#when i had to sit there every day and acknowledge what id done and all the hurt i caused and how i couldnt fix it?

[izzyshandz]

I swear if i see one more mf say izzy has been 'redeemed' or needed a 'redemption arc' im literally going to scream into my pillow until i lose my voice.

redeem is such a black and white way of looking at his entire character and dismisses everything hes gone through and yall (izzy haters and others) are just so fucking snob nosed and ignorant to sit there and think hes a villain because of how he acted. theyre fucking pirates. theyre not perfect, none of them are. eds a villain, stedes a villain, if youre doing it like that. ed has killed so many people, stede literally left his wife and kids and also had a hand in killing people; it may be easier for them to change because of the perspective the show gives them and they had love but izzy did not. everyone hated him, ed, his own crew, stedes crew.

normalizing peoples reactions to things as something other than villainy and heroism is so god damn important in a show that's trying to accurately involve our perspectives in this day and age. its a tale as old as time, making someone 'completely in the wrong' because their perspective isnt the one you aligned with as much.

like the rest of the crew izzy had his own bad things hes done, he didnt need this 'redemption' everyones blabbering on about. he needed to be fucking heard, to be seen, and acknowledged-- not thrown aside and abandoned because of a whim. you all can ride up blackbeards ass because oh hes so hot, hes so pretty omg wow; but that wont ever change the fact his character is a fucked up person... youre allowed to love him anyways, why not izzy? we didnt see blackbeard before screen but how hes mentioned it shows he was a shit awful person, the only reason no one cares is because on hes fuckin gay for stede or whatever so the main characters get a free ride. ( i agree they all get a free ride, im just tired of this izzy isolation man )

why does he need to be redeemed in your eyes? just because youve seen what hes done? he was literally a product of his environment in season one he was a product of blackbeard's leadership. only with the loyalty and solidarity of the crew did he really begin to find himself, thats fucking hard to do that late in life. instead of calling it some bullshit black and white redemption arc, lets just celebrate izzy being himself and being fucking loved for once in his god damn life.

hes also way more fucking mature and put together than people give him credit for. love you izzy.

edit: thank you all for the reblogs and insights in every single one, i read them i promise i do. im just so mf heartbroken we have to tag things as discourse when its really just about people not being compassionate. (as a couple people have pointed out) i will said id reblog and comment on every single tag but this is my side </3 EVERYONE PLEASE READ THE REBLOGGED TAGS TOO / / theyre so real ! ive also opened up that ask box thingy i havent been on tumblr in yrs and have 0 clue how any of that works if anyone wants my perspective on anything izzy related. *or otherwise ofmd related

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I found something that reminded me of Delta but I'm too shy to come off of anon, so I'll be translating the image to text.

[ID: "Hello character who is desperate to be a good person; I want to play a game. In front of you is the one person you will never be able to save. You have the rest of your life to make peace with this. There are no defined repercussions if you fail, but we both know you're going to attempt to win regardless. Your time starts now."]

Thoughts?

I had two. One, Color and Epic. Two, Ultratale Frisk.

I feel the Color one should be clear. The man is chasing after someone who dangerous and unstable, because Color simply can’t stand to sit around and do nothing when someone who is hurting has asked him for help.

This puts Color’s life in danger, his mental health, his safety. Potentially anyone Color is connected to if Nightmare is that petty to want revenge, which in turn fucks up Color’s mental health more and encourages him to keep moving on.

Of course, the trauma of being forgotten and trapped in the Void for who knows how long greatly effected Color’s issues with feeling trapped and always needing to stay on the move, but the need to chase after Killer and also avoid drawing Nightmare’s potential attention to anyone else close to Color is another motivation.

Delta gets first hand exposure to how everything with Killer and Nightmare affects Color. He’s very likely the one who tries to patch up Color’s injuries because Color doesn’t want to do it himself, he’s the one who calms Color down from panic attacks, nightmares, flashbacks, and meltdowns when Killer isn’t there to try.

He’s the one who sees the fear in Color’s eye when, after finally saving Killer, even losing sight of the other guy causes Color to tremble and overthink. Delta’s the one who hears about all the awful things Color had to watch be done to Killer, and he’s the one who hears Color’s fears that Killer will forget him one day.

Color isn’t often like this, he’s usually more laid back even if more prone to being grumpy. But Delta sees it all and tries his absolute best to support his friend when he’s struggling so much, and most days Delta can’t help but try to convince Color to stop. Chasing after Killer is killing him slowly, and it hurts Delta watch him deteriorate before his eyes.

(I’m also of the belief that being a witness to this type of stuff from both Epic and Color is precisely one of the reasons why the guy has issues with both Killer and Cross at first, outside of the whole crimes and murder. They hurt his friends and made him powerless to do anything but watch and try to convince them to care about themselves even half as much as they do about others.

Of course, this is mostly a subconscious thing Delta probably refuses to acknowledge or admit to himself at first because he’s aware that Cross and Killer weren’t doing it intentionally, but still. Emotions and trauma aren’t logical.)

Two, Ultratale Frisk. Delta seems to have taken it as a very deep personal failure that he failed to stop Frisk from having their soul absorbed, and he seems to think that’s precisely why everyone in his AU—the entire Underground—died. Because he was too lazy and sat on the sidelines, doing nothing but watching.

And dreaming about Toriel from Beta’s memories makes it so much worse—because of the promise he made to protect Frisk. Delta has grown to care for Beta himself, from Beta’s memories he can see just how much Toriel cared for both Beta and Frisk and therefore likely every other fallen child. How the grief and loss, over and over, would’ve impacted his friend, and how he was careless to make that promise to protect Frisk.

He looks at Beta, all their innocence and youth, and sees Frisk; what he failed to protect. What the entire Underground failed to protect, even. The children. The future.

Out of Frisk and Color/Epic, I think the only one he’ll ever be able to make peace with being unable to save is Frisk. Not only because it has already happened and he needs to move on, for his own kid now, for Toriel’s memory as well, because this is definitely what Papyrus would want for him—but because Frisk is a lesson—a reminder. To not let any of the other children be unprotected like that again, to try and protect them and by extension the Underground in other AUs.

He’d love to be able to protect Frisk like he should’ve, like he said he would, but he didn’t. It hurts, but he didn’t. He will do better. If he had Frisk in front of him again, he’d probably ruffle their hair or pat their head—make one of his rare jokes again, before genuinely apologizing for failing them.

And Frisk would probably smile and give him a tight hug, forgiveness before they have to go for good this time. Maybe they’d say hello to Beta, and approve of Delta’s work of trying to protect AUs and take care of Beta—but they’d remind him to not join them and the rest of the Underground. Papyrus misses him, too, but he’d better not see Sans too soon.

(Of course, the prompt is can Sans accept that he can never save Frisk no matter how badly he wants to; not can Sans realize that he never could’ve realistically protected Frisk in the first place. He’s gonna need a therapist to unpack that one.)

As for Epic and Color, these are the two he refuses to accept that he can’t save—even if only from themselves. In his eyes, they’re good, strong people—they’ve been through far too much to pass on from life with anything but a big smile and no regrets, happy.

(Of course, though. Does he realize how happy Epic would be to simply die?)

So I think he already experiences having Color and Epic in front of him everyday, trying to support them and help them and refusing to accept the possibility that he can’t.

[xx-jazzilla]

⚠️ Long emotionally draining post to vent ⚠️

I love my kids and family with every single part of me.... but I cannot help feeling my pregnancy has been stolen from me.

After the miscarried I couldn't think straight or do anything but feel helpless for our loss, for what I lost. With PCOS it already took so long and was so hard to get pregnant that we were nearly a year into discussing and talking about our 2nd baby. When I got a positive test it was so great, and when I sat in a waiting room for 2 hours after my 12 weeks ultrasound I couldn't help but fear the worst happened. When they confirmed it I couldn't even finish the appointment, I pulled over repeatedly on the drive home crying too much to see and went straight to Ben. I spent weeks unable to imagine a worse feeling - until I got a 3rd positive test 7 weeks later and the doctor said they could have missed something because we weren't even sure id had a period.

I spent my 1dt trimester constantly terrified, terrified of another loss and how I couldn't mentally handle it a 2nd time. Then at 12 weeks again I started bleeding... so much blood I was terrified because I didn't bleed last time so something had to be really wrong. I was thankful to hear her heartbeat in the ER but nobody told me why I was bleeding for nearly 2 weeks, I just bled and stressed until they said it was a hemorrhage but we were okay. I still bled for 2 months, and nothing made me feel better until it stopped at 19 weeks.

I got 3 weeks of relief. We were in the 2nd trimester, we were finally "safe". Then at 21 weeks, more blood and discharge and I really thought it was nothing. But it was Saturday so I couldn't go to my doctor, and better safe than sorry. Until it wasn't safe. Again.

I had 3 mm of cervix left, I was "silently dilating" from contractions I just thought were pregnancy pain in my back, and my waters were bulging. The doctors said I had an "insufficient cervix" because incompetent cervix was no longer a nice term. I signed and acknowledged the risks of my D&C and thought that couldn't possibly happen to me. But if I didn't I could die because my body wasn't aware I was miscarrying.

We weren't safe, again. Our children and I were at risk, again. And for the 3rd time in a year I felt entirely helpless as a mom, even though I've worked so freaking hard to be a better parent. To be a consistent mom and DO better than what I knew.

It has been 2 months since then, and I feel like I've lost nearly every joy of pregnancy. I have no friends and family with me, even though they call and text and check in regularly im still thousands of miles from a hug when I'm having a hard day. I can't do things by myself, even though I worked until my water broke with Austin and enjoyed our life together still. I sit, and worry and think about what I've done wrong to be here. About all the people I know that take their kids for granted, that weren't parents and yet how easy it seemed for them and how unfair that is. How stressful every little pain is, especially the last few days of being in constant pain -because I don't know how bad it could end up being.

I'm thankful for Ben, he has taken on everything and more for us. The house, the stress of bills from none of us working, being full time dad and the worry for his daughter. I've never felt so much love, and commitment and like I could count on 1 person so much.

I also appreciate everyone reaching out, and your thoughts and good wishes for our safety. I don't want anyone to think that I do not see all the love we are given and aren't thankful.

But this is draining, I feel like I've lost my pregnancy and myself. Like my body is incapable and I don't understand why this is happening to us. As though I'm alone in so many ways, but can't express that because I "have to be grateful" nd so many people are "praying for us" and I feel so hateful because sometimes I just want to scream IM FREAKING ATHEIST PLEASE HELP ME IN A WAY THATS GEARED TOWARDS ME AND MY HEALING NOT TO APPEASE YOUR OWN EGO.

[ctrlemis]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒. COMEBACK SEASON(never a real thing.)

word count. 1.0k. warnings. angst😐

Like every Sunday before, Y/N prepared to go out by herself. After Friday and their 100 day celebration, they slept through Saturday, passing each other in the usually lively halls of their dorms when they left their rooms for food.

Today was the same, with Hades still in her room. She was still sad about seeing Jake and Chaewon together, and even though they had done their best to cheer up Hades, along with Rei, she had become unresponsive, only replying to Sei whenever the eldest texted the leader to make sure she was still alive. Rei was also in somewhat of a slump, but she was doing better. As Y/N had come out of the shower, she overheard Rei and Nadia on the phone with Riki and Eunchae, discussing going to an arcade later on in the day.

Sei seemed to be holding up okay, and Y/N could recall the white-haired girl giggling and talking in a hushed tone around 2am on Saturday. Still, she could tell Sei wasn’t telling them everything; not at least with her personal life. But that was understandable.

“Alright, I'm leaving! Don’t text me unless someone’s dead or Iseul-oppa is getting married!” She yelled as she slipped on her shoes. She was dressed incognito, sweats with a zipped up hoodie and sunglasses. She had her bag with her wallet and HYBE ID, along with a water bottle and some other things. She stands, grabbing her keys off the wall.

When she opens the door, ready to be out of their dorms, she’s met with Sunghoon standing in front of her, seconds from knocking. Both parties freeze, unsure of the situation at hand. Y/N, however, is the first to recover, and she pushes him out of the way, pulling the door closed and sticking her key into the hole to lock it. When she’s finished, she leaves, not acknowledging his presence at all. He recovers quickly after though, and runs after her, calling her name out. She didn't pay him any mind until they got to the lobby. She whips around, and he almost stumbles back at the sudden action.

“What the hell do you want, Park?” Y/N demands, and Sunghoon's heart clenches at the use of his last name.

“Look, I'm sorry for whatever I did, alright? You've been icing me out the past few days, and it sucks. So i'm here to apologize.” Y/N scoffs, shaking her head.

“You sound so condescending. ‘Oh you didn't pay attention to me so i’m here to beg for forgiveness.’ Get out of my face.” Y/N turns, but he grabs her wrist. She looks at him, and notices he has on her jacket from that day.

“Please.” He pleads of her. “I really don't know-”

“You laughed at me!” She pulled her arm away. “You laughed at that insult your ex made about me on live television!" The look on his face when Y/N said 'your ex' and not Chaewon added fuel to her fire. "You laughed like it was funny, like she was right! So yeah, I'm not talking to you right now, deal with it.”

“What? No, wait.” Y/N turns on the heels of her feet. Sunghoon rushes after her. “Y/N, please. I was trying to ease the tension, I didn't know what to say!” Y/N stopped at the door, not turning around. “Please. I don't want us to-”

“There is no us!” Y/N snarls. “There never was an us! We were never a real thing, this whole thing was nothing but a publicity ploy. Get over yourself, because both of us know it was never real.” She ignores the tears filling her eyes and pushes the door open, leaving Sunghoon standing there.

And unknown to both parties was the fact that Choi Chaewon was sitting in the lobby, and overheard every part of their conversation.

Hades was in the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. She looked at her phone confused before looking back at the door; Y/N hadn't texted her and Nadia and Rei had only left a few minutes ago. She checked the mirror near the door, making sure she looked alright. She walked over to the door, unlocking it and opening it.

Jake stood there, fidgeting with his chain around his neck. He looks almost surprised, as if he was expecting someone else. Hades swallows hardly despite nothing being in her throat. Slowly, she closed the door in his face, hand still on the knob. She stood there for a second, before opening the door again, looking at him in confusion.

“Uh-” She starts, but Jake cuts her off before she can say anything.

“I wasn't doing anything with Chaewon.” He says. “She came to my room to, i don't know, start something, but i pushed her off and you came and then-” Hades puts her hand over Jake’s mouth, and he stops speaking immediately. While the curly haired girl wears a blank expression, she feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off of her; Even if there was a chance he was lying, it didn't make sense. Why come all the way over here to explain to her, they had barely even interacted alone? She voices that exact question as she removes her hand from his mouth. He fidgets with the rings on his fingers, avoiding eye contact.

“I just, I didn't want you to get the wrong idea.” He explains, looking at her. “I really-” He stops, cheeks reddening. “I just think you're cool, and I didn't want you to get the wrong impression; I don't like Chaewon at all.” Hades is quiet for a while, processing the things he just told her.

“Well, thank you. For explaining.” She says slowly. “And I also think you're cool.” She adds, heat rushing to her face. Then she notices his hand behind his back, eyebrows furrowing. “ What's that?” She gestures to it, and he almost glitches, face turning redder by the second. He pulls a bouquet of pink Hydrangeas from behind his back, heading them to her; Her favorite type of flower. “How did you-”

“I asked Heeseung to ask Sei.” He says, and for some reason he sounds breathless. “I would really like to be friends with you, Hades.” Hades smiles at him, a soft sigh leaving her.

“I’d like that, Jake.”

A/N. ....please understand i am in as much pain as yall🙁 but rei + eunaki hangout? love that for them my babies🫶🏾 and jades friendship we love

SYNOPSIS. Y/N never considered once after she debuted that she would get the chance to (fake)date Park Sunghoon, the boy she had a crush on since he debuted. Sunghoon on the other had never thought he would get the chance to date the newly debuted idol from VEVILA. Both feel as though they are on cloud nine, until Sunghoon has to mc with his ex, who can’t catch a hint.

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[jossambird]

The Scent on your coat P4

Summary: You reflect on your life choices, and despite your wants, Life had other plans for you.

Otto Octavius x F!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: NS/FW Subjects, No Doc in this Chapter (or is there) but building to the next part, mentions of emotional Reader, heartbreak, yearning for things you can’t have.

Ao3 Fic Link for previous parts, or on my masterlist!

-

“I've only ever wanted you.” You repeated into the silence of your apartment, barely listening to the news that played on tv. Images of various villains flittered on the screen, your eyes falling on the one face you couldn’t stop seeing behind your eyelids. You shut the tv off with a huff, eyes watering at the whole mess.

Hands slinging your blanket over your back, you bundled yourself up and sat in bed, pulling your other blanket over your legs and feet. You couldn’t even begin to find the correct words for just how much you had missed Otto.

Even after all this time, Otto remained as handsome as he had been the last time you had seen him all those dreadful months ago. His soft brown hair that shined red in the sunlight, his gorgeous brown eyes that used to always seek you out in a crowd.

You sighed, replaying his words in your mind. Did he mean everything he had said? He had never been a liar, that you knew…

For weeks after his accident, you had thought him dead. For months, you had listened to the radio and new outlets, slandering his work and very career once he had emerged, tentacles and all, turning to a life of crime.

How long had you mourned him, mourned the fragile friendship you had had together, mourned his work but most importantly, mourned your love for him? It had taken weeks, months even, to finally be able to step back into this laboratory and work, and not be pitied by every living soul here.

They had all known of your deep and dark secret, the love you had held so dear for the Scientist, but stayed silent.. all except for one.

Peter Parker. Sweet Peter Parker, always there for you no matter, always asking if you needed help or a shoulder to cry on, always asking how you were holding up with everything.

It had been Peter, of all people, who had saved you from the endless internal darkness that had started to consume you slowly but surely, depression sinking its claws into you and pushing you towards dangerous thoughts.

He, who had asked you if you wanted to go see a movie together. He, who had walked you home every night afterwards, only ever smiling and offering his arm whilst you tried to say it was okay.

