. But the fire was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to burn even hotter.

The air in the bullpen was electric, the tension between you and Hotch almost crackling as you both stood there, chests heaving, lips swollen from the kiss you’d just shared. The reality of where you were hit you like a bucket of cold water, and you glanced around, grateful that the rest of the team had already gone home.

"Hotch," you said, voice still breathless, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips as you took in the sight of him—tie askew, shirt half-unbuttoned, looking thoroughly disheveled in a way you’d never seen before. "As much as I’d love to continue this… display, I’m pretty sure the FBI frowns upon public displays of—well, whatever this is."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest, his hand still resting on your waist, like he wasn’t quite ready to let you go. "You make a good point," he said, his lips quirking up into that maddening smirk that drove you insane. "Wouldn’t want to scandalize the rest of the team more than we already have."

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing look. "Oh, I don’t know," you said, a sly smile spreading across your face. "I think Morgan’s probably got a running commentary ready for the next team meeting. Maybe we should give him more material."

Hotch’s smirk widened, a flash of mischief sparking in his eyes. "You really are trouble, aren’t you?" he murmured, his fingers trailing lightly up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "I knew it the moment you walked into the BAU."

"You sure that’s what you thought?" you shot back, your voice laced with challenge. "Because I’m pretty sure the first thing you said to me was how I needed to 'fall in line' if I wanted to survive on this team."

Hotch let out a short laugh, the kind that sounded like he was finally letting himself enjoy this. "And you’ve been driving me crazy ever since," he said, his voice softer, almost reverent, as his thumb brushed across your cheek. "In the best possible way."

You felt your cheeks flush, but you couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face, the one you couldn’t hide anymore. "You know," you said, tilting your head slightly, your tone shifting back to playful, "for a man who claims to be the master of control, you really have a habit of losing it around me."

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning almost predatory as he leaned in, his lips brushing just shy of your ear. "Oh, I haven't lost control yet," he whispered, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent a shiver straight down your spine. "But keep pushing, and I might just have to show you what that really looks like."

Your breath hitched, and you had to fight the urge to pull him back into another kiss right then and there. Instead, you pressed your hand against his chest, pushing him back just slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "Promises, promises, Hotchner," you said with a wink. "But you’re right—we should probably get out of here before this turns into an official FBI incident."

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly, but the fire in his eyes never dimmed. "My place or yours?" he asked, the question laced with a hint of playfulness that made your heart skip a beat.

You pretended to think about it for a moment, your lips quirking up into a sly grin. "Yours," you said decisively. "Wouldn’t want you thinking I’m too comfortable letting you into my world just yet. Gotta keep you on your toes."

Hotch’s eyes sparkled with amusement, his smirk widening into a full grin. "Ah, so we’re back to this, are we?" he said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe how much he was enjoying this. "Fine. But don’t think this means I’m going to let you win our next argument."

You laughed, the sound coming out light and genuine, surprising even yourself. "Hotch," you said, leaning in close enough that your lips almost brushed his, "you never had a chance of winning. I’ve been three steps ahead of you since day one."

His expression softened, his eyes locking onto yours with that intensity that always made you feel like he was seeing right through you. "And that’s exactly why I’m not letting you out of my sight," he said, his voice rough with honesty. "You’ve already got me hooked."

Your teasing smile faltered for a heartbeat at the sincerity in his voice, and you felt the air between you shift—deepening into something more than just banter, more than the physical pull you couldn’t resist. You reached up, cupping his jaw in your hand, and for a moment, you let yourself just look at him—this man who’d somehow become everything you never knew you needed.

"You coming or what, Hotchner?" you finally said, pulling back just enough to flash him a challenging smile, the one he loved to see on your face.

He let out a breath, his smile softening into something almost tender. "Oh, I’m coming," he said, taking your hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours as he pulled you toward the elevator. "And don’t think for a second that I’m letting you out of my sight."

As the elevator doors closed behind you, the teasing banter between you faded into silence, replaced by a different kind of tension—one that promised tonight was only the beginning of something that neither of you could walk away from now.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The car ride to Hotch’s apartment was silent but not the uncomfortable kind. It was the kind of silence that crackled with tension, filled with every word neither of you dared to speak aloud. Every glance he stole in your direction made your pulse quicken; every brush of his hand against yours made your breath hitch just a little. You were both wound tight, like two live wires sparking dangerously close.

When you finally reached his place, Hotch opened the door with a practiced calm, but you could see the fire still simmering just beneath his composed exterior. He let you step inside first, and the second the door clicked shut behind you, something seemed to shift between you—a silent understanding that whatever happened next would change everything.

"You know," you said, turning to face him, your voice teasing but your smile almost too genuine, "I never thought I’d end up here, with you, of all people."

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he took a slow step toward you. "Trust me," he said, his voice low and rough, "I never planned on it either. But somehow, you’ve got a way of turning my plans upside down."

You let out a breathless laugh, the kind that felt like a release of all the pent-up tension between you. "I guess I have a knack for getting under your skin, huh?" you teased, taking a step closer to him, so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Under my skin?" Hotch murmured, his gaze darkening as he reached out, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. "You’ve done a lot more than that."

He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from yours, the anticipation almost unbearable. But before he could close the distance, you pulled back slightly, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Easy there, Hotchner," you said, a teasing lilt in your voice. "Are you sure you can handle this? I wouldn’t want you to lose control on me now."

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head, and in one swift movement, he had you pinned against the wall, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in. His face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips, warm and teasing. "Oh, I’m more than ready," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "but don’t think for a second that I’m letting you call the shots tonight."

Before you could muster a retort, his lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and consuming, a raw release of everything you’d both been holding back. This wasn’t the careful, testing kiss from before—this was a battle of wills, a clash of all the fire and passion that had been building between you for so long.

You responded just as fiercely, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, your mouth opening under his, desperate to taste every inch of him. His hands slid to your hips, gripping tight as he pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the wall in a way that left no space between you.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, "Come on, Hotchner, that’s the best you can do? I thought you’d at least make me work for it."

His eyes flashed with something wild and hungry, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, voice rough like gravel, "I’m just getting started."

Without another word, he scooped you up in his arms, his grip firm yet gentle, and carried you through the hallway, his lips never straying far from yours. He kicked open the door to his bedroom, the darkness of the room swallowed up by the heat between you two. He set you down on the bed with a deliberate slowness, his eyes drinking you in like he was memorizing every detail.

"You have no idea how much you’ve messed with my head," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and longing as he leaned over you, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "How many nights I’ve spent wanting you, hating you for making me feel this way."

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "Believe me," you said softly, all the teasing gone from your voice, "I know exactly how you feel."

Hotch's expression shifted then, something raw and unguarded flickering in his eyes, and he crashed his lips onto yours again, this time with a desperation that bordered on reverence. He kissed you like he was pouring all his unspoken words into it—all the frustration, the longing, the need that he’d kept buried for so long.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off him in one swift motion, and his hands followed suit, sliding under your top, lifting it over your head with a quick, impatient motion. His fingers traced the bare skin of your waist, sending shivers down your spine as he drank in the sight of you like he was seeing something he’d been waiting for his entire life.

"You make this harder than it needs to be," he said, his voice a rough whisper against your lips, his hands caressing your skin with a touch that was both tender and possessive. "But I wouldn’t have it any other way."

"Good," you murmured, your lips brushing his as you smiled, that fiery spark still dancing in your eyes. "Because I’m not done driving you crazy yet."

His answering laugh was low and rough, a sound that made your toes curl. "Bring it on," he growled, his mouth crashing onto yours once more, claiming you with a kiss that left no room for doubt, no space for second-guessing.

This wasn’t just a moment. This was everything—the culmination of all the fights, the banter, the fire you had both sparked from the beginning. The dance had finally peaked, and you knew there was no going back now.

As he pulled you closer, his hands mapping every inch of your body with a hunger that matched your own, you realized that you didn’t want to go back. Not to the arguments, not to the distance, not to the days of pretending this wasn’t inevitable.

Whatever this was—this fire, this madness, this undeniable connection—you were both all in, ready to let it burn as bright and as hot as it needed to.