He, who had tentatively asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend that one summer night after a quiet walk, knowing full well how your heart held a part of itself for another.

It was he, who had kissed your lips, reassuring you that he understood what it felt like, having already lost the love of his life too.

And so, telling yourself that maybe this was what you needed to finally forget Octavius, you had given him a chance; slowly taking your time together and learning about one another, becoming closer and closer by the passing day.

Peter’s secret identity hadn't been kept from you long after you noticed Spiderman arriving at your Oscorp to walk you home, just like Peter did. He had practically fallen off a building when you asked out loud if he was done stalking you like a creep, his laugh echoing softly in the noisy New York streets.

“Aren’t you afraid a villain will come and kidnap me Pe- Spiderman?” You had asked him, grinning even though your heart clenched at the idea of *one* villain kidnapping you. Thoughts like those were burned and shooed away, trying to focus on the good and kind man that loved you.

“Don’t worry, Ill always protect you Y/N.” He assured you with a whisper, bowing his head as you stepped inside your shared apartment complex.

You had come to love him too, in a way, over time.

Your first time together was the moment you realized your heart was irreparable; Peter’s hands were on your hips, holding you softly as he fucked you but in that moment, another man’s name found itself on your lips, a name all too familiar to you, trying to make its way out and into the air between you. You hadn’t let it, swallowing both it and your shame down, sorrow coursing through you as Peter called out your name.

A few days later, on an early September day, as you turned away from the amazing view from your apartment window, the wind blowing your hair from your face, you had felt it; Nervous energy in the air, shudders wracking your body.

Peter Parker asked you to marry him on the same balcony moments after.

No amount of preparation would have ever prepared you for the absolute heartbreak you had felt as the man before you wore bruises shaped like claws, deep cuts and barely fading scars, crooked grin smiling up at you with a ring in hand, waiting.

“I know I’m not him, and you aren’t her, but I'd like to love you for the rest of my life.”

You had sobbed under the loud noise of the shower until the water turned cold, and after.

Though now, sitting here alone in your living room, you wondered why life sought to hurt you so.

Soon you would be married to a sweet man who loved you, adored you, and all fantasies of the tall Doctor Octavius would have to be forgotten and erased.

You sighed again, burying your face into your blanketed hands, trying to will yourself to stop feeling this way. Peter deserved someone who loved him with all their heart, not someone who craved another and had let said man eat them out in their previous work place.

A knock sounded at your front door and you frowned, standing, wrapped in your blankets still, to answer.

Would it be possible… that he would come? Would he knock on the door, or simply open it, hands seeking you out and untying your robe, touching what he had already accidentally claimed?

As you turned the handle and opened the door, your inner shame grew, eyes landing on the smiling face of your best friend Allie.

“Thought Id come see how the bride-to-be was feeling! How- Oh my god Y/N what's wrong?” Allie said in a rush as she saw tears form in your beautiful eyes, stepping inside in a hurry to comfort you. You could barely let out a sob, let alone words, arms wrapping around the woman.

“Y/N, babydoll, what's going on? You can talk to me, you know that right? Nothing leaves this room, only between you and me.” Your best friend whispered, holding you tightly.

She pulled away, arms still wrapped around you but just enough to see your face, and you knew she had figured it out, knew she had pieced it together. “Oh, Y/N… It’ll be okay, it’ll go away.”

What Allie failed to know though, was that you didn’t want it to go away, still feeling his soft but firm fingers holding your thighs and ankles, kisses laid against your skin.

You didn’t want your love for Otto Octavius to disappear, just like the words of love and adoration groaned along your thighs and core, expressive brown eyes seeking yours out in desperation. Desperate for what, you still didn’t know, but it made your heart race, thinking that the renowned Doctor Octavius and villain Doctor Octopus wanted to see you reach ecstasy by his hand and his alone, desperate for only his name to find itself on your tongue.

And you felt even more horrible for it.

*

Allie held you close, blankets wrapped around the both of you as she flicked through channels on TV.

“Want to talk about it?” She whispered, eyes still trailed on the TV but you knew her attention was solely on you.

What was there to say in a situation like this?

“No.” You croaked out, snuggling closer against her in an effort to forget everything, forget the outside world, forget the fact that the very man you wanted most of all was also somewhere out there. You weren’t surprised when Allie sighed, the sound of the TV shutting off. She laid down beside you, worried eyes gazing back at you.

“You know, it's not…” Allie paused, breath caught in her throat at the sight of you.

“It's not abnormal for marriages to be cancelled.” She continued, her eyes flickering over your face for a sign that you were understanding her meaning. You could barely breathe as she waited, the implication of her words sounding out.

“Allie thats- Peter, he-“ you tried, heart breaking at the idea of telling Peter you could no longer marry him. Allie, the beautiful thing she was, faked a gag and rose up, sitting beside you.

“Y/N, forget Pete for the moment okay? He doesn’t exist right here, right now.” She started, turning back towards your surprised visage with a finger pointed at you.

“I will always be here for you. I know you aren’t happy… I just want you to know that it’s never too late to cancel anything.”

You cried that night, silently into your pillow, never acknowledging the words she had spoken. Allie remained with you for the next few days, never uttering another word of the subject she had begun, helping you instead prepare for your wedding.

That night, you dreamt of large hands pulling you close and whispers of love pressed against your breast, heartbeat steady as he asked the one thing you could never lie about:

“Do you love me, Y/N? Me, and only me?” He whispered, lips moving against your collarbone, heated kisses following his words.

“I've only ever loved you.” You whispered back and watched the Otto before you smile, his hold turning bruising.

*

New York, even at night, was never silent. Noises could be heard everywhere and anywhere, people out and about, some heading home and some heading out.

Allie liked the hustle and bustle of the town, always eager to find a new Hole-in-the-wall type of bar or restaurant to get drunk in, and tonight, after saying she wanted to make you feel better with sushi, hadn’t been any different. She hummed under her breath and dutifully followed you back to your apartment, the both of you enjoying each other’s presence.

Convenience store bags in hand, you looked back at Allie as she wobbled, her steps mismatched, a half empty beer can in hand.

“Come on Al, we're almost there!” You laughed, watching her try to Hopscotch along the street. She stopped, eyes wide and smile even wider, throwing the beer can into the air and away from the both of you, making you cringe as it hit the ground.

“Oh my god- Was that a laugh!?” She yelled happily, the smell of beer and sake wafting off of her as she ran up beside you and held you close, arms trapped in her hold. You couldn’t help but smile at your best friend, mouth opening to chastise her for littering but you didn’t have the time; a faint melody met both your ears and Allie beamed, disentangling herself from you. You barely had time to register what song it was before she leaned away, breathing in sharply and letting loose.

“You should have bought her flowers!” She sang out, words echoing in the streets around you. Sang was perhaps too kind of a word though, as she scratchily belted out Bruno Mars lyrics.

“Shh! Oh my god Allie, shhhhhhh! Shut up!” You tried, running after her as she continued back to your apartment complex, uncaring of the people passing you by.

“You should’ve held her hand! Should’ve given her all your hours!” You barely made it in time to her, free hand rising to try and quiet her, heart racing as you imagined someone hearing-

“But now she’s marrying another man!”

Her words felt like a bath of freezing cold water, any remnants of alcohol in your system instantly evaporating.

She was right. You were, and no matter what fantasies and dreams you liked to imagine, you knew that life couldn’t continue like this, childishly hoping and wishing for another man to come sweep you up.

[kusagrasskusa]

Gaara X Innocent! Reader - "Hellfire"

Gaara's age is bumped up to 16 in this btw, and the reader is 16 as well. This takes place the night Gaara kills that one Sound Ninja on the rooftop, during the chunin exams. Also, Gaara might be considered a Yandere, but I don't know (you'll see why lol) Lastly, when I talk about Gaara burning, I mean it metaphorically. Yes, this is 100% based off The Hunchback of Notre Dame

FYI! This story isn't very romantic so if you're a fan of slightly darker stories, go ahead snd read this I suppose. Plus Y/N is kinda a coward in this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There he sat, on top of the rooftop late at night. Tomorrow would be the full moon, when Gaara's power would increase in perfect timing for another battle in the chunin exams. Competition is getting tough and examtakers are either extra aggressive with everyone or forming alliances. Not only that, but so many people are winning each challenge that too few people are being eliminated. That's all that's important and all that will be important until the Sand Village finally finishes off Konoha with the help of the Sound Village. But how, even with these much more important factors, is the only thing Gaara could think about is some normal pediatrician girl?

The moment he met her in the streets, a flame was set in his heart. He had been walking through Konoha after register for the exams and noticed a pretty young girl running through the streets, shouting for help. All she received was weird glances and eye rolls, however Gaara and his siblings caught on. Much to his sister and brother's surprise, Gaara had no problems hearing her pleas and then defending her. Someone had been following her; someone who her family had bad history with and from the looks of it, that person planned to hurt her.

He had no problems escorting her home and listening to her talk along the way. Her voice was so soft, her colorful kimono and flowers in her hair fitting for someone with an innocent and sweet personality. She seemed to be oblivious to the mysterious looks of Gaara and his siblings, or the way Gaara was so cold and silent. She payed no mind and spoke to him as id he was normal; like he was human. And it was that fact, her ignoring his dangerous aura, that lit that flame.

After since that day, that flame grew so strong. Every set of bright shades of the colors she wore on her clothes, every flower that she decorated herself with, every word or item that she mentioned in the little time she spoke to him, and everyone with E/C eyes would make him think of her. That sweet, kind, oblivious girl. It's like she cast a spell on him to make him slowly burn alive; that little flame she set it him would quickly grow into hellfire. His burning desires to see her again, to hold her, to love, traveled through his skin and veins. It didn't take long for Gaara to convince himself she did something cruel to him to use his demon, just like his father is using his demon to destroy Konoha in a few days.

Gaara was began to assume the girl was mocking him when she spoke to him so lightly; that he was no one to be afraid of. It was so insulting, but she was able to hide her cruel and disgraceful jeers under a sweet and loving facade and cute clothing. That has to be it, he thought. No one could ever like me, no one can love me, other than me. More and more of Gaara's thoughts were consumed, then all at once, by thoughts of her. She was like a demon dragging him to hell to torture forever. That beautiful girl with those lovely E/C eyes and pretty clothing was using him, he convinced himself. And someone like that deserved death.

That sweet, young girl had a name; Y/N. She was incapable of sleeping, as a terrible feeling in her stomach was keeping her awake. She pouted her lip and huffed, poking her stomach and whispering to herself, "I want that bad feeling to go away!" That feeling was pure anxiety and a hint of fear. These emotions were very uncommon for Y/N as she had always. Even a positive thinker with lots of love in her heart for even villains to an extent. She sighed, turning over in her bed on her back for sitting up, flipping her legs over her bedside. She stood up and put on a soft kimono over her pajamas and walked to the front door of her home, put on her sandels, and walked out. "Maybe a nice walk around the village will tire me out!"

"It's almost the full moon," Gaara said aloud. "My power will only grow stronger." He stood up, staring intensly at the moon as if it's the only thing keeping him from being devored by his hellish thoughts. His thoughts of how lovely it would be to destroy that girl who made his chest feel warm and his face heat up when she talked to him. That girl who made him feel the way he feels about himself, only a bit different. He had never felt romantic love to anyone, and for him to suddenly feel so strongly about someone instantly convinced him that she did something to him. Someone who would ever control him like would burn in hell before the hellfire consumes him first.

A rough, quiet and threatening voice erupted from behind the redhead. He paid no mind to anything that came out of the mouth of the Sound Village ninja rather just acknowledged that he wanted a fight. Without even realizing it, all that bloodlust built up through thinking of Y/N was released, ending in that Sound Village ninjas blood being spilled all over the roof top. It felt like a weight was taken off his back when he killed the ninja, but in the back of his head he knew it wasn't enough. Gaara didn't want that petty ninja, only that witch known as Y/N. Every passing second, that hellfire coursing through his veins were blazing out of control, weren't they?

"Maybe a nice walk around the village will tire me out!" Gaara's ears perked at that voice. That voice. Y/N's voice. Just like that, Gaara's need for blood grew strong again but this time, it felt different. He killed the Sound Village Ninja with aggression, but knowing he could kill Y/N now that he heard her close by made him feel an exciting kind of bloodlust. Those flames coursing through his body grew hotter every second, growing ever more desperate to get his hands on her.

"It's been a while since I've seen the garden at night come to think about. The moon is bright tonight so it's bound to be pretty sight!" That sweet, soft voice called out from the ground, below Gaara's feet. She walked the pathway it takes to find a nearby lake, where a nice little garden lays. A smile rose on Gaara's face; one of pure hate and excitement. His chest pained to greatly at the thought of her death, but that hellfire coursing through his body was telling him to hurt her. The front of his mind was screaming for him to kill her and use her blood as a piece of his deadly sand, but the back of his kind was whispering for him to comprehend how he feels about her first.

So he began to follow her. Gaara quietly walked from the rooftops, not daring to make a single sound. He continued to smile as he followed her, his smile growing the more he heard her talk to herself. Such a sweet girl with such a pure heart. It's a shame someone with Gaara's problems sees her as a witch because he loves her. As another 10 minutes go by, Y/N began walking into the woods and towards the lake. Gaara jumped to the ground without making a sound and followed her discreetly by hiding behind trees. He stopped when Y/N did. Y/N's eyes widened and sparkled at the amazing sight before her; the moon reflecting on the lake as beautiful flowers and trees accompanied toads on lilipads in the water. Pure bliss.

"Wow...It's incredible!" She laughed in awe. "My arms feel so weak at the sight," she spoke again as her smile widened. "I wish mom was here to see this!" Gaara hummed, looking over the scenery as well. It wasn't very interesting, but it was something he supposed. After all, Y/N loved it. Gaara looked around and saw no one nearby, meaning now would be a great time to react. He silently tip toed over to Y/N, using trees to cover himself. However, Y/N spotted him when she looked around the area in case there was anyone nearby (after all, she was being loud and who knows who lived in the area).

"Hmm? Hi, you there!" She said, waving her hand towards that silhouette behind that tree. Gaara'a face turned into one of the confusion, his "eyebrows" furrowing. Why isn't she scared of someone creeping up behind her in the woods? "Sorry if I'm bothering you! I just wanted to see what's it's like here at night. I can leave if you want," she said, swaying her body back and forth.

"...No, it's quite alright," Gaara replied as he stepped from behind the trees. He walked up the her, and instantly Y/N recognized him. She gasped, surprised.

"I remember you! You're the one that saved me! Thank you so much!" She giggled, clasping her hands together and bowing deeply. "My deepest thanks." Gaara paused, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit.

"My heart is pounding," he mumbled allowed, pressing his hand against his chest. "What have you done to me?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Y/N stood up straight, giving him a questioning hum in return. Her face looked so innocent and sweet; it's all apart of that facade, isn't it? Gaara growled, roughly grabbing Y/N's shoulders and pulling her close. She jumped, gasping a little at the sudden action. "I said, what did you do to me? Where did this hellfire come from, you witch!" His voice went from his normal calm tone to a scream instantly.

Y/N's eyes widened and her body started to shiver a little. She furrowed her eyebrows together, stuttering out a reply. "I-I don't understand..." That answer wasn't good enough for Gaara as he had no problem throwing her to the ground and looming over her with a look of anger across his facial features. His fist was clenched so tight that his veins were showing. "I don't know what you're talking about!" Y/N yelled out fearfully, covering her face. Tears began to swell in her eyes and her voice became shakey.

Sand began to pour out from behind him and his heart ate picked up again. That flame in his heart was so strong and terrifying to Gaara that he was okay with killing the girl he fell in love with right then and now. His body was so scared that it wanted to kill her, but his heart was too scared to rid such a wonderful girl from the world forever. "Tell me, witch. What did... you do?" He asked again, staring at her so intensely that she could feel his eyes burning into her skin. She sniffed, now too scared to reply upon seeing that sand loom over her.

After a few moments, he screamed, "tell me!" Y/N chocked up on tears, taking a deep breath before replying.

"I don't know any magic or special jutsus, sir! I didn't do anything to you!" She cried out, slowly sitting up. "I'm sorry!" Gaara hissed, silent for a couple minutes. In that time, Gaara remained still as Y/N slowly began to stand up. In her mind, she was recalling words her mom once spoke to her about dangerous people. People are born innocent and harmless and only bad environments or situations can taint their purity. With that in mind, Y/N assumed that Gaara had problems that she couldn't understand. And with a heart as pure as her's, she had already forgave Gaara for scaring her and already felt sympathy for him. She slowly walked closer to him, the hairs on her neck standing up with anxiety, and put an arm on his shoulder.

That touch made him snatch back to reality. He slowly put his hand on top of her's; he was so confused and overwhelmed with opposing emotion and thought. "Then why? Why do you make me feel this way?" He asked in a low rough voice. Y/N began to wrap her arms around him and then hug him softly, shutting her eyes tightly. She managed to push her worried back as she found giving this sad, sad man affection was more important. Gaara felt his chest grow warm again and suddenly, she chuckled.

"I think your hellfire consumed me. I can't even find it in myself to kill you anymore, witch. I think I'm in love with you," he said, blinking away tears. He was so scared and his body pained to kill her, but he just couldn't. He was so overwhelmed with the pleasant feeling of Y/N arms being around him to ever lay a finger on her in anger. Instead he just hugged her back tightly, stuffing his face into the crook of her neck and sniffing. He was obviously holding back tears, which didn't work very well. Afterall, for the first time in forever, he felt like he could show a little bit of a soft side.

"You're gonna control me, aren't you? Use my feelings against me and bend me to your will? You're so cruel, even with the face of an angel." Y/N hummed, not understanding his comments. She just sighed, hugging him tighter and opening her eyes.

"Hey, Gaara, isn't it? Why don't we spend time out here tomorrow? I'd like to get to know you better."

Gaara grunted in response, closing his eyes and wiping his tears with on arm, keeping his other arm tightly around her smaller form. Yeah, whatever hellfire he feels has completely consumed him before he could stop it.

Lol sorry this written to bad!

[filthfix]

Anything - skz

Pairing: Reader x Ot8

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: Birthday sex, turn taking, sloppy 2-7, creampie, cum kink/cum eating/cum covering, neck biting, voyeurism, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, “good girl”, unprotected

Summary: It’s Jeongins birthday and he wants to run a train 😶

A/N: I almost named this ‘All In’... 💀 anyways uhhhh happy birthday Jeongin here’s some absolute filth <3

Four days before Jeongin’s Birthday

Chan throws himself on the couch next to Jeongin whose preoccupied with his phone.

“So.. what do you want for your birthday? I can get you anything.”

He’s being his usual playful self, nudging and pinching at Jeongin earning a light whine of acknowledgment from him. He doesn’t look up from his phone but he stopped scrolling, thinking it over quickly before lowering his phone with a soft click.

“Anything?”

“Yep, name it!”

Chan nods feeling confident.

“I wanna share with you guys”

He says it plainly and at first Chan’s confused tilting his head to the side but then raising an eyebrow when it finally clicks. They all had a brief drunken conversation some time ago about something along those lines and it quickly became an unspoken agreement that they’d make it happen eventually with Jeongin seemed the most interested in it.

“I think I can set that up.” He smirks and pats Jeongin’s leg before getting up and leaving the room.

2 days before Jeongin’s birthday

Your phone rings on your walk around town and you pull it out to see Chan’s ID take up the screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” You answer

There’s hesitation in the air before he speaks

“Are you alone by any chance?”

“Uh”

You look around before crossing a small street

“Yeah, I guess?”

It’s probably as alone as you could be in the middle of town.

“Jeongin’s birthday’s coming up and we were wondering if you could help us with something.”

“Yeah, sure, anything.”

“Uh.. you might want to hold off on saying anything until you hear what I’m asking for”

“What? You gonna ask me to steal for him or something?”

You laugh

“Well, No.. he wants to try something...”

His voice trails off

“Something?” You push

“... are you familiar with the term ‘running a train’ ”

The way he says it mimicked ripping a bandaid off and it stops you dead in your tracks.

“Huh?”

You’re completely thrown off and at first you thought you heard him wrong but he’s quick to confirm it again.

“Yeah.. you won’t have to do any real work, It’s just us all getting off together. You can lay back and relax and we’ll take good care of you.”

“Uh? All? Is this a joke?”

You notice an empty bench up ahead and move the conversation over there, dropping yourself on it haphazardly.

“It’s not.. I’m being serious” he laughs sheepishly

This isn’t something you ever thought would come up and a part of you is afraid to even think about this seriously.. but.. you are the type to want to try everything at least once. This could be your only chance for something like this and they’re probably the best option, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a bit interested. The more your mind paints a picture the more the little slut on your shoulder begs and without a second pause you agree.

“I’ll do it..”

“Really? Are you sure? If you want time to think about it let me know, I’d want you to be absolutely sure and okay with this.”

He sounds genuinely surprised

“I’m sure, I did say anything.”

Chan laughs and you have to bite you bottom lip to hold back the smile forming.

“Okay..” you can practically hear his smile “I’ll text you later about it.”

With that he hangs up and you let out the breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You throw your head back and bring your hands up, brushing them over your hair. You feel dumbfounded and oddly excited with a million questions running through your mind. Was this a bad idea? Are you going to regret it? The relationship you have with them will definitely change.. without a doubt. They could of asked anyone else too? But why you? Are you even ready? All eight of them??????

The realization of what you’ve just done and are about to do hits you hard and you decide to abandon your original plans for the day and go back home to process this. You huff and jump off the bench, turning quick on your heels in the direction of your house.

Jeongin’s Birthday

Your minds been foggy for the last two days, a lot of alone time and a lot of texting Chan. He’d given you the details of how the night would go and washed away any worries you might of had. He even shared how they all (mainly the younger ones) argued over who was going after who which made you laugh and feel a lot more lighthearted towards the whole thing.

You threw on your favorite underwear set and some comfy clothes right over it. Since it’ll just be tossed to the side you don’t bother thinking too much on it and just check over yourself one last time in the mirror before you’re out the door to their place. 

Reminding yourself that

It’s for Jeongins birthday

-

Once you’re there, Chan’s the one to let you in greeting you with a warm hug. Behind him is Jisung and Hyunjin focused on a quiet conversation between themselves that they break only for a second to throw a wave your way. Chan points between the two, chuckling.

“They’re still not over the order.”

You smile and shake your head at their usual behavior. Chan then puts a hand on the small of your back and ushers you past them to one of the rooms. You’d been over plenty of times before so you’re familiar with the set up and feel pretty calm despite the promise of getting railed but multiple men tonight.

In the room you’re greeted by the rest of them all scattered around and hanging out like they normally do. Jeongin’s seated near a desk and he’s the first one you approach and pull into a hug.

“Happy 20th Birthday.” you coo in his ear

He thanks you with a giggle and tightens the hug. As you pull away your scent lingers and he realizes just how fond he is of you. His face is red and warm but you don’t notice since your attentions drawn to the door, Hyunjin and Jisung finally join the room looking content.

“We’ve decided”

“Okay then..” Chan gives a patronizing snort and then turns towards you with a warm smile

“Whenever you’re ready”

It all seemed to go by so fast from that

He waves to the bed, Felix and Changbin who had been laying on it get up and your feet automatically move towards it feeling all their eyes follow you. You crawl onto the bed and sit on your knees facing them. Chan said all you had to do to tell them you were ready was to get undressed. Your hands held the bottom of your shirt about to lift it. Tentatively, you give one last glance around the room before slipping off each and every item you had on and letting them fall to the floor next to the bed.

Once that last piece is off you hear a sharp inhale from Minho whose hooded eyes rake over your body. You feel awkward at first but having all their eyes on you, bare and waiting for them, satisfies some weird fantasy you weren’t aware of just yet.

Chans the first to make a move towards you, lightly pushing you to lean back on the bed. He hovers over you, one of his hands resting next to your head and the other grabbing your hand and snaking it under his shirt tracing them along his abs. His eyes are locked on yours and when your arousal becoming noticeable he backs up and strips off his clothes to his boxers.

Your eyes glaze over when you take in his body and the growing print on him. He watches you with a hungry expression and settles in between your legs. He licks his thumb and softly presses it to your clit earnings a low moan from you. He rubs slow circles until the confines of his boxers become unbearable and your mewls intensify.

He grabs at his waistband and frees himself in one move. With a few slow strokes down the length of his cock he’s lining himself up with you. You feel him against your folds warm and throbbing and you eagerly move towards him, shuddering when he slips all the way in.

“A-ahh” he gasps

He starts a steady pace, hands gripping at your thighs. Your expressions urge him on and he picks up the pace craving more of your body. You could already feel yourself ready to cum but hold back to enjoy the straight bliss as he slides against your walls. You squeeze around him and he groans in response dropping his hands from your thighs and letting them fall on either sides of your head, this position letting him reach deeper. He mutters endless praises of how glad he is that you said yes and how he wanted this just as much.

The stutter of his hips before he pulls out and cums right over your pussy is what sends you off the edge. You cover your face as each wave hits over and over. Sneaking a peak to the side through blurry eyes you watch Chan put himself away and breathlessly join the others on the wall. Each looking lust blown, hungry, and ready to pounce. You noticed a few palming themselves and shifting in their spots before you attention was stolen by Changbin.

He’s aggressive straight away biting at your exposed neck. You yelp once and then twice when you feel his fingers graze your still sensitive clit. He’s moving between your folds collecting your slickness and Chan’s cum. When he pulls away to coat his cock with it you look at him. He didn’t bother to undress all the way, just enough to let his frustration free. He lifts up his muscle tee slightly letting you catch a glimpse of his abs before he fills you up. He’s thicker than Chan and you feel every bit of the stretch.

“Go ahead make eye contact with them”

He growls, giving a cocky smirk and starting up at a rapid speed. Your head falling to the side involuntary and you catch a glimpse of all of them. You notice Jeongin first, still seated at the desk, bouncing his leg and gripping at his seat a little too tight. His face is fully red and you can hear slight pants coming from him.

When Changbin gives a particularly harsh stroke your attention shifts to Jisung seated on the floor next to the desk. He’s long discarded his clothes and has been jerking away at himself. You catch him stop abruptly and throw his head back, eyebrows furrowed and dick twitching as he clearly tries to hold himself back. Your highs already at its brink again when you lock eyes with Minho whose eyes are filled with the same devilish glare as before.

“Cum” he mouths and you do, probably the hardest you ever came but Changbin doesn’t let up. His hips rocking back and forth harder and harder. Your uncontrollable and overstimulated moans filling the room.

“Look at me”

He demands and you do as he says through now teary eyes. His eyes were as menacing as his strokes were and he give you two last deep pumps before spilling every drop in you.

“Good girl”

He backs out and with satisfaction watches your legs starting to shake. Hyunjin with his bottom lip between his teeth tags in next. He’s shirtless and his pants are tight. He immediately has his hands on your body sensually rubbing up and down your waist. You brace yourself thinking he’d immediately get to it and be just as aggressive but instead he chooses a softer approach.

“Are you feeling good?”

His silky voice asks as his hands stops just about your thighs giving you a light squeeze. You dazedly nod and he smiles.

“You’re doing so well for us.”

You only hum as he takes in your fucked out expression. He’s as playful as ever kneading at your thigh with one hand and unbuckling his self with the other. Once free he taps and slides against your hole collecting the cum leaking out of you and getting ready to push it back in.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“P-please” you purr and he easily glides in.

He’s longer but definitely thinner than the last two and choses a slower more rhythmic pace with you, which was nice and needed following Changbins aggressive assault. He slow fucks the cum into you savoring every pulse and grip of your walls over him. It takes a second for you to cum again this time in small bursts and Hyunjin exhales in approval, taking a small break after you ride your high all the way through to whisper praises and grip at your body.

When you move your hips down to signal him to keep going he meets it with a snap drawing moans from both of you simultaneously. This round his thrusts are more heated and feverish. You’re caught up in watching the way Hyunjins hair falls into his face to notice Jisung approach. Stroking himself over your chest.

“Mmm, wait for me.”

Hyunjin murmurs and Jisung just nods. You’re curious but your second high from him approaches too closely to get to question it. The coil threatens to snap and right as you’re about to let it Hyunjin pulls out prompting a whimper in protest. He strokes himself over you nodding at Jisung before painting your pussy in his hot seed. Jisung follows shortly after shuddering and spilling right over your chest.

Jisung then eagerly trades with Hyunjin his eyes glued to your cum covered body. He quickly aligns himself and slips in with a high whine. He falls on his hands and relentlessly thrusts into you fucking you like a rabid rabbit, the curve of him hitting all the right spots. He watches you bounce and moan under him with his bottom lip tightly bitten. The snugness of you and his already sensitive dick has him struggling to stay up and he doesn’t know how much longer he has before he busts again.

Luckily for you, he’s finishing off exactly where Hyunjin left off and you cum instantly squeezing around Jisung and milking him of his second orgasm in the process. Jisung practically falls to his knees and it takes every last bit of strength to pull away from you. At this point you’ve already lost count of how many times you’ve came and you’re just barely done with them. You start to relax into the bed breathing heavy and feeling fully spent when Minho comes up and taps on your thigh.

“Hopefully you’re not too tired to play with me”

He chuckles and passes a finger against your clit making you jolt. He collects the cum from you, bringing it up to his lips and licking it clean before closing your legs and roughly moving them to the side. He’s familiar with this kind of game and loves when they’re already this far gone when he gets to them. Easier to mold and easier to break. You’re clenching around nothing as he unbuckles and lines himself up. 

He pushes in all the way feeling pure ecstasy as you cry out. He hastily picks up the pace while pressing your thighs down together making you even tighter on him. You could feel him at the pit of your stomach making the joke of getting your guts rearranged seem all too real now.

This is overkill

Invades your mind when another orgasm hits you leaving your vision white. Minho takes this as his que to hit harder and quicker until your mouth is full of his name. It felt like hours of him relentlessly pounding into your overly sensitive cunt before he nuts in you with a grunt.

You feel so full and unable to move, molded into a true fuck doll for them at this point. Minho pulls out cleaning off his dick and uses you as a towel then leaves you without saying anything else. He pats Felix on the back before pushing him towards you. Felix looks star struck and you’re now needier than ever. Making it obvious by spreading your legs for him and rubbing at yourself with one hand, the other messing with the cum on your chest.

He whispers something inaudible and yanks off his clothes. Grabbing you by the waist to push you further up the bed so he could climb in right after. He’s clumsy and slips trying to find your hole and you have to guide him in.

His strokes are sloppy right away, either overly excited or new to this and it was barely hitting the right spots. You decide to help him out and grind back against him meeting each stroke. He stills automatically letting you take over, his face bright red and focused on where you and him meet. You move faster and mutter his name until you hit your peak.

“Y/N,” he gasps “C-can I cum on your face?”

Cloudy minded but still surprised by his dirty request you nod and he quickly moves to your side. His hands move fast up and down the length of his dick right over your face. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue bracing yourself for your reward. A slew of curse words leave his mouth before your face gets warm with his spunk.

You wipe the bit that covered your eyes so you could see again and popped that on your tongue keeping eye contact with Felix as you swallow, noticing the way he practically melts from it.

Begrudgingly, Felix gets up and Seungmin, whose been quiet this whole time, joins in his usual bright smile on his face.

“Poor baby,” He mocks “Tired, huh?”

You’re too incoherent to respond and he’s well aware of that. He laughs and massages your legs making sure you’re okay.

“Please” you beg

“What was that?”

All you could do is point at the tent in his pants and his eyebrows raise. He shrugs and starts to undress. He’s not one to hold back after all.

“You sure you can take this?”

He doesn’t even let you answer just buries his cock in you and waits. You grow frustrated thinking you were finally gonna get what you wanted just to be teased instead. You take matters into your own hand again and lift yourself up then slide back down onto him throwing your head back when he hits the spot. Seungmin shakes his head and lands a hand on your hip gripping you so you can’t move again.

He hums in an almost condescending way.

“Still needy? Or have you been fucked so dumb that this all you know now?”

He tilts his head as you whimper under him. All you seem to be able to do is pant in protest. You feel him twitch inside of you and your eyes squeeze shut at the slight friction from it.

“Can’t even answer.. tsk I think it’s obvious which one you are.”

He finally gives in and moves, slow and meticulously.

“You’re doing so well”

He pants

“And I thought I’d give you a second to catch your breath”

His thrusts get sharper and leave you gasping

“But if it’s not what you want...”

He speeds up

“..who am I to deny”

His fingers snake over to your clit and rubbing rough circles into it in time with the motion of his hips.

“So good”

Just like that you unravel with a loud groan

“Dummy.. couldn’t even wait for me?”

He laughs and pulls out a little too quickly leaving you with an feeling empty. He jerks off over your body drinking in the way you lay like a broken toy. It doesn’t take long for him to finish across your thighs and you thank him relentlessly.

He shakes his head

“No, no, baby”

“Thank you for letting us use your body like this”

In a blink, he’s gone and in his place was Jeongin with his pretty dick in hand.

“I wanna fuck their cum into you”

“So badly”

His voice is dripping in desire. He presses his red and angry tip to your folds collecting the cum and coating himself with as much of it as he can. Once he’s pleased he asks for the okay which you give him without hesitation. He bottoms out instantly digging his nails into your body at the same time. The urge to bust right then and there washes over him but he’s waited too long to be out already. He holds back for a few seconds till he adjusts before rutting into you. You hadn’t expected the level of precision that came from him and cry out as he fucks you raw.

“Hyunjin”

Jeongin chokes out

“Kiss”

He nods at you and Hyunjin without a second of doubt complies lightly shuffling over to where you lay. He leans over kissing you softly on the lips you lean in deepening it. When he pulls away you notice traces of cum left on his lips and he licks it away before winking at you and stepping back.

It takes a few more drags of his dick across you velvet walls for you both to cry out in one last orgasm. You could feel tears fall from your eyes and Jeongin’s quick to wipe them away. He then sits back on his knees with a sigh his now flaccid dick slipping out. He then topples over beside you followed by almost all of them who then coddle and whispering praises at you. 

Seungmin whose reaching for the door laughs.

“I’ll go grab a wash rag”

“And you know.. if you ever wanna do this again I, at least, wouldn't mind.” Jisung quips with a wink as he trails behind Seungmin with snacks in mind. You’re about ready to pass out but manage to laugh and shake your head over the hyper every day every situation demeanor Jisung carried.

[wenellyb]

My journey in the MCU fandom on Tumblr: Sharing my thoughts on the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, racism in the MCU fandom and the best and the worse of the fandom

I wasn’t going to write this much but here I am… I don’t even know where I’m going with this but since The Falcon and the Winter Soldier just recently came out, I wanted to share some thoughts.

I joined Tumble because of a show I loved but most of you don’t know it “ Hit the Floor”

I stayed on Tumblr for two reasons only, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan.

Before the Captain America:Civil War premiere, a friend sent me the link to the Sebastian and Anthony ET interview, and I was hooked. In just one interview. I discovered Anthony Mackie. The guy was hilarious!!! I just couldn’t get enough and I knew I had to know more about him. How could he improvise so many funny lines on the spot? He was just amazing.

I had pretty much watched all the avengers movie but that was it. I was not involved in the fandom. So I knew Sam Wilson’s face, but I couldn’t even remember his name if my life depended on it. That’s how much the MCU treated him as a side character.

I was like how the f*ck don’t I know this guy?

His talent reminded me of Eddie Murphy, Jim Carrey or Robin Williams, like yes they can make some emotional or serious movies, but when they want to make you laugh, you will laugh. Whether you want it or not.  I kept wondering how this guy wasn’t more famous.

And the banter with Sebastian Stan? Wow, you could tell their friendship was strong, the way Sebastian lighted up when Anthony was talking, and keep bouncing off his jokes. It was art. the way Sebastian said “ I love you” at the end of the interview. Pure gold.