And as his lips moved over yours, the night stretching out ahead of you, one thought echoed in your mind with a clarity that was impossible to ignore: This was only the beginning.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The first light of dawn crept through the blinds of Hotch’s bedroom, casting soft shadows across the room. You blinked awake, a lazy smile spreading across your face as the events of the night slowly came rushing back—how it had started with teasing banter and ended with the two of you tangled together in ways that left no room for ambiguity.

You turned your head slightly to see Hotch lying next to you; his face softened in sleep, a look of peacefulness that you rarely saw on him. The lines of stress and worry that usually creased his brow were smoothed out, his breathing even and slow. At this moment, he looked almost boyish, vulnerable in a way that made your heart squeeze just a little.

Careful not to wake him, you let yourself watch him for a moment longer, taking in this rare sight of Aaron Hotchner—not the stoic leader of the BAU, not your sparring partner in the bullpen, but just a man who’d let his walls down for you.

Just then, Hotch’s eyes fluttered open, and the soft sleepiness was quickly replaced by that intense gaze that never failed to set your pulse racing. He gave you a small, almost shy smile—a look you hadn’t seen on him before and one that did dangerous things to your heart.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and rough from sleep, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

"Morning," you replied, unable to keep the smile from your face as you met his gaze. "So, about last night…"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and he raised an eyebrow in that infuriatingly charming way of his. "You mean the part where you practically tackled me against the wall or the part where you admitted you’ve been three steps ahead of me this whole time?"

You let out a breathy laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. "Oh, please," you said, leaning in slightly. "If I recall correctly, you were the one who said you were 'just getting started,' Hotchner."

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your stomach flip. "Touché," he said, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your bare shoulder. "But I have to say, if this is what happens when we stop fighting, I’m not sure I want to go back."

You paused, the teasing smile fading slightly as you looked at him, something softer, more vulnerable settling in your chest. "You’re really okay with this?" you asked, your voice quieter now, the question carrying more weight than you intended.

Hotch’s expression shifted, the playfulness giving way to something deeper, something that spoke of sincerity and warmth. He reached out, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "More than okay," he said softly, his eyes locked on yours. "I know this changes everything, and that scares me a little—but not as much as the thought of pretending this didn’t mean something."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he stopped you with a gentle press of his lips against yours—a kiss that was so different from the ones last night. It was soft, slow, like he was savoring the taste of something he’d finally allowed himself to have.

When he pulled back, you gave him a lopsided smile, your voice teasing but with a hint of tenderness. "You know, for a guy who spent so much time trying to get me to fall in line, you’re awfully good at breaking your own rules."

Hotch let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "Maybe I’ve always been a little too good at breaking them when it comes to you," he said, a hint of that old mischief dancing in his eyes. "Besides, it’s only fair—you’ve been breaking down my walls from the start."

You arched an eyebrow, smirking at him. "Who knew all it took to get through to the great Aaron Hotchner was a little bit of sass and a lot of stubbornness?"

"Trust me," he said, his smile turning soft, almost shy again, "it’s more than just the sass and stubbornness. You’ve always had a way of seeing through the tough exterior, straight to the heart of it all. Even when I didn’t want you to."

The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, and for once, you found yourself speechless. You stared at him, the man who had always seemed so distant, so unreachable, now lying here beside you with his guard completely down.

"You know," you said finally, your voice barely more than a whisper, "I didn’t expect this to happen."

"Neither did I," Hotch admitted, his hand tightening around yours, "but I’m not sorry it did."

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I’m not sure how we’re going to explain this to the team. You know they’ll never let us live it down."

A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. "Oh, I’m counting on it," he said, leaning in closer until his lips were just a breath away from yours. "Besides, I’m pretty sure they already have us pegged as the bickering married couple of the team. This will just confirm their suspicions."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. "Oh great, so now we’re giving them material for years to come. Just what I needed."

Hotch chuckled, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was playful and sweet yet still carrying that hint of fire that never seemed to go away. "Well, if we’re going to give them something to talk about," he murmured against your lips, "we might as well make it worth their while."

You raised an eyebrow, your smile turning into a smirk as you gave him a light shove. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

He grinned, pulling you back into his arms, his voice a low whisper against your ear. "And you wouldn’t have it any other way."

You realized he was right. You wouldn’t have it any other way. The fire, the fights, the laughter—it was all a part of what had led you here, to this moment, to him.