I then started to watch some of the interviews and boy was that a mistake!!! I literally couldn’t get enough. So I watched all and I say all their interviews, it was the best. We got some gems:

“Why aren’t you looking at me as much”

“Which way is the beach Seabass”

*Them saying nonsense in Spanish and then Sebastian Saying Papi Chulo*

 ¨And so many more, ....

I watched other solo Anthony interviews and he was still HILARIOUS, but you could also tell he felt a little bit more at ease with Sebastian around. I won’t pretend I know him or his personality, but Sebastian seems like a little bit more of an introvert and looks like he doesn’t enjoy the interview experience unless Anthony id around him. Just my thoughts

I watched the interviews before I went to see the movie, I even cosplayed as the Winter Soldier to the movie premiere and I was IN!!! When I saw Captain America Civil War, I became a SamBucky shipper, these two were hilarious and I really so the potential for a great realtionship I love enemy to lovers stories.

I also shipped Stucky because, to me, the trope of the movie was Superhero gives up everything to protect his long term friend” Hollywood movies have some codes and if Bucky were a female character, there is no doubt in my mind that the movie would have been marketed as romance.

Stucky really was an easy ship! But then the MCU fandom of Tumblr fandom messed up everything for me. You see I really liked the CACW and I I liked Stucky, I liked Sambucky, and I loved the introduction of t’Challa’s character, but one of things that affected me the most in the movie was that it was the first blockbuster I watched with 3 black main characters, Rhodey, Sam and T’Challa. That, and the fact that they were planning to realease a Black Panther movie in two years, I was super excited, and that’s the main reason I got involved in the MCU fandom so much, when before, I was just a casual watcher.

If this seem weird to you, then you have no idea how we were only getting crumbs before. For me it was soo huge, I even told all my friends, and they were laughing at me. But usually blockbusters, especially superhero movies get one black character and that’s it, usually the best friend or something and never the leads. So, for me it really was a big deal. How sad is that by the way…

I became more involved in the fandom and, at first, I wasn’t focusing on anything special, Sambucky, Stucky, Stackie, the Black Panther, and even Zemo, whose character I really liked.

But soon I noticed that the CACW tags were always flooded, and I mean flooded with the same two white characters: Steve and Bucky. I told myself, ok that’s fine Steve is the lead after all, but it would be good to see the other characters too.

And then I noticed another interesting trend: Evanstan…. Wait what?

Chris Evans, and Sebastian Stan… did I miss something? Listen, obviously I’m sure they must be friends or something, but you’re going to tell me you watch all MCU the actors and you’re going to focus on Steve and Sebastian? I’m sorry what?

Sebastian and Anthony are right there… Or Chris and Anthony, they even have a secret handshake, only the 2 of them do… what more do you want?

Tell me one iconic Evanstan moment… go ahead tell me… See??? There isn’t.

Because of this and because of how badly some Stuckies were treating Sam and Anthony. I became less and less of a stucky shipper . I mainly focused on SamBucky, Stackie and the Black Panther,

And then the Sebastian Stan stans saw how popular Stackie, Sambucky, were becoming and I started to see some problematic stuff in our fandom too.

I don’t want to generalize, but when you go into the Stackie tag, and you see cropped pictures of Sebastian without Anthony, it’s easy to assume that a Sebastian fan did that. And we know damn well you cropped out Anthony because we watched all Stackie interviews and know exactly which interview your picture was taken from. We know that Anthony was sitting right next to Seb.

You post a picture of Sebastian laughing but you crop out the person who was making him laugh??

“but it has nothing to do with race” How do you know that?

“Sebastian had more screen time” More screen time than Anthony in CATWS or CACW? I don’t think so.

“I have been a fan of Sebastian for longer”, that’s fine but don’t go out cropping Anthony, just post gifs of Seb in his usual, sad, and Anthony-less interviews, not the ones where he’s smiling because his best friend is next to him.

Some of you really are the worst. And just so you know, your fave Sebastian is Anthony’s biggest fan, if he saw pictures where you cropped out Anthony, he would block you on the spot.

When I realized that Anthony Mackie would be the next Captain America I was screaming, no actually, I was crying, Sam Wilson will be Captain America, and Anthony would finally get the recognition he deserves.

You would think that the MCU fandom would focus on Captain America or at least one the two leads, instead of just Sebastian? Right? Right? WRONG.

Anthony is handsome, he’s funny, he’s a great actor, he went to freaking Julliard, he’s at the top, I don’t see what else the man can do??? He should already be a superstar, but no, you will side-line him even to he is the lead of the show.

Even when they are the actual leads, you guys would do anything to bring up the White characters even if it means ignoring the Black characters.

I remember I was having a conversation about Black Panther with my friends and I asked one of my white friends who was his favorite character in BP was and he told me Martin Freeman (don’t even remember his name in the movie) Martin Freaking Freeman, there are half a dozen of great characters and your fave is the only white man??? Ok, ok, that’s great.

Don’t give out automatic reply like “It has nothing to do with race, if you haven’t thought about it first”, because there’s a high probability that it is indeed about race. Stop saying it isn’t, sit down and ask yourself, “Am I biased?” “Why am I reblogging only stuff related to the white characters”.

One of these days you guys are going to make me hate Sebastian with the sh*t you are pulling.

I looove the Stackie friendship and the Sambucky dynamic but after seeing the way some of you treat Anthony and Sam’s character, it make me want to focus on Sam’s character and forget about the rest.

 I remember they were some posts about how Anthony was problematic, and I just lost it. Apparently, there was an old article that resurfaced were Anthony was making a joke about women making sandwiches or something.

If you were offended by the sandwich joke, that is totally ok, and I can understand that.

But if you were offended by the sandwich joke, and saying Anthony is problematic BUT you still stan Chris Evans, Jeremy Renner, ScarJo or even Sebastian Stan, just know that there is a high probability you’re racist.

They have all said or done problematic stuff, and people only seem to remember stuff related to Anthony, which was probably just a joke by the way.

Chris Evans and Jeremy called Black widow a wh*re, ScarJo took roles that she maybe shouldn’t have and I didn’t forget Sebastian shady Instagram post, when Kaepernick was kneeling. There are so many more things to be said about Jeremy Renner but google is your friend.

Anthony also got hate for hating on Tom Holland? Like what? Do you guys even hear yourselves? Don’t you have any friends you like to tease? If you hate someone, do you go around talking about him every chance you get? It was obviously friendly banter but some people wanted to turn it into something it was not. Sigh.

I really cannot with this fandom

 The stackie fandom was small at the beginning and the Sambucky fandom even smaller, but we were there and it was amazing. Sebastian and Anthony received the same amount of love from the fandom and I wish we could go back to those days.

Stop pretending the fandom isn’t racist. Stop saying “it isn’t about race” when you haven’t even thought about.

Saying “it has nothing to do with race” only shows that you haven’t thought about anything but don’t want to be called a racist.

There is racism in this fandom and it will always be there, but if you guys want to do anything about it, you have to acknowledge it first.

You can’t be pulling off stuff like “I don’t see colors”, “ it has nothing to do with race”. Stop, sit down, think about it and then we can have a conversation.

If you’ve made it till the end, I apologize for the typos and grammar mistakes, I wasn’t planning on writing this much.

[writing-in-april]

Party Play

Chip Taylor x Female Reader

Summary: After Reader gets Chip to voice one of his deepest desires Reader takes him to a play party Reader’s friend hosts.

A/N: This low key feels like the filthiest thing I’ve ever written 😂 This Chip fic is my ninth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April event! This was the original request- I kinda ran with it lol- i was also unable to get this fic beta’d so forgive me for any mistakes I missed 🙈I’ve been curious as to what has been y’all’s favorite so far- feel free to drop it in my ask box here. Hope y’all enjoy this one 😏 I know I did lol 😂 Thanks for reading ☺️

Warnings 18+, Smut, This all happens at a play party, Sub Chip, Chip in a skirt and panties, Chip in a Collar and Leash, Thigh riding, Hand job, Oral sex (F and M receiving), References to suspension play (they don’t participate and move on), Unprotected sex, Hinted at sex with multiple partners

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.7k

Chip had never had much luck when it came to girls. Sure he had girls flocking around him wherever he went, but any type of relationship with them had always turned into a disaster.

After the whole business with Liza Chip had sworn off girls, and any other type of long term romantic relationships for a good long while. People of all ages would still hit on him of course, that time an older woman had pinched his ass while behind him in line to check out at the grocery store still made him blush.

It had been around 3 years when someone had contested and eventually got him to break his promise to swear off any type of romantic connection. You had come in like a storm, turning his whole life upside down. Unlike with Liza he didn't mind when you came through to turn it upside down because instead of ruining it you had begun to put the prices back in place.

Your relationship hadn’t been a whirlwind romance, you turned everything upside down slowly and carefully. Each piece that was put back into place was given all the time that it needed to settle back in its place. Chip still got whiplash from the whole experience, any pure affection given without motive was an entirely foreign concept to him.

Sex had been one of the biggest obstacles in your relationship. He had wanted to wait until he felt like he could implicitly trust you with anything. Even after you had both gotten to that point Chip had wanted to wait a little longer as he still had trouble with flashbacks of his bad experiences with sex, most of them involving Liza. Not that you minded at all, you were there for the long haul. You wanted Chip to be completely comfortable with the idea of having sex before you took that step forward. Even when the two of you had an intense make out session with you straddling him you checked in on him at every new turn. It would be a nightmare to you if you ever even made him feel an ounce of uncomfortableness.

When you had eventually gotten to your first time you had made sure it was sweet and slow, giving him an experience he had never had before. Each time you had sex since then even though it had developed into something a little less than vanilla (that was an understatement), you made sure Chip was cared for, always.

Today you had both agreed on doing something that Chip had never gotten to experience before. He had felt too afraid to tell Liza and had been too shy to tell you until you pried it out of him with some light teasing, with a bit of love of course.

While he had been moaning underneath you had been goading him while rolling your hips, “Come on- tell me what you’ve been thinking about, baby boy.”

In a breathy whine he then broke down and admitted, “W-want to go- to one of those parties your friend hosts!”

A smirk had been evident on your face then, you knew exactly what he had been referring to. One of your closest friends often hosted play parties every month. Chip had found out about them when your friend had come over one day and had casually mentioned it. The thought of going to one with you must have been stuck in his mind ever since that day. You sped up the slow pace you had started with and had promised him, “Alright- I’ll take you to one. You’ll have to be on your best behavior, baby boy.”

—-

Now that the day had come Chip was antsy, you could tell. He hadn’t had a job to go and work on today, instead opting to cling to you as you did your own work on your computer. You let him sit on your lap while you worked even though it was slightly awkward with his lanky limbs.

His clinginess had made you nervous, wondering if he didn’t want to go anymore. You carded your hands through his hair, fingers catching on a few knots as you soothed him. Making sure you were done with the last bit of your work for the day you closed the laptop. then you broke the silence that had been between you both while you had been working, “Do you not want to go? No matter what your answer is I won’t be mad, I promise.”

“No no no no-I do I promise!” He squeaked out and sat up rigidly, “Just a little nervous- the good type of nervous.”

“Alright- I’ll take your word for it pretty boy.” You leaned forward to whisper. There was no one around you both right now, no need to whisper, but Chip always shivered a little when you spoke to him like this, “Speaking of you being pretty, I think it’s about time to get you dressed up pretty as well.”

You wanted to look pretty for this event of course, you also wanted to dress Chip up as well. For yourself you had chosen a simple black dress that was hiding a set underneath in matching black as well. For Chip you had picked out a much more revealing outfit. He’d be hiding this all under a coat at first, but once you both entered the house you’d make him reveal what was underneath.

You got him dressed in a black skirt, with matching black panties underneath. That would be all he’d be wearing to cover himself besides his coat and combat boots, which he’d be shedding at the door. For an accessory you had brought out his collar and leash, also black in color (what can you say? You like black).

Once he was all dressed up and pretty you stood back to admire your work while he sat on the bed obediently. He withered a bit in shyness underneath your gaze, but when you cocked your eyebrows up in question he went right back to his original position.

“You stay right there looking pretty while I get ready.” Leaving no room for defiance you then left to get the outfit you had picked out for yourself. After you came back you slipped out of your clothes, standing naked in front of him before then getting your lingerie on as slow as you could, just to tease him. When you covered up your lingerie with the black dress on top and slipped on some platform heels he whimpered. Your response to the whimper was quick and biting, “Don’t complain, you’ll get to see it later if you’re good. Now help me zip up my dress.”

That made him quiet quickly, obediently helping you zip up the dress, hiding anything underneath out of sight until he was good. He continued his obedience when you had gotten your things ready and got into the car, already getting into his submissive state. He only made any noise on the car ride there when you asked him a question.

You had gone before to one of your friend’s parties with a previous partner, the one before Chip. Their house was huge, with multiple guest bedrooms plus some other rooms converted so people could play in them. Each room that was occupied had a sheet pinned up on the wall beside it listing all the things that would entail if you walked in through the door, plus hard limits set by the person running the room. If you wanted to join in, you’d write your names down and whether or not you were there to watch or join in. If you wanted to leave for any reason, you could with no questions asked and if the person running the room asked you to leave, you had to with no fight. There was something for everybody.

Some of the guest rooms had an occupancy limit, some had a small limit of how many people could join and some could allow a large group of people. Even before you could go up to the rooms you had to go through a coat check where you also confirmed who you were. Every person in the house had to bring ID and be on the list approved by your friend.

“Are you nervous?” You asked Chip quietly after you had handed the person at coat check your ID’s.

His cheeks flushed red at your question, shifting from side to side on his feet. You could tell that he was feeling exposed in his outfit, like you had intended. But, you had wanted to check in one more time before fully entering, wanting him to be flustered, not uncomfortable. You breathed a little sigh of relief when he answered in a small voice, “In a good way.”

“Good.”

It was silent between you two for a minute until the person came back with your IDs. When you were let loose and told to enjoy the party you wrapped one of your hands around the end of his leash to beckon him to follow you.

After the coat check and down a small hallway there was the living room connected with the kitchen in an open floor plan. People were mingling about, having light conversation with some people perhaps deciding if they wanted to pull them up into a room with them.

When you spotted your friend, who was hosting this at their home, you walked up to them while pulling Chip along.

“Hey! How are you?” Your friend greeted you once they were done with their previous conversation with another guest. Chip waited patiently and quietly while you both caught up with each other. You had set some rules before you had gone to the party, he wasn’t allowed to speak unless you asked him something directly or allowed him to speak to someone else. He slowly flushed a deeper shade of red as you both kept having a conversation, not acknowledging him standing there in practically nothing. Your friend then eyed Chip up and down after you had concluded telling them about your last work trip, “Well, I won’t keep you both any longer, enjoy the rooms.”

You gave your friend a thanks, pulling Chip along behind you towards the stairs that led to the guest bedrooms. The hallway of guest rooms was to your right after you made it to the top of the stairs. Loud moans from all the rooms were easily heard despite all the doors being shut tight.

You looked at the first sheet next to the first room, seeing if you both might be interested in this room. Other people around you were doing the same, some couples and some single people looking at each sheet down the hall. Once you had read over the hard limits of the room you decided that Chip might like this one. The rooms closer to the stairs were often the tamer ones, building up slowly to the last room, which was the largest and usually held the most people.

“I think you might like this one.” You said simply, then opening the door to let him have a look before you wrote both of your names down. Most of the people in here were watching the couple in the center, a woman being fucked from behind while her partner pulled her hair to arch her back.

His eyes were glistening and wide as he looked through the door to see if he’d be interested in this first room.

“I-I’d like to go in this one please.” His request was meek, you let it slide this time as you knew he was still nervous. After you had written down your names you entered, greeting the person running the room before sitting down at the closest armchair to the door. You wanted to sit closest to the door so you could bring Chip out in case he got uncomfortable.

You had Chip sit perched on your lap while he watched with wide eyes at the couple in the center. He also occasionally looked over to the people on the side touching themselves while watching. You let him get comfortable for a while before enacting your plan.

While he watched, his eyes still trained on the sight in front of him, you started to trail your hand upwards to go underneath the skirt he was wearing. The pair of panties you had him wear were already straining because of how hard his cock was. Cupping him through his panties you began to stroke him through them, not yet taking him out of them, that was for later.

“No, you don’t get to make a noise, not yet.” You commanded quietly when he opened his mouth out to moan after you had been stroking him for a while. He looked down at you with glistening eyes begging you to let him do something. You tugged his leash with your free hand to bring his face down to yours, “You can grind your hips on your thigh if you want to, but nothing else. You’ve got to earn more than that baby boy.”

He looked like he wanted to protest, but decided instead to take what he was given. Notching one of your thighs right between his you then began to stroke him again. He then began to grind down onto your thigh, taking what little you had given and running with it.

He kept quiet as he rode your thigh, not willing to break your rules today, he wanted a reward. He was careful to not put too much pressure as he swiveled his hips, just enough to push him closer to the edge along with your hand stroking him. His eyes were still trained in front of him at the couple who had now switched positions to have the woman riding her partner. When he got close to the edge, his hips bucking harder against yours desperately you stopped moving your hand. You also grabbed his hips so he would stop grinding against you. When he dared to begin to protest you yanked his leash again, your lips so close they were practically touching.

“No you don’t get to cum yet, we’ve got so many more rooms to look at.” When you revealed your plan Chip whined indignantly, which got him a slap on his inner thigh, “Don’t complain or I won’t let you finish at all tonight. Be a good boy for me?”

He nodded while biting his lip, his hair mussed up from you running your hands through it and tugging just the way he liked it. You didn’t let him linger any longer in the room, getting up to leave the room and pulling Chip along with you. He had already looked intrigued every time you had both walked into a new room, wide eyed and curious to find another that he would enjoy.

In the next room Chip had chosen a man who was being edged by his dom, just like you were doing to him while he watched.

You took him into your mouth this time to edge him, pulling his panties down to free him, though you had him keep the skirt on. Then you took him as far back into your mouth as you could while he watched. You could tell he wanted to make noise while you brought him closer and closer again with your mouth. The man who was also being edged at the center of the room was getting the same treatment, except he was allowed to moan, which only made Chip’s job harder.

Just as you could feel him come closer to the edge once again you pulled off of him with a pop, “I think it’s time you paid some attention to me, baby boy.”

He squirmed underneath you, an unconscious movement from when you removed any stimulation. Though, you also suspected there was a hint of defiance as well because of how hard he squirmed. That made you put off when you would let him finish just a bit longer.

You finally pulled off the black dress you had been wearing all night revealing the black set you were wearing. The crotch less panties you had picked out were perfect for this. You had him get on his knees with a tug of the leash, in the exact same position you had been in earlier.

Yanking on the leash hard you pulled his face close to your dripping core. You hadn’t been unaffected by all the things you had seen and done so far tonight. He looked up at you, waiting for permission to surge forward to use his mouth on you and you freely gave it, “Go on- if you make me cum I might let you finish in the next room.”

That made him almost feral as he dove into your heat, not starting with small kitten licks and teasing. He parted your folds with his tongue, gathering all the wetness that had accumulated. Then dipping back down he began to circle the hole of your entrance a few times, then pushing it inside you while nudging his nose against your clit.

Instead of holding back your moans like you had made Chip do, you let them fall free along with most of the other people watching the man in the middle. It was hard to focus on the sight in front of you while also looking down at Chip who was fighting for your attention as hard as he could. His hands had even dared to leave his sides even though you hadn’t given him permission. He moved them to grip hard around your hips to pull you closer, if that was even possible.

“Mmm, I’ll let that slide since your mouth feels so-“ You didn’t finish your sentence as it morphed into a high pitched whine, a signal as to how close you were getting from Chip’s stimulating movements. When he started to suck on your clit, your hips tried to fight his hard grip, the stimulation almost too much. Still, you commanded him to do more with a gasp, “Put your fingers inside me!”

He followed your command perfectly, letting one of his hands move away from your hips so he could push two fingers inside you. Once he had worked them inside you, he curled them to hit at the perfect spot. That combined with his lips wrapped around your clit triggered your orgasm swiftly. You praised him as well as you could through your moans, your grip also loosening on the leash a bit as your orgasm flowed through you.

“Good boy.” You praised again, this time more coherently after you had ridden out your devastating orgasm. His cheeks were covered in your arousal, glistening in the darker lighting of the room. Bringing him in for a long passionate kiss was to show your appreciation, but to also taste yourself on his tongue. When you separated from him you gave him something he had been waiting for all night, “In the next room we choose, I’ll let you cum as many times as you want.”

He almost bolted out of the room at that, though he stopped himself, waiting for you to lead him out with his leash.

“The collar isn’t too tight? And- you're still feeling good?” You checked in with him while you walked to the next room.

“Yes!” Any nervousness had vanished by now, plus he was chipper at the prospect of being able to cum. Giving him a kiss on his lips at his response made him blush, even though it was much more chaste than any others you had shared tonight. You always knew how to make him a little bit embarrassed, just enough to make him excited.

The next room we stopped in wasn’t suited to our liking as it had a girl suspended off the floor. Chip had seemed intrigued at first by it, but ultimately decided that it wasn’t his taste.

“What’s in that last room?” He had asked, intrigued by the last room in the hall.

“Why don’t I open the door and show you? It might be a little much for tonight, but if you want, we can go in.”

He nodded eagerly at that, prompting you to open the door to the room. You had been in this room multiple times when coming here previously, it was one of your favorite rooms.

At every party this one was the same, no one was just simply watching in this one. Everyone was touching each other, no couple strictly in the center for everyone to watch while playing with themselves.

It looked like utter chaos to anyone who was new, in your opinion that was one of the best parts. They even had three people in the room to see through the chaos, the only people just watching, to make sure everything was ok.

“I want to go in.” He hadn’t even waited for you to ask before he voiced his opinion. A bright smile made its way onto both of your faces out of excitement. You had him read all of the hard limits and rules of this particular room before you nudged him forward through the door frame, letting him lead for once tonight.

It was hard to focus on what was happening around you, everyone was really touching everyone, only a few groups splitting off to pleasure themselves.

When one of the couples trained eyes on you they beckoned you both to come closer. Chip unconsciously moved forward without your leash tugging him to do so. You side eyed him a little when he did so, he did stop his movements, waiting for you to tell him what to do. You turned so you were standing in front of him, blocking his view of the couple who were now eagerly waiting to see if you two would join them.

Tugging on his leash a little made him stumble forward a bit in surprise. Now that he was closer to you, you leant forward to ask with a whisper in his ear, “Do you want to stay in this room, baby boy?” Grabbing his hair with one hand you then tilted his neck slightly to the side, nipping on it a little before then asking another question, “Do you want to get used in front of everybody baby? And- have other people use you?”

“Yes, Miss.”

With his whimpered confirmation you let your grip on him go giving him one more command before joining in with anyone, “I want you to cum as much as you want baby boy, it’s your reward. And- I’ll let you make as much noise as you want.”

Ask Me Anything

——-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (I thought it worked and then it didn’t 😡)

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

[brywrites]

Lock and Key I

Summary: In which Spencer Reid stumbles upon a GED class at Millburn and feels something like hope for the first time in weeks.

[Series Masterlist]

....

The prison library is a haven, for the few minutes he’s allowed to visit twice a week. It’s quiet, secluded, and full of his favorite things – books. The selection is nowhere near as nice as his personal collection at home, or the public library, but it’s better than nothing. Without words, he’d go mad. He needs stories to keep him sane, to give him a route he can escape by.

Today though, he’s startled to walk into the small space and find twelve other prisoners inside – accompanied by a face he’s never seen before. A woman. What’s even more surprising is that she doesn’t wear the uniform of a guard or an employee. Instead she’s in Converse sneakers and a lavender polka-dotted dress. It’s been so long since he saw that color – any bright color, really. But it’s his favorite and it isn’t until that moment that the realizes how much he’s missed the simplest of things. The sight of his favorite color. Bright images in dull spaces. Things that look hopeful.

Reid isn’t sure what’s going on, but the other prisoners seem to be too absorbed in the books to notice him. Just as he’s thinking he can back away quietly and return tomorrow, she turns around, smiling at the sight of him.

“Well hello there!” she says. “Are you Luis?”

Reid tilts his head, confused. How does this stranger know his friend? “Uh, no, no I’m not. I’m sorry, who are you?”

Her smile drops, though she doesn’t seem annoyed. Merely disappointed. “Oh. They told me Luis would be joining us today, but he never showed up. I’m Y/N. I’m one of the teachers here.”

This is the first he’s heard of such a thing. “You teach?”

She nods. “That’s right! I teach a couple of different groups – a few college classes here and there, a resume workshop. This is my GED class. We’re starting a unit on British Literature so they’ve all come to pick out a novel. You must be new here,” she notes, looking him over. He can feel himself flush under her gaze. It’s been a while since someone looked at him just to see him and not to evaluate his potential as a threat or a tool. “If you’d like, you can join the class. I’ve got plenty of open seats.”

“Oh no, I don’t need a GED.”

“It’s never too late to graduate,” she says. Then, considering him, “But that’s not what you meant is it?”

The way she’s studying him makes him nervous, though he’s certain it’s the same way he’s studied suspects and victims, trying to see beyond the obvious and understand what lies beneath. How strange, to be on the other side of that stare. “I’ve graduated high school already,” he informs her, hoping he doesn’t sound aloof. “And college. Actually, I hold three PhDs.”

“In what?”

“Mathematics, chemistry, and engineering.”

Y/N holds his gaze, taking this in. It’s as though she’s trying to decide whether or not to believe him. He figures in this environment, perhaps it’s not unusual to be told blatant lies by some prisoners. Delusion and paranoia aren’t uncommon. To teach in a place like this, she would have to be insightful and observant. For whatever reason, she must decide to trust him, because she smiles again.

“Well that’s rather impressive. You’re more qualified than I am. Just a Master’s for me.”

Reid decides against commenting in the irony of the situation, that despite his qualifications he’s nothing but a prisoner here. The same category as every drug-dealer, murderer, petty thief, and gangbanger. No better. But the way she looks at him, it at least makes him feel normal again. She looks at him like he’s a human being, with no disdain or disgust in her gaze, and no air of superiority in her voice.

“What did you study?” he asks her.

“English literature in college, education in grad school. I specialized in literature and languages, though I’m not too shabby when it comes to history. If it’s the STEM field you’ll be wanting though, you’ll have to check in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, my colleague teaches those classes.”

Glancing down at her watch, her eyes widen. “Goodness, we’re almost out of time.” She turns to the other inmates and instructs them to make their choices before she has to dismiss class for the day. To him, she adds, “It was nice to meet you – um…”

“Doct-” he begins, before stopping himself. This isn’t a normal introduction. Here, he holds no title, no position of importance. “Er, Spencer. My name is Spencer.”

“Well, Doc –” He tries not to smile at her casual acknowledgment – “if you ever change your mind, we meet Mondays and Wednesdays in room W15 during the afternoon rec slot.”

Despite having no need to attend a GED class, and for reasons he cannot quite explain, he finds himself slipping into that very room on Wednesday afternoon. Y/N glances up from the whiteboard she writes on, faltering for only a brief moment when she catches sight of him slipping into an empty seat in the back row, but she carries on. They’re talking about common themes in Brit Lit, and she’s explaining the Canterbury Tales, which they’ll be reading parts of. From what Reid gathers, there aren’t enough copies of books for them to all read the same novel, but she’s printed out large sections of the Tales for them to read together. It’s familiar, and for someone whose life has largely revolved in academia, it’s soothing to be in an environment where learning is taking place and discussion is happening. Even though he sits silently in the back row, observing.

The other inmates have all picked out books to read on their own and report on, from King Lear to Brave New World. A few have even selected Bronte and Austen novels, which Y/N applauds them for. When she divides them into groups to read and discuss “The Knight’s Tale,” she slips over to join Reid in the back of the room.

“I didn’t think you’d make it, Doc,” she tells him.

He shrugs. “I – I’ve kind of missed the classroom. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit in. If you don’t mind, of course!”

“Not at all.” She smiles, dismissing his worry with a wave of her hand. “The more the merrier. Besides, it’s rare that I have students with such an extensive education beforehand.  You’ll need to file an enrollment slip though, just for official records.”

She hands him a piece of paper and a commissary pen. While he doesn’t need the credit, he could use the normalcy. Discussions about books with other people in a space that feels a little safer – even if it doesn’t look like the classrooms he’s used to. The walls are stark white and bare save for three posters of famous writers and scientists. The two windows have thick bars on them. The desks are bolted to the floor. Every man in the room wears prison issued blues. But there is a whiteboard and a bookshelf and a clock. And Y/N, in a bright blue turtleneck. It makes him think of the sky, which he only gets a glimpse of for a few hours each week. Suddenly, she’s become the most vivid connection to the outside world.

“How long have you been teaching here?” he asks as he writes down answers to the form’s printed questions.

“Almost three years now. It started with just GED classes, but some volunteer programs have helped us bring new opportunities to the guys. It took me a while to convince the warden, but they’ve been a huge success. So are you coming from another facility? I know we had some transfers last week.”

He shakes his head. “I uh, I haven’t been sentenced yet. But there was overcrowding at the jail so they sent me here.” Reid pauses. “I assumed you would’ve known that.” The inmate records are publicly available. All she’d have to do is search his name or the number on his clothing and everything she needed to know would be right there – his charges, his admission date, his identifying information and that ID photo from his first day.

But she just shrugs. “I make a point not to look up what my students have been convicted of. I let them volunteer that information if they choose to, but I respect their privacy. Besides, I’d like to believe all of us are more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

He’s struck by her words. After all, for the last decade his job has been to see people precisely as the worst thing they’ve ever done. To delve deep into those actions and develop a profile of a person on that alone. He has an impulse to dismiss her statement as naïve, but it reminds him of Garcia, of her boundless optimism and her ability to see the best in the world even after looking at the worst of it. That memory and the smile Y/N looks at him with softens the heart he’s been carefully hardening since he arrived here. And so rather than dampen her spirit he asks, “Does it matter if I’ve read all of the books you’re discussing already?”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly with surprise. “All of them?”

“My mother was a literature professor,” he says. “And I just really like books.”

“Well, typically I’d encourage you to take the courses we offer for college credit but they’re full. Since you already have your GED, I suppose we could treat it like you’re auditing. It might help some of the guys to have someone with a little more academic experience…” She trails off and then gasps. “Oh wait! How would you feel about being the TA for the class? It’s been so long since I had one for the GED classes.”

“Like… grade papers and things?”

“No, not like that,” she says. “There are strict rules about who sees what here. Being a TA for me would be less typical TA duties and more of mentoring the other students, helping me clean up after class, re-shelving books, things like that. It’s not an official job so there’s no pay, but you would get good time credit.”

Though he doesn’t know what his sentence here will be, if he’s sentenced at all, he knows that any good time credit he can obtain to reduce the length of it is worth it. And so he says, “Okay.”

Y/N’s eyes light up. Her smile is the prettiest thing he’s seen since he got here. “Perfect! Oh, this is so exciting. I’m glad you joined us.” When he finishes the paperwork, she leads him to an empty seat at a group of tables.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Porkchop. It’s a love story,” one of the men is saying to another.

“Come on now, Xavier, you know the rules,” Y/N interrupts. “Nicknames stay outside the classroom. We use first names here.”

“Sorry, Teach,” Xavier says. He tries again. “It’s a love story, Carl.”

“That’s more like it. Carl, I can’t wait to hear your response. But first, I’m going to have Spencer join your group, alright? He’s our newest student and our TA for the class. He’s read a lot of these books so if you’re having a hard time or want to talk to someone about the material outside of class time, he’s a great person to ask.”

The group welcomes him – Xavier, Carl, Richie, and Luis. Reid is grateful to be with Luis, the one person he knows he can consider a friend inside. They talk about Chaucer and “The Franklin’s Tale,” and he’s surprised by the critiques and connections his peers make. Their debate is certainly different than the conversation he’d expect to find at a university class, but their ideas are still insightful and interesting. They make connections to their own lives, to the sacrifices they have made and the power of love they have witnessed firsthand. Mothers who never stop fighting for their appeal cases. Friends who send money so they can afford commissary. The difficulty of skipping commissary so they can send money home to their own families outside.

When their discussion finally winds down, Reid asks, “What’s the rule with nicknames about?”

“It’s Miss Y/N’s way of humanizing people,” Xavier says. “She says when we use first names like that, we’re all equals. But it’s different outside of class. We stick to nicknames because that’s what you do, y’know?” Reid shakes his head. Xavier chuckles. “You’re fresh meat, huh. First time you been down? In here, COs turn you into just a number or a last name. So nicknames inside are a way to hold on to some of your identity. Beyond that, there’s some guys in here you don’t want knowing your name, you feel me?”

“Nicknames gotta be given to you by someone else. Can’t make your own. Course, that means they’re usually a little insulting. They call me Porkchop,” Carl says. “Xavier’s Hammerhead. Richie is Spiders. And Luis, he been christened Slim Jim yesterday at chow. But don’t worry, we’ll find one for you soon.” Reid isn’t sure how to feel about the assurance. He doesn’t want to belong here, doesn’t want to fit in or get comfortable. On the other hand, he may be here for a while. Maybe laying low and finding allies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

He knows one thing for sure – as he walks out of class, Y/N flashes that bright smile at him again. And for some reason, it makes him feel hopeful. More hopeful than any session with lawyers or judges has made him feel. Monday can’t come soon enough.

[Next]

..

Tags: @calm-and-doctor​ @averyhotchner​

[juniorgman187]

Sleight of Hand (Reid Fic)

Summary: Practical Joker Reader makes the unsuspecting naive Dr. Reid the object of her most recent prank - stealing his ID badge.  Category: Pure Fluff, Drabble, One Shot Pairing: Platonic Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Super brief mentioning of dark nature of job, prank Word Count: 2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Despite what anyone else may believe, or what my resting face may convey, I’m not a mean person. I don’t take pleasure in people’s pain, and I certainly don’t intend to hurt anyone.  

With that being said - I do thoroughly enjoy messing with people from time to time. Which, in my opinion, is a completely different thing than being mean. 

At work, I’m known for pulling harmless pranks. Keyword: harmless. The dark nature that surrounds our job can consume us whole if we let it, and if anyone needs a good laugh here and there, it’s the BAU. Sometimes we all just need reminders that life shouldn’t be taken so seriously, and my silly antics are just the remedy. 

A window of opportunity for my most recent practical joke presented itself when I was packing up to leave for the day. 

Right across my desk was Reid’s and to my right was Derek’s, but at the moment, Reid was parked at the kitchenette, diligently stirring his coffee and copious amounts of sugar packets together while Derek’s head was buried six feet deep in paperwork. I could tell they would both be in for a long night and I didn’t envy them for that. 

“Alright, I’m out!” I announced to them both, but before I could actually get far, Derek stopped me. 

“Wait, (y/n)! Hold up,” He sat up from his chair to reach me with an outstretched arm. “Can you put this back on Reid’s desk?” 

I blinked hard when he tossed an object at me, so only after I caught it did I open my eyes and realize it was just a pen. 

“Wow. Lazy much?” I scoffed, gesturing to Reid’s desk that was less than seven feet away. Derek was probably exerting more effort into stretching out his arm like that to give me the pen as opposed to if he just got off his butt and walked to the desk himself.

“Pleaseee,” He partially begged, causing me to roll my eyes and replace the pen dutifully. As I slipped the pen into its rightful spot in his little cup of writing utensils, something caught my eye.

Lightbulb!

Just sitting there on Spencer’s desk was his badge. It was so carelessly placed in comparison to everything else on the table that had been situated in such a carefully, almost calculated, manner.

I knew Spencer had a habit of taking it off at the end of the day, but it baffled me just how flippantly he treated it. I figured he coveted his badge, but his haphazard placement of it suggested otherwise, while simultaneously showing his humanity to me. He wasn’t so cookie-cutter perfect after all, he could be messy, too.