And as the morning light continued to filter through the window, warming the room, you knew that whatever happened next, you and Hotch were in it together.

And that was more than enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Walking into the BAU the next morning felt different—like the air itself had changed. As you and Hotch stepped into the bullpen, you couldn’t help the way your shoulders brushed, the way his gaze lingered on you just a moment longer than usual. The two of you had agreed to keep things professional, at least while on the job, but there was an undeniable shift between you—like a secret that wasn’t much of a secret at all.

As you both moved to your respective desks, trying your best to look like everything was perfectly normal, you were acutely aware of the way the team's eyes tracked your every move. Morgan and JJ were huddled near the coffee station, grinning like they were in on the world’s biggest joke, while Garcia’s jaw practically hit the floor the second she spotted you two.

"Well, well, well," Morgan said, straightening up with a grin so wide it looked like it might split his face in two. "If it isn’t the lovebirds gracing us with their presence. How was the night, you two?"

You rolled your eyes, a hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. "Please," you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, "you act like this is something new. We’ve been driving each other crazy for months."

"Oh, trust me, we noticed," JJ chimed in, her grin just as wide as Morgan’s. "But judging by the way you two walked in this morning, I’m guessing the banter took a… different turn last night?"

Hotch, ever the picture of composure, adjusted his tie as if this was just another day at the office. "I’m not sure what you’re implying, JJ," he said in that calm, collected tone of his, though you could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh, come on, Hotch," Garcia said, practically bouncing on her toes with excitement. "So, anything new happening here that we should know about?

"Remind me to never play poker with any of you," you said dryly, raising an eyebrow at the lot of them. "You can’t hide anything."

Morgan leaned against his desk, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. "And here I thought the toughest thing to crack in this office was the newest unsub," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Turns out, it was the two of you."

Hotch offered a small, controlled smile, giving Morgan a pointed look but saying nothing, his silence more telling than any words.

"Exactly," you said, turning to Hotch with a grin. "Might as well own up to the fact that I’ve been right all along, and you’ve been falling behind since day one."

"Oh, is that how you remember it?" Hotch replied, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "I seem to recall you being the one who couldn’t keep up."

You felt a laugh bubbling up, the banter between you as natural as ever, but now it was tinged with something lighter, something softer. "Keep telling yourself that, Hotchner," you said, crossing your arms with a teasing smile. "We both know I’m the one who’s three steps ahead."

Morgan let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, this is going to be fun to watch," he said. "You two are never going to stop, are you?"

Hotch gave Morgan a look that was both calm and controlled, but there was a slight softening at the corner of his mouth, a hint of a smile that only you would recognize. "Let's try to keep it professional," he said in his usual authoritative tone, though you could see the glimmer of amusement hidden in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but smirk at his response, the challenge still present between you even if he wasn’t openly saying it. "Of course, Hotch," you said with a touch of mock seriousness. "I wouldn’t dream of making things too easy for you."

Hotch’s lips twitched ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, as he turned back to his desk, his expression as unreadable as ever to the rest of the team. But in that brief glance, you saw it—the silent promise, the unspoken words that lingered between you: this is far from over.

The rest of the team exchanged amused glances, their smiles wide and knowing. It was clear that this was the moment they’d all been waiting for, the confirmation of what they’d suspected for far too long.

As the team gradually settled back into their usual routine, you felt Hotch’s hand brush lightly against yours, a subtle touch that sent a thrill through you. You turned to look at him, and he gave you a small, private smile—a look that was meant only for you.

"Think you can handle the rest of the day without causing too much trouble?" he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes warm.

"I don’t know," you said, leaning in just a little closer, your voice a soft whisper only he could hear. "Trouble seems to be the one thing I’m really good at."

Hotch’s smile widened, and he shook his head slightly, a glimmer of affection in his eyes. "Good," he said softly. "Because I have a feeling we’re just getting started."

And as the day carried on, with the team throwing you both teasing looks and sly smiles, you knew that things were never going to be the same again. The banter, the fire, the arguments—they were still there, but now they were wrapped in something new, something deeper.

And this time, you were both all in, ready to face whatever came next together.

The worst-kept secret in the BAU was out, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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