It was that epiphany that almost made me not want to tamper with it, but it was my own humor that pushed me to do it anyway. 

Maybe it’s time Spencer learned a lesson, rather than being the one to teach it. 

If he was going to just let this thing lie around like it was nothing, then how would he react if it wasn’t there at all? 

I slyly looked up from the badge and to Spencer, whose back was still turned to me in the kitchen and then to Derek, who was too focused on his work to even notice that I was still here. Fully taking advantage of Spencer’s oblivion and the lack of a witness in Derek, I slipped the ID swiftly into my purse. Even if Derek wasn’t the type to be a snitch, it was better that absolutely no one knew.

Less than a millisecond after successfully concealing the badge within my bag, Spencer finally turned around and saw me lingering by his desk.

“What are you still doing here?” He asked with the slightest bit of suspicion in his voice. There was no way he could’ve known what’d I’d just done unless he had eyes at the back of his head, so I stayed calm and collected, relishing in my guaranteed safety.

“Derek wanted me to return your pen,” I explained casually from across the bullpen. I watched as Spencer strolled unhurriedly towards me, and it might’ve been my paranoia that led me to this belief, but I swore I saw his eyes dart to his desk momentarily. However, if he had noticed the absence of his badge, he didn’t say anything. 

“Oh, thanks! Have a good night.” He smiled and waved back to me, showing no indication of mistrust. 

Sucker. 

“You, too!” I said with more zeal than the situation warranted. I was worried that might’ve given me away, but I had timed my escape so perfectly that I was already in the elevator by the time he returned to his desk, giving him no chance to inquire about my uncharacteristic behavior. 

That was a close one. 

When I came in the next morning, Spencer wasn’t there yet. Which was slightly strange given the fact that I was barely on time, so if he came in at any point after my own arrival, Spencer would be considered late for work. Occurrences like that only happen once in a blue moon, and usually, the reason for them are mysterious haircuts or something’s wrong. I hoped for his sake it was the former. 

Now you might consider me an impeccable troublemaker, but I’d first and foremost be rendered outstandingly forgetful. I say this only because I had completely forgotten that I stole Spencer’s badge the night before. But can you blame me? It was stashed away in my purse, hidden to my immediate sight, and the object was so small that it didn’t stick out to me or add an excess of weight in my bag that would serve as an unintentional reminder. It never once crossed my mind, not even when I looked to Derek to ask, “Where’s Reid?”

With a coffee mug in one hand, Derek put his arms out to either side of him and shrugged. Suddenly, the mug precariously shook from the draft created by someone blowing right by him. 

It was Reid.

“Whoa, slow your roll there, Pretty Boy. Almost knocked my coffee over.” Derek reprimanded playfully, clutching on tighter to his precious coffee that almost succumbed to Spencer’s speed when he breezed by.

But rather than apologizing or laughing, Spencer kept on his pursuit. Since the time he got here, his eyes were glued to his desk with determination. Even as he approached his desk, he hadn’t yet acknowledged me or Derek. Instead, he was mumbling to himself while haphazardly sorting through his desk. He was frantic and in disarray, a manner that worried both me and Derek.

“What’s wrong, Reid?” I leaned forward to observe his desk, which by now, was what I had to think was a direct reflection of his brain - completely chaotic. Papers were scattered, books were open to random pages, he even emptied out his well-maintained writing utensil cup. 

“I lost my badge.” He answered with his attention still trained on finding it. Luckily for me, that meant he couldn’t see the sudden smirk that grew on my face as a result of his response. There was no way to hide my entertainment without biting down on my lip to keep it from contorting into a smile or perching my head on my hand and using my knuckles to hide my devilish grin. 

“When’s the last time you had it?” Derek was surprisingly just as concerned as Reid and just as eager to help him find it, even setting down his coffee on his own desk to help Reid sort through his. 

“I always take it off at the end of the day, and I remember setting it on my desk, but I didn’t take it home with me. I don’t recall even leaving here with it, so I must’ve left it somewhere here.” 

At this point, my unbridled enjoyment of this was too much to physically contain, that I actually had to spin my chair a complete 180 degrees just to shield them from the sight of my imminent laughter. 

“(Y/n), do you remember seeing it -” Derek’s voice overpowered my muffled giggles, and when he looked up to ask me that, he would’ve seen my shuddering shoulders from where I was laughing hard, yet noiselessly. I spun my chair back around and looked at him with cool indifference. 

He quickly noted the shade of red I had turned and profiled the situation. But rather than outing me, he followed the instruction of my index finger to my lips and stayed quiet. 

I took his alliance as an opportunity to nonchalantly retrieve the badge from my purse. At a tantalizingly slow pace, I raised it in the air, until it was so high, Reid would be able to see it dangling from my thumb and forefinger. 

“Looking for this?” 

Spencer’s gaze immediately shot upward to look right at the badge, before flashing to me. 

What part of him reacted first, I wasn’t sure. Was it the sigh of relief or the flared nostrils and clenched jaw that came soon after? 

He wasn’t even going to say anything to me before grabbing it from me, that’s how pissed he was. But my quick reflexes lunged me backward at the same moment he reached out to get his badge from me, preventing him from successfully taking it back. I couldn’t believe he actually tried that and thought it would work. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” I wagged my finger left to right to communicate my disapproval. “Not so fast, Pretty Boy. I want something in return.”

He shot me the most deadpan glare. “What do you want?” 

I put my finger to my chin and looked up to coyly think about it, but more so to extend his torture for just a few seconds longer. I could feel him staring a hole into me as he grew more and more impatient. “Well, it’s gotta be something good. I mean, imagine what would’ve happened if this landed in the wrong hands.” 

“Evidently, it did.” He coldly replied. 

“Ouch,” I feigned offense and brought my hand to my chest to clutch my heart with a short gasp. “I’m so hurt,” I said with the biggest pout.

He was not nearly as entertained as I was, and his lack of amusement came in the form of a stoic, “I’ll teach you sleight of hand.” 

My body actually had to reboot at the sound of his proposal. “Wait, are you serious?” I clarified. 

“Yes. It physically pains me every time I watch you try to do it, so I figure it’s better for me if I teach you how to do it properly instead of having to sit through another one of your lousy, pathetic magic tricks.”

I would’ve been offended, but I’d been begging him to teach me sleight of hand for months, so the insults were quickly disregarded by me in case he changed his mind during the time I’d take up being hurt by his cruelty.  

“Deal,” I smirked while handing him his badge back. 

Needless to say, I did teach the good doctor a lesson, but it seems he still hasn’t learned … for why would you teach the biggest practical joker in the office sleight of hand? That only adds to my arsenal of tricks I have up my sleeve to use against my coworkers.

Maybe I should teach Spencer another lesson and see if he learns this time around.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722​ @spencersmagic​ @spencerreid-mgg​ @half-blood-dork​ @goldeng1rl8​ @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms​ 

[sly-merlin]

okey dokey! I'm gonna be a father!

Requesting pregnant reader scenarios, wanna see more of the guys’ duality balancing domesticity and impending fatherhood, and running the world, ya know 🙏🏾😎🤔😀 Just throwing the idea out there since you said we could. Y’know things like ‘I’m trying to leave to set up a meeting but her back is sore & she wants ice cream so one of u needs to suddenly be available. now’ & other things ig. I imagined Ty Kun, John Jae or Kun in as leader & probably hc or jaemin as the wife-sitters (lol)

Since you didn’t specify the unit,I did this with the few members from hyung line. This got so long that I ran out of ideas so let me know if you want me to write for some other members.  though j incorporated your ideas but i based it on the concept of them managing the treats in both hands. This is my first time doing reactions so leave some feedback if you wish! Have a nice day everybody.

(7 members) Ft. Taeil, johnny, taeyong, yuta, ten, jaehyun + kun

TAEIL 

"Let me message you back!" Taeil whispered into the phone and raised his body to observe your sleeping form. Your head was securely resting on his arm and he let out a relieved sigh as it was one of the few Lucky days when you were not thrashing around in your sleep. Day after day, you were getting uncomfortable with your heavy belly and all he could ever do was keep you company in your frustrations. He couldn't risk waking you up so he tried his best to complete the task in the painful position. He fidgeted with the phone for it was impossible to handle a 6 inch of metal device with one hand. Struggling with the grip for a few more seconds, he finally managed to send johnny a message regarding the inquiry.

Ask tae He has ab eztra key 2 my ofice.

Maybe he should turn his autocorrect on for situations like this!

Thinking his work was done, he locked the phone. just when he was about to put it on the nightstand on a blind guess, it vibrated again! 

John: He is out! You need to come asap.

He stopped to watch out for any movement from your side and when there was none, he shifted to his phone again.

Nt my pblm. 

He couldn't understand why johnny was being so persistent when everyone was under strict orders to not call him after 10 p.m unless someone was dying!

John: Jungwoo is in trouble with police. I need his fake ID!

Taeil’s scoffed a bit too loudly causing you to stir.  He paused in his actions only to continue when he noticed your even breathing. Weighing the options, he concluded that Jungwoo must have forgotten to pay for the food again or something like that otherwise if it was work related then johnny would have been screaming at his door and not through the phone.

Not his 1st time. dw too much. Jst send him some food so he wont cry like last tym.

He deserved that much punishment! With that he switched the device off and wrapped his arm around your waist, returning to the warmth he got to experience only at night times.

JOHNNY

You were on edge since the day you got yourself tested. You could blame it on the suddenly changing hormones or the never present johnny but one thing was sure that you were missing him more than ever. Johnny on the other hand, avoided going back home for the sole reason of finding himself incapable of taking care of you and his dangerous job. That’s why he had assigned hendery to be at your beck and call. He was a medic and since the other medical emergencies could be handled by xiaojun and renjun, hendery had no problem in spending some time with you. His company was full of funny stories of other members and silly jokes. Despite his endless efforts to distract you, the thought that your daughter’s father was missing the growth of his own child always remained at the back of your head. You couldn’t understand how all of a sudden his workload had increased so much that he barely had any time to even see your face let alone talk to you for a few minutes. But all your worries vanished the day he returned and sarcastically ordered hendery to show his donkey self out of his house to never come back again.

“I managed to prepone some important weapon deals”, he bowed gracefully to acknowledge his own achievements, making you chuckle at him, “and I’ve been rewarded with three months of holidays so I shall be spending these months making up for the lost time and creating new memories” he completed, kissing your forehead.

"I never said I need you 24/7. A few hours at most would do John" you said, knowing how his absence would affect the black neos. 

"Yeah. But then I realised what if my baby girl mistakes hendery for her father. Can't let that happen now yeah!" 

Masked under jokes, you were very well aware of the real reasons behind the toil he had subjected himself to! It was all for you and your baby girl and you knew he would do it again and again even if it meant the end of his life!

TAEYONG

 From sharp cold deadly glare to the dragon tattoo that adorned his neck and arms, fellow criminals had every reason to fear this man. His name, in the underworld, screamed  cursed royalty. But that was Lee taeyong, leader of black neos.

The taeyong standing right in front of you, struggling with multiple boxes of boards was anything but scary. Cladded in baby blue hoodie and black boxers, he was reading the manual, knocking down the structure again and again as he repeatedly found something missing from it. 

"Leave it tae. I can complete this later on. Come and eat now." You whined and suggested while taking bites from the creamy pasta he had prepared earlier. 

"what do you mean i can complete this later on. Do you find me incapable of making a crib?"

Yes you did!

But that was not the answer you could give when he was clearly trying his hardest. It was indeed baffling as to why the man who could assemble a weapon with his left hand was unable to join the pieces of a crib with both!

"No tae. You were out for three days so maybe you are just too tired to concentrate!" You explained in the politest way possible that clearly didn't reach him properly. He let out an audible gasp at what felt for him to be the accusatory tone.

"Eat your pasta and watch me complete this in half an hour! You'd regret saying that to me!"

Why was he the one with mood swings?

Just like other bubbling thoughts, you gulped down this one too and nodded enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up as if you would never doubt his capabilities.

But you knew, he might have started the task but he was surely not going to be the one to complete it!

YUTA

“How about sakura?” hyuck suggested. Looks of disapproval were exchanged across the room and sound of mark hitting hyuck’s arm resonated in the living room.

“Cliche!” jaehyun laughed.

“Yes. We aren't naming our daughter sakura and that is final. She’s one of a kind and her name should also be!” you announced your arrival in the room and sat on the floor, making yourself comfortable between yuta’s legs. He wrapped his arms around your belly before leaning his neck to greet you with a sweet cheek kiss.

“Yes. What y/n wants, y/n gets. No sakura!” he held his one hand up in the air, forbidding any further discussion on the name.

"That's not fair!" Hyuck whined only to be dismissed by a wave from you.

"Just because it's not hyuck's choice doesn't mean that you have got right to choose by yourself. The baby is a part of this family so we get to decide what's best for her!" Ten exclaimed loudly getting everyone’s attention.

“How about ayaka?” kun suggested, entering the room with a trolley full of snacks. As the recommendations poured in, the snacks were passed to everyone. Days like these were rare and from the past two months, these rare days were spent daydreaming about the very first child in the black neos house.

“Akira? It’s quite universal you know.” mark joined in, reading the meaning of the name in different cultures and languages.

“Haru”

“No kai!” 

Somewhere in the conversation, yuta’s hands had travelled from your tummy to your sides. He knew the little brushes of his fingers had started to work on you as you swatted his hand away with yours. It only encouraged him and he tickled you on your sides more and more, getting the desired reaction. Your body being more sensitive and responsive than usual, you wiggled in his arms and squealed loudly enough to get everyone’s attention. Suddenly his hands stopped as he heard a whiny shout.

“Why are you bugging her?” hyuck hollered, “can’t you sit still for once? Let her breathe for a freaking second. You wanna tickle! Tickle me. Come tickle me but Don’t bother her!” 

You were aware of hyuck’s sudden outbursts of protection for you but this was truly something new! And you new tickles were not the reasoning behind his irritation. Sakura was!

“Le-let’s play a game”, kun interrupted before haechan’s frustration would land him into some trouble with the elder, “we’ll write all the suggestions into paper and whichever y/n chooses would be final. How does it sound?” 

Everyone hummed along to the idea. Looking over at Hyuck, you noticed a sudden glint in his eyes that spoke trouble. He was clearly planning something evil and until it was all fun and games, you had no trouble for his intentions.

“Since when did you get a bodyguard hmm?” yuta whispered, planting another wet kiss on your right cheek. 

“Yua.” you said.

“What?”

“We are naming her yua! When are you gonna tell them that i’ve already decided!” leaning backwards, you said in a hushed voice meant only for his ears.

“When they are tired enough to play any more games. Till then, let’s have fun. Look at hyuck, he’s surely gonna cheat and mark and renjun are going to strangle him.” yuta chuckled against your ear, making you laugh again. Life was good!

TEN

“Xiaojun! Xiaojun! Show yourself you good for nothing potato!” you winced at the volume of ten’s voice. Even though he was outside the room, his vocals were irritating. But you held your tongue from scolding him as he was the only one you could rely on at the moment. 

“Xia-

“Did bella bite you again? why are you shouting at-” xiaojun squinted at the wall clock and adjusted his glasses, “at 5:30a.m?”

“Half of the world is up you hibernating bear! y/n is craving ice-cream. You know better than to refuse her so go to her. Your service starts right now.” 

Xiaojun scoffed and remained glued to the stairs. Ten raised a brow questioning him but instead of answering him xiaojun came up with one of his own.

“And why aren’t you going?” 

“Switchblade prince is called so I gotta go. I don’t think you want her to wait!.”

Xiaojun groaned when ten shot him a wink and left the living room. Of course he had no trouble in tending to your demands which as a medic, he understood very well but ten’s cockiness wasn’t something he was ever ready to handle.

“y/n! What does our prince wanted to eat this early in the morning?” he smiled at you, plopping down on the edge of the bed.

“Apples and bananas.” 

“I meant what ice cream flavour do you want?”

“Ice cream? Who said ice cream? I want bananas.” you answered him, confused at his confusion!

It was only then that xiaojun realised that switchblade prince was never called in the first place. Ten had fled. Due to fruits! He was contemplating as to what extent he should be manipulating ten’s words while telling you about his betrayal when you spoke up.

“Umm. i guess we can eat mint chocolate as well. I’ll eat a banana chocolate sandwich first then we can both watch a movie and finish the ice cream. What do you say?”

Ok!  Maybe revenge could wait. Ice cream would be a priority here! 

JAEHYUN

If your husband was cocky, you were seriously too many steps ahead of him and it has taken only 10 days for jaemin to realise that you were just jae's cup of tea and no one else's, at least not as a 4 months pregnant woman. 

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" Jaehyun laughed at jaemin sprawled on the floor like a toddler. 

"Noona screamed at me" jaemin mumbled, hiding his face in his neck.

"Oh jaemin! Why did she do it? Were you teasing her again. You know that she doesn't take sarcasm too we-

"No. She threw up the food i made for her and that too thrice since yesterday. I got angry so i told her to eat up or else i won't be making anymore for her. She threw the pillow at me and ordered me to never talk to her again! I mean it's not like i was showing real anger! She's hungry since yesterday. If she won't eat up then she'd be sick. What did I do wrong! Now I made her favourite pasta and she won't open the door for me."

Jaehyun sighed and crouched down to jaemin's level. He knew your emotions weren't in your control anymore but jaemin wasn't wrong either. He was just doing what was right for you and unintentionally, you had ended up hurting the poor boy. Jaehyun patted jaemin's hair before he told him to inform taeyong about his possible absence from the upcoming meetings and activities.

"You can't do that." Jaemin said the obvious.

"Do you want her to eat or not!" Jaemin frantically nodded at him before running off to the main office.

Heating up the pasta, jaehyun made his way to your shared bedroom in black neos. 

"Baby open up it's me!" He knocked at the door and hearing his voice,you immediately opened it. 

"You are here!" You exclaimed, feeling beads of moisture in the corner of your eyes.

"Aww. Now is not the time to cry." He cooed, entering the room with the tray. Placing it on the coffee table, he turned around and hugged you just the way he missed you.

"I'm sorry for being occupied and only coming back at night. But I'm here for a few days so let's get you all happy like a seal!" He laughed, ruffling your hair.

"I-i yelled at jaemin for no reason." You confessed not being aware that he was already filled in by the younger boy. 

"You wanna apologize?" You nodded as he squished your cheeks in his hands and leaned in to kiss your pouty lips. 

"Later on! Now's the time for evening lunch and getting this food in your tummy without it backfiring!" 

You laughed at how smoothly he eased your worries. After eating properly, you apologised to jaemin which he accepted but not before crying like a little boy he was!

Bonus :

KUN

"Yangyang what the heck are you doing near y/n. I told you to keep your meaningless books away from her!" Kun felt like his blood pressure would shot up anytime soon.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh really? What's the book that you are reading to her?"

"How to walk like a pro when you are only 2 months old! I want the baby to be high class like me."

Kun's hands found refuge in his hair as he groaned at the boy. Now he needed to read all the books that could possibly reverse yangyang's teachings.

"There is no such book available."

"Yeah that's why i wrote it by myself. Pulled an all nighter but when the baby would start walking at only 2 months of age, you'd thank me!"

[winterscaptain]

berry hill.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: i am so excited to share this one with you. the tropes are PACKED in here, and it was a blast to write. i also realized some time ago that i keep forgetting summaries on my works, so i’m gonna do my best to add those from now on. as always, let me know if there are any mistakes in here! thanks to @writefasttalkevenfaster for helping me today <3  intended for the ‘a joyful future universe,’ but does not require context. takes place in 2011, early season six, prior to the valhalla arc.  words: 12k warnings: language, some vague mention of aaron’s anatomy, alcohol use, when i say slow burn i mean s l o w burn. 

summary: "...and there was only one bed."  - old fanfiction proverb

waldosia (part 2) | absence (part 3) | mean it (part 4)

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed! updated: january 5th, 2021

It’s way too late and you know it, but Jack is still on his annual winter vacation with Aunt Jess and the rest of the Brooks clan, so there’s simply no incentive to leave. You’re with Hotch at his desk, kicked back like you own the place, while he sits back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head.

The Montana case wrapped up neatly, and any remaining or incoming paperwork this week is light. Though it is admittedly weird without JJ, Seaver seems to be settling in alright. You’re glad that the team decided to take a chance on her like they did with you. 

“What do you mean he drew on the wall?” You say through a laugh, popping a grape in your mouth. “Are we talking like a crayon mark here and there or a full-on mural.”

“Multi-media mural - glue, paper mache, markers, crayons, you name it and it was there.” He laughs and he takes a grape from your bowl, kicking his feet up on the desk - mirroring you. “I have no idea how he managed it. I was in the house the whole time.”

“Oh my God, he’s a terror!” Before Aaron can agree, your phone starts ringing. You pick it up, smiling as you see the caller ID. 

“Hey Dean!” You stand and give Aaron a ‘sorry, just a second’ finger and step out of the office, leaving the door open behind you. You stay where Aaron can see you, leaning on the rail next to the stairs. You don’t really mean to stay within his eyeline, but it’s habit at this point. 

“Hey babe, I hope I’m not calling too late.” 

“Oh not at all. I’m still in the office with Hotch getting some work done.” 

You catch Hotch’s eye and he mouths ‘Work?’ and you shrug as if to say ‘It’s a loose term.’ He rolls his eyes and steals another one of your grapes. 

“Ah, I see. Late-night work with the hot boss-man.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. “So what’s up?”

He sighs, and you already know what’s coming before he says it. “Something came up at work and I won’t be able to make it to the wedding next week. We’re closing on this huge property in Georgetown and it’s really big for the firm and -“

“It’s okay. I get work stuff, trust me.” And you do. It just fucking sucks. 

“I’m so so sorry to leave you hanging. I know it’s going to be super rough. Maybe one of your work friends can go with you? Maybe boss man? His name’s Aaron, right? Hopscotch or something?” His humor doesn’t make you feel any better, but you promise to keep ‘Hopscotch’ for later.  

You tip your head up to stare at the ceiling and will the tears away from your eyes, blinking them back. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out. None of them knew to ask off work, so if we have a case I’ll be on my own regardless.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Two tears fall out of the corner of your eyes, and you turn around, wiping them away. “It’s okay.” 

“I’ll call you day-of to check in, okay?”

Hotch watches you carefully, doing your best to hide your tears from him. Bad news, certainly, but he wishes you wouldn’t hide from him like you do. Or rather, he wishes you wouldn’t try to hide from him like you do. 

He can’t hear the entire conversation, obviously, but he resolves to do what he can to return at least a little of the care you always show him without hesitation, 

“Okay.” You heave an uneven sigh. “I’ll talk to you then... Really - don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” You hang up before he can respond and rest your forearms on the railing. You let your head hang for a second, collecting yourself before you have to face Hotch again. 

You take a deep breath and turn, sitting across from him again. Attempting to restore your good spirits, you kick your feet back up and have another grape. 

Hotch’s voice is quiet. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” but your voice breaks. You clear your throat and blink a few more times. 

You can feel him squint at you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Oh, you know.” You sniff, and gesture vaguely as you continue. “My best friend from college was supposed to be my date to a friend’s wedding next week, and the friend getting married also happens to be someone I dated in college so I was really hoping Dean could come with me, and now…” You trail off, realizing you’re rambling.

He’s quiet for a little while, and you shove some more grapes in your mouth to make up for the silence. You know each other so well, but it still feels a little weird to explicitly talk about your personal life in the office. Sure, you spend a fair few weekends together with Jack, but the whole thing is a little embarrassing - and you’re not sure if the worst part is admitting you have an ex-boyfriend from college or you now have to go stag to his wedding. 

“Do you want someone to go with you?” He watches you chew on your lower lip. A long time ago, he decided there was nothing worse than seeing you upset. 

This is the least you can do, Hotchner. First personal weekend in nearly four years, you can at least do what you can to make it suck less. He reasons with himself, but he can’t help the sly thought that sneaks in on the tail end. Being a backup is better than being nothing at all. 

That’s enough. 

You scoff. “Well, yeah. Obviously.” 

He smiles a little, knowing you completely missed his point. “If you wanted…” He clears his throat and looks out the window, and you reply before he can continue. 

“Oh, God, Hotch.” You cover your face with your hands. “Please don’t feel like I’m trying to guilt you into anything. I’ll be fine.” You try to laugh it off, but can’t hide the anxiety in your voice. 

His laugh warms you. “You’re not guilting me into anything. I’m offering.” 

You remove your hands from your face and look at him. There’s an earnest sort of kindness in his eyes, and you find yourself a little short of breath. “Really?”

“Really. I can get the weekend off - things are pretty slow around here. Where is it?” You had trouble reading his tone. Really, he’s just treading carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured, or give away his own selfish motivations.

“It’s, ah,” you stutter for a second, getting your metaphorical feet back under you. “It’s down at Berry Hill Resort, right by the North Carolina border.” Your lip disappears between your teeth again. “It’s about a three and a half hour drive.” 

He opens his phone, and you know he’s checking the map. “It’d be easy enough if we left early and switched in Richmond. I’ll start, if you’d like.” 

You smile at him, wide and genuine. “Hotch, you’re the best.” 

+++

Hotch calls you up to his office, and you swing in, your hand gripping the doorframe. You bite back your greeting as you find him on the phone. 

He beckons you in and you step inside, closing the door behind you.

“...Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to pass that along to the rest of the unit...You too, sir.” He hangs up and laces his fingers, addressing you. “Question.”

You sit, resting your elbows on his desk. “Answer.” 

“Funny.”

You smirk, and he continues. “I’m not sure if it matters to you, but I have an absurd number of ties. Color preference?”

A huff of laughter leaves you in disbelief. “You called me in here to ask whether or not I want to have a color scheme?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “A united front, or at least a coordinated one, seems like the best strategy, right?”

+++

Aaron walks down from his office, his phone to his ear. You’re helping Ashley with a consult, walking her through your process just like Emily used to do with you. 

“Hotch usually likes to approach the profile starting with a demographic consideration, but I usually start from physical evidence and -”

A hand falls onto your shoulder, and you look up. “Yeah?”

He pulls the receiver away from his mouth. “Jack wants to talk to you.”

With a shake of your head and a fond smile for Hotch and an apologetic one for Ashley, you put the phone to your ear. “Hey, bud! How’s Grandpa’s house?”

“So fun,” Jack says, almost yelling into the phone. “Aunt Jess has let me play in the snow every day.”

You laugh. “I am so glad.” 

“Dad says you’re busy at work, but I miss you.” 

“Aw, bubba, I miss you, too. You’ll be home really soon, and when you get back we’ll go out to ice cream and you can tell me all about your visit.” You, for just a moment, forget where you are, and you lean back in your seat as if you’re leaning into Jack himself. “Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I love you.” 

Your breath catches, and you keep our eyes firmly planted on your consult as you reply. “I love you too, bub. Here’s your dad.” Placing the phone in Hotch’s hand, you return your attention to Ashley and do your best not to acknowledge Aaron as he walks back up the stairs. “So, like I said, Hotch prefers to -”

“Hey.” Ashley stops you with a hand on your arm. “You’re really good at your job.” 

A confused smile pulls at your lips. There’s a question in your eyes, and she answers it. 

“Oh, I just...You’re a good teacher and a good friend, that’s all.” 

“Thanks, Seaver.”

+++

On a rare weeknight off, Emily and you gather at Penelope’s apartment. You’re all sitting on the floor, bottles of wine making an occasional rotation, and a pile of snacks on the floor taking up the space in the loose circle you’ve created. 

“You’re taking time off this weekend?” Penelope sounds almost insultingly surprised, as if the concept never occurred to her. 

You nod. “Yep. First time in four years, so I think I’m about due.” 

Emily laughs and asks. “Where are you going?” 

“I’ve been inexplicably invited to an ex-boyfriends wedding - he’s a friend from college and we were friends before we dated etc. etc.” You wave your hand as you speak, outlining the tedium of it all. “His mom loves me, and I suspect she was the one who added me to the list.” 

“Are you going with anyone? Penelope’s concern is touching. 

“Yeah. One of my college friends was supposed to be my date, but he bailed for a work thing.” All the girls roll their eyes and nod. They get it. “So, Ho - someone else - is going with me.” 

“Who?” Emily narrows her eyes and searches you. 

“Oh come on, profiling is against the rules.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, sure.” 

“Spill it.” Penelope throws a goldfish cracker at you to emphasize her point. 

You take a deep, long-suffering breath, suddenly missing JJ and her powers of redirection. “Fine. Hotch is coming with me -” you intercept their eager questions “- only as a favor.” 

“That’s very...thoughtful of him.” Emily’s chin tips up suggestively, and you throw Penelope’s goldfish at her. “Who’s idea was that?”

There’s a moment here somewhere, where you realize you’ve just dug yourself a hole you’ll be hard-pressed to get out of. “He overheard Dean bail, and offered. I’m sure he’s just doing it because he feels bad and -”

“Oh, don’t be stupid!” Penelope nearly falls into Emily, giggling. “I can’t believe you two.” 

You throw your hands in the air. “What?”

Both women share a look before looking back at you with identical disbelief. Emily speaks first. “You can’t be serious.” 

Take a deep breath. You’re not that obvious. 

Maybe you are. You’ve only been half-or-completely in love with him for five years. 

Shut up. 

“Serious about what?”

Emily rolls her eyes and finishes her second glass of wine, reaching to refill it immediately. “Nevermind. You’ll figure it out eventually.” 

+++

You’re finishing your last bit of packing, leaving your toothbrush and toothpaste out for the morning, when your phone rings. 

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Aaron.” 

“Ah, my saving grace,” you say with a laugh. “Calling to cancel on me, after all?”

His laugh just isn’t as good over the phone, but it’ll do. “Not even close. Is 6am still good to come get you?” 

“It’s so early.” There’s absolutely no shame in your whine, and you’re rewarded with another laugh. “But yes, that’s fine. That gives us enough time even if we hit some traffic out of the District and into Richmond.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

You look at your suitcase, resting open on your bed. “You’re still okay with this, right? I know I couldn’t grab that extra hotel room for you and I don’t want you to feel pressured or -”

He cuts you off, calling you out by name. “Enough. I offered, remember? I’ll see you at 6. Bring a pillow so you can sleep in the car.”

Your lips pinch, holding back a smile. “Thanks, Aaron.” And he knows you don’t just mean it for the pillow reminder. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Of course. Sleep well.” 

You don’t, but are nevertheless ready with bells on, pillow tucked under your arm, and coffee in-hand at 5:55am the following morning. He looks surprised when he pulls into the driveway and sees you standing on your porch, looking only a little worse for wear. At least your teeth are brushed.  

“Thought you might want this.” You hold out the travel mug to him as he approaches, and he takes it (and your suitcase) from you. 

“Thank you. Jump in.” 

You follow instructions and immediately stuff your pillow between your head and the window as he throws your suitcase in the trunk. You’re forever grateful Aaron drives the same SUVs you all have at the bureau. He claims it’s easier to not think about different car specs, but at this moment you only care about the temperature control and familiar, soft leather seats. Your eyes shut on their own accord, still heavy even after your abbreviated morning routine. 

He slips into the driver’s seat and, with your eyes closed, you miss the way he looks over at you with a barely-there, fond smile. Your sweatshirt is too big for you and your face is adorably smushed into the pillow. 

With a sigh and shake of his head, he places his hand on the back of your seat, backs out of the driveway, and gets on the road. 

The silence gives him plenty of time to think about things he’d rather not address. This favor, for one, is something he’s still trying to reconcile. 

Would I have offered to Emily? JJ? Hell, Dave? 

If any other member of the team had a friend bail out of their role as a wedding date, he’d like to think he’d drop everything and take the weekend to make them feel better, but he knows that probably wouldn’t be the case in reality. He knew you were different, and it frustrated and confused him. 

As often as he acknowledges his love for you - he wishes it would just stop.  

Only a year and change had passed since Haley’s death, and there were still some mornings where he woke up and couldn’t breathe. Jack still had some nightmares too. Those broke his heart more than anything in the world, but he knew you would always pick up if he called - no matter the hour. 

It happened more often than he’d like to admit. 

“Hotch? Aaron? What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to wake you.” 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.” 

You’d always talk to him about something or nothing at all, sometimes turning on your bedside lamp and reading from whatever book you were perusing before bed. 

He knows you understand. You were the only one there with him, when he found her body. You were there to take his son out of his bloodied hands. You were there when he was afraid of himself. 

The nightmares still come for you, too, sometimes. There are nights where Haley’s dark blue eyes stare into you, whether your eyes are open or closed. You told him that, once, and he was grateful - grateful that he wasn’t the only one. 

You murmur something in your sleep, about twenty minutes outside of the city. You’re still an hour or more away from Richmond, and Hotch figures he’ll let you sleep if you don’t wake up between now and then. It’s not a hard drive to Berry Hill, and you need the rest. 

Might be good to pick up some food on the way...

He turns the music off, letting the sounds of your breathing and the road wash over him. 

“Aaron.”

He turns, expecting your watchful eyes, but finds you burrowing further into the pillow, a little smile on your face as you remain blissfully unaware of your surroundings. Something warm starts to radiate in his chest as he looks back out at the road, the Virginia countryside stretching out in front of him, around him, and in every direction he can see. The warmth vibrates into his fingertips. He flexes his hands around the wheel, trying to shake it.

He fails. 

You’re not sure how you manage to sleep so soundly in the car. You had tossed and turned all night, thinking only of facing a part of your life you hoped you’d never address head-on ever again. Why you accepted the invitation at all (or why you even received one) was beyond you. 

It must be his mother’s doing. She always loved you, and she did her best to keep your friendship alive much longer than its natural death. 

Exercising control over her child’s life due to an exceptional lack of control and consistency during her upbringing. Relating to her son’s partners to achieve some semblance of intimacy without facing the root of her insecurity that she’s failed as a parent.

The profiling never stopped, it seemed. 

It wasn’t just the wedding keeping you up last night. The thought of spending the weekend with Aaron in an environment where you will inevitably feel (if not look and act) distraught close to the whole time still wears on you. Spending weekends at home, where you sit together with a glass of wine and leftover popcorn after Jack gets tucked in feels different. 

That’s comfortable. That’s safe. This? This is scary. Vulnerable. Burdensome.

Even then, there’s nobody you’d rather have at your side while you face friends you haven’t seen in ages. He’s charismatic, almost entirely unapproachable (when he wants to be), and tall. All those factors should be enough to keep anyone from trifling with you for the duration of the weekend. 

But now, in the car, all those thoughts are far from your mind. Your mind is blissfully dark and blank, your body soothed by the low hum of the car and the smell that follows Hotch wherever he goes - spicy, earthy, and something that reminds you of the air right before lightning strikes. 

The car slows, and the subtle change in ambiance wakes you. You lift your head, finding Hotch turning on an offramp. 

“Are we in Richmond already?” You ask, bleary. 

He smiles. His sunglasses are resting on his nose to combat the rapidly-rising morning sun. “Not yet, but I figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”

You tip your head. He’s right. “I could eat.” 

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “You should eat.” 

+++

After food and a top-off for the gas tank, you offer to drive. 

Aaron refuses. “If you drive, I don’t get to pick the music.” 

“I thought shotgun picks the music.” You frown at him, admittedly still a little tired. You’ve shoved your pillow behind your seat and start to sit like an actual human being for the first time that morning. 

“Those are Morgan’s house rules, not mine.” 

“Ah,” you say, sagely. “I see. What are your house rules?”

There’s a smile behind his sunglasses. “Driver picks the music and critically considers any suggestions made by shotgun.” 

Thus, the Beatles’ White Album starts from the top. You can’t say you’re surprised - it is his favorite. You’ve grown rather fond of it yourself, if you’re honest, Though, you’re not sure if you fondness for the album has anything to do with the man beside you - the one who’s hair is soft and floppy in the morning light, the one wearing an uncharacteristically casual ensemble of jeans, sneakers, and a black t-shirt, the one singing along under his breath.

“Why is this one your favorite?”  You hear yourself ask. 

He’s quiet for a minute, as if you are the first to ask that question. Maybe you are. “I’m...not sure. I think it might have something to do with my mom. She bought the record a couple of weeks after I was born in late ‘68, and made sure I had a copy when I got my own record player in my first college apartment.” He shrugs. “It’s been around just as long as I have, and there’s something a little - I don’t know - comforting about that?”

You nod. “I get that.” You’re quiet for a moment, considering all the things that happened in 1982. “Grease 2 came out the year I was born, so I can’t say I share a similar affinity for the pop culture phenomena of my birth year.” 

Hotch lets out a low whistle and a grimace. “That film really was awful.” He waits for your laugh and is rewarded before continuing. “I saw The Who on their final tour that year.” 

You furrow your brow. “Weren’t you like, barely in high school?”

He nods. “We snuck out, a couple of friends and me. It was really stupid and we got in a lot of trouble, but it was fun.” There’s a nostalgic smile on his face. “I have no idea how we managed to get all the way into the District, let alone find tickets, but everything was a little less complicated back then. Buses ran on time, people read maps, and parents didn’t all have cell phones.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk. “But of course, that’s before your time.” 

You roll your eyes. “Oh c’mon. I’m not that young. I remember the world before the mainstream internet and 9/11 and all that pre-Patriot Act shit. I remember when the Berlin Wall came down, at least.” 

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fair enough.” 

You lapse into silence for a little while, handing him fries from the drive-thru bag when he puts his open palm over the center console. You notice his left hand shift slightly in time with the music, and you watch a little more carefully. 

And I see it needs sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps

I don’t know why Nobody told you How to unfold your love I don’t know how Someone controlled you They bought and sold you…

“Hotch, do you play guitar?” There’s a touch of disbelief in your tone, but you try to hide it for the sake of his pride. It’s not that you think he doesn’t have a musical or creative bone in his body, but you’re rather surprised by the relaxed subtlety of his movement. It was your impression he never did anything without thinking about it, and to see the slight, almost unconscious action sparks a pleasant little flicker of warmth in your chest. 

He shrugs. “I played a little when I was younger. I guess you could say I know how to play, but I don’t claim to be decent at it in the slightest.” His head tips, and you could swear you see an eye roll. “Sean’s always been better at those kinds of pursuits.” 

As usual, he doesn’t seem thrown or surprised by your question and doesn’t hesitate to answer them. After almost five years, he’s used to your keen observations. He’d never admit it, but he expects them - maybe he’s not able to guess at the content of the questions themselves, but he always knows there will be one eventually.

“Have you and Sean always butted heads?”

Aaron snorts, and gives you a simple, “Yes.” 

You’d never met the younger Hotchner, but you’d seen photos and heard tell. From what you understand, he’s a little wilder than his older brother, a little more idealistic and far less practical. Sean seems like someone you would like, but you doubt he would rise to the top of your Favorite Hotchners List - a list with only two names so far, tied for first. 

It’s safe to say Jack and Aaron are hard acts to follow. 

+++

You talk about everything and nothing, when finally, he asks. “So, who is this guy?”

“Ugh.” You tip your head against the seat. “You really want to know?”

“Of course. Isn’t it protocol to brief the team before arrival?”

You snort, immediately regretting your decision to make fun of Strauss over drinks last week. “Yes, sir.” 

He laughs, and you tell him. 

You tell him about Austin and how you met in a random general education class and became fast friends and started dating, talked about marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. You told him about your semester abroad, your traveling, and returning home to find he’d been dating someone else while you were away, without your knowledge. 

“It’s kind of cliche, I know, but it broke my heart in half.” You laugh a little to cover the truth of it. Hotch keeps his eyes on the road, letting you go at your own pace the same way you let him the entire time he’s known you. “I was really close to his family, and we did our best to remain civil and friendly for everyone else’s sake, but we’ve only kept in touch through other people the last few years.

“I think his mom sent the invitation. I mostly accepted because I’d love to see her and Austin’s little sister - I miss them the most.” 

“What are they like?”

There’s a smile on your face as you tell him about them - how Allison likes more cream than actual coffee in her mug, how their mom has the best taste in books and still sends you worn copies of her favorites every once and awhile. 

“It’s good of you to keep in touch.” 

You shrug. “I guess. I mean, I know it’s different, but you have Jess.”

The difference, he decides, is that you are kinder, more patient than he is. Jess would hardly be in his life at all if Haley was still here. He had a hard enough time keeping up with Haley’s family when they were married. Keeping up with them after the divorce? 

There was no way to know, but he can’t remember much affection between them even before Haley’s father decided to hold him personally responsible for her death. 

You notice his preoccupation, and reach out. Your thumb traces back and forth over the skin of his bare forearm. “It’s different now, and it would be different then. There’s no right way to do anything.” 

He exhales in a huff, and you bring your hand back into your lap. “I spent almost twenty-five years knowing Haley. You know that?”

“I do. I also know you spent longer than twenty-five loving her, and probably won’t ever stop.” 

There’s a sigh, and then an elbow on the center console. He leans heavily on it, and you do your best to keep your hands to yourself. “How do you know everything?” He asks. 

You rest your head against the seat and adjust so your body is angled toward him. A small smile crosses your face as you take in his profile - relaxed, his wrist hanging loosely on the wheel, sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “I dunno. I guess I just pay attention.” 

+++

You let out an exhausted exhale upon reaching the room you will share with Aaron for the weekend. One king size bed dominates the room, instead of the two doubles you halfway expected. He recovers faster than you do, shrugging and setting his things down on the left side of the bed, closest to the door. 

Instinctively and completely without previous confirmation, you kind of figured he sleeps on the left side. The realization of that fact is a little unsettling, but you follow his lead and set your suitcase on the stand opposite his, unzipping it and unfolding your garment bag. 

There’s a small part of you that’s pleased by this arrangement. Another part of you shames that part. 

He’s going to think you’re taking advantage of him. 

Are you kidding? He’s a SWAT-trained senior FBI agent. And a lawyer. It’s impossible to take advantage of him. 

Yeah, of course that’s what he wants you to think. 

Do you ever shut up?

Your outfits for the cocktail hour and the ceremony day are all set. So are Hotch’s, apparently. You look over to find him hanging a grey pinstripe suit in the closet you’d never seen before. It looks beautifully tailored, and expensive. 

“Mind if I take up some real estate?” You ask, holding up your handful of hangers. He shakes his head and makes some space for you. 

When you’re all settled, you sit on the bed, still tired. It doesn’t make any sense, seeing as Aaron insisted on driving the entire way. 

“What time is our first obligation?”

You huff a laugh at his rhetoric. “5pm. Cocktails at the hotel bar. Rehearsal dinner after that is wedding-party-only, thank God.” Glancing at the clock, you confirm, “We basically have the day to ourselves until then.” 

He nods thoughtfully before meeting your eyes over your shoulder. “How do you feel about a nap?” 

I love you. 

Shut up. 

You can’t imagine how tired he is - working off minimal sleep and coming off a drive just shy of four hours long. “I feel great about a nap.” 

Aaron’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he picks up a pair of flannel pajama pants from his bag and shuts himself into the bathroom. 

Oh my god. Oh my god. 

You quickly shuck your sweatshirt, suddenly too warm. Standing, you cross to the window and draw the blinds, covering the room in a kind of gentle shade that isn’t quite darkness. You toe off your shoes and slip under the covers, thankful you never really changed out of your pajamas. Curling up facing the bathroom door, you try to stay awake until Hotch returns, but your eyes close of their own accord.

Hotch leaves the bathroom to find the room darkened and you under the covers, dead to the world. He takes another moment to look at you, the way your brow sits smooth and relaxed above your closed eyes, your hands curled loosely in front of your face, the way your breath evenly comes and goes past the curve of your lips. 

Taking the risk, he places his jeans back into his duffle bag and gingerly stretches out on top of the covers beside you. His eyes close eventually, but he can’t remember falling asleep - entirely preoccupied by the phenomenon before him. 

+++

When you stir again, your hands are warm. You take a deep breath and your eyes crack open, finding a sight that steals your breath. Hotch is on his side in front of you, ramrod straight, with your hands clasped between his. Your heads are bowed together - not touching, but close. 

There’s no memory of him joining you in the massive bed, nor any recollection of contact, so he either held your hands on his own, or you found each other in sleep. 

You’re not sure which one makes your heart flutter faster.

Resolving to get a little more sleep, you close your eyes. Only moments later, you feel him stir beside you. You know he’s watching you, and you endeavor to keep your breath even and slow, hoping he can’t hear the racing of your heart. 

He releases one of your hands, and you let it drop down to the cover, praying your fingers don’t twitch. 

You’re proud of yourself when you don’t flinch as his fingers brush butterfly-soft against your cheek, tracing from your brow bone, down your nose and across your lips. Impossibly gentle touches find their way down your temple to your jaw before disappearing. 

His hand closes around yours again and it takes everything you have to keep your breath steady as he presses his lips to your fingers before tucking them back to his chest. When his breath evens out again, you know he’s asleep. 

You open your eyes, thinking it's more than high time to study him for a change. 

He looks years younger in his sleep, closer to your age than his. Even awake, he hardly looks the picture of a father in his mid-forties. His graceful aging is more obvious when his face isn’t drawn up in stress or that aching kind of sadness that lingers around him. 

Curious about what he saw and felt on your face, you follow his path, slipping your hand out from under his, tracing his jaw, his cheek and brow bones, his handsome, straight nose. 

Your finger rests lightly on his cupid’s bow for a moment, his breath rushing slow and warm over your hand. The feeling of his breath stalls yours, and you swallow. The next breath you take is almost a sob, and you press your lips into a thin line. Light fingers brush through the hair at his temples, the sparse, soft silver strands seeming to glow in the low light. 

What you don’t know, however, is that he has taken a page out of your book. Though his eyes are closed and his breath even, he is very much awake, heart pounding. He’s sure you can hear it, or even feel it, with your remaining hand still trapped between his. 

The catch in your breath makes his chest ache. Even then, his eyes remain closed, and he’s mindful of his breath. With the route you take, tracing his features, he realizes with a shock of adrenaline and cold panic that you were probably awake, playing at sleep then as he was now. 

If that was the case, you know how he feels about you. He knows how you feel about him. 

But you can’t. You don’t want to take up space in his life he doesn’t have, space better used to heal, space reserved for his son. 

He can’t. It's too soon. He can’t subject you to the ghosts, the baggage, the long journey to wholeness he’s endeavored to embark upon with only his son at his side. 

The new normal, his therapist had told him, is the hardest thing to find. 

He was sure, then, that it would be easier to find the new normal on his own, but he wasn’t so sure, now. 

You slip your hands away from him entirely and roll over, making play at rising. You check the time on your phone, finding the early afternoon awaiting you. 

There’s a deep breath and a stretching noise, and you turn to find Aaron rolled over on his back, his hands laced behind his head. 

“Good afternoon,” you say, and you’re proud of yourself for sounding normal. 

A smile plays at his lips. He looks like he knows something. “Good afternoon.” 

“So, tonight.” You decide it’s best to move on before anyone admits anything they don’t mean to share. “Do you just want to be ‘work friends’ or do we want to lean into the whole ‘let’s ruin Austin’s life’ thing?”

He laughs a little. “I’m comfortable leaning in if you are.” 

+++

The cocktail hour isn’t as horrible as you thought it would be. Aaron sticks to your side like glue, your right hand firmly placed in the crook of his arm while your left babysits a small glass of wine, more for show than for anything else. 

You hear your name from across the room, and you see a huddle of some old friends and their respective dates. Aaron tips his head down to get the briefing, and you tell him names, relationships, and brief histories as you approach. 

As you expected, he’s warm and charming, taking cues from you as you navigate eight years of catch-up with classmates you remember well and alleged classmates you don’t recognize at all. 

“How did you two meet?” The woman asks (You’re certain she’s someone’s sister - Hotch caught her name while you missed it. Oops.). 

You glance up at Aaron for a second before answering. “We’re in the same department at work.” 

The man with her takes a sip of his drink. Him, you kind of recognize. Casey? Carson? Maybe. “Where is that, again? I can’t remember where you landed after your internship.” 

“DoJ, in Quantico.” 

Leslie, who you met in guided research your senior year, rolls her eyes. “They work for the FBI, Carson, keep up.” 

Carson, that’s it. 

“No shit!” 

A small group has gathered around you, and you shuffle closer to Aaron. He wraps his arm around your waist and steps a little behind you, protective and secure. 

“Shit,” you reply, jostling Aaron with your shoulder. “We don’t have our creds on us tonight, so if you get arrested you’ll have to bail yourselves out.” 

“We also don’t have jurisdiction even if we did, so keep it high and tight and we’ll all do just fine.” Aaron’s voice rumbles through you with a laugh, and you take an overlarge sip of wine. 

He really shouldn’t say things like high and tight with his hand where it is. 

And his hand isn’t really in any kind of questionable location, just resting above your hip with his chest to your back, but it's still more contact than you’re used to. He wasn’t joking about leaning in. 

“There he is!” Carson crows, and your head whips around. You almost lose your balance, but Hotch keeps his feet. A warm hand presses to your shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. You know he can hear you, and he presses a kiss to your temple. 

“Always.” 

It’s just an act. He doesn't mean it. He can’t mean it. 

Austin approaches with his drop-dead gorgeous fiancee and a smile. 

Aaron releases you as Austin gives you a warmer hug than you were expecting, and examines Hotch over your shoulder. He introduces you to his fiancee (Madeline), and you introduce them both to Aaron. 

“Austin, this is my…” you pause, realizing you never actually established a cover story, letting the implication speak for itself. “Aaron.” You recover with a light laugh, and Aaron pulls you to him with one hand while he shakes Austin’s with the other. 

You try not to smirk at the grimace that flashes across Austin’s face when Aaron’s hand closes around his in a very firm and assertive handshake. “Pleasure. Congratulations.” 

Austin laughs, a little uncomfortable, and stretches his hand once it reaches his side again. “Thanks. We’re really glad you both could make it. Mom will be really happy to see you.” 

+++

“That could have been so much worse.” You shuck Aaron’s blazer off your shoulders and hang it in the closet as he passes behind you. He’d passed it to you when you shivered slightly at the bar and it wasn’t even a point of conversation. It had been second nature to him, draping it over you and placing a hand on your back. The memory pulls a smile from your lips. “Thank you for enduring the mayhem down there.” 

Aaron sits on the bed and slips off his boots. “I can’t remember the last time I went to a social event that didn’t directly affect my career trajectory.” He looks up at you, and his grin makes your heart skip around in your chest. 

You shake your head, walking past him to retrieve your pajamas and toothbrush. “Do you ever want to move up the chain at all?”

“Not really. Something big would have to change to get me to leave the BAU.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “We tried that, remember?”

“I do, actually.” At his chuckle, you continue. “I can’t say that’s something I’d like to relive anytime soon.” 

You move easily around each other, changing into pajamas and brushing your teeth and getting otherwise ready for bed. He’s cute at night, with his pajamas and floppy hair and big yawns. It’s not like you haven’t seen this side of him before, what with all the late nights watching movies with Jack, but it is significant that it’s just the two of you. He’s not Jack’s Dad right now, or Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner who won’t go to bed until The Case Is Solved, but Aaron. 

Sleepy, charming, funny Aaron. 

Eventually, you throw back the covers and crawl in without thinking about it too much, while Aaron lingers in the bathroom doorway. 

“I really can take the couch.”

You look at him and pointedly turn off the lamp resting on your side table. “We’re adults. I don’t mind it if you don’t. And for that matter, if either one of us is sleeping on the couch it’s me.” 

“Oh?” He asks. “Why’s that?”

“Because as you so astutely pointed out earlier, I am significantly younger than you, and I think my back will fare better than yours after a night of lumpy cushions.” 

The bathroom light flips off, and you hear a scoff in the dark. “Never once did I say significantly younger.” 

“Well, Aaron, ‘before your time’ is rife with implication.” 

The mattress dips beside you, and his form takes shape in the darkness, facing you. Before he can speak again, you cut him off. 

“You know what? Nevermind. I forgot who I was talking to, and I would hate for you to go full-tilt lawyer on me.” You curl up, bringing the covers to your chin. He laughs, and you can almost pretend that this is your life, that you get to fall asleep beside Aaron every night. 

Don’t get comfortable. 

Why not? He’s here, isn’t he?

He is, but not like that. This is a favor for a friend, nothing more. 

You’re both quiet for a little while, listening to each other breathe in the dark. There’s a sigh, and you belatedly realize it came from you. 

“Are you okay?” Aaron’s voice floats to you in the dark, and you nod. “I know this isn’t easy for you.” 

You think for a moment, trying to articulate your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just - I really can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re here with me this weekend.” A hand reaches out, and you find it. 

“Of course. I’m glad I can be here for you.” He means it. The trust you’ve placed in him does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. Your willingness to be vulnerable and funny and so yourself is a precious gift to him, and one he’ll never take for granted. “Thank you for letting me come.” 

I’d like to let you come -

Ew, dude. 

What?

Now is not the time. 

“With that in mind,” he continues, his voice gentle in the dark, “I’m really proud of you. And not in a ‘I’m your boss and you’re making significant progress,’ way. As your friend, I’m really proud of you.”

Your friend. 

He is your friend. 

I know but that…sucks. 

It doesn’t have to. 

There’s something in his voice that almost makes you stupid, but you hold your tongue. “Goodnight, Hotch.” 

He takes a deep breath, missing the way his first name fits in your mouth. It sounds safe there, like you’d never use it against him. “Goodnight.” 

+++

You feel warm and feeling somewhat constricted, but not uncomfortable. There’s weight at your back and an arm around your waist, and you lean into it in your state of half-wakefulness. A little noise leaves the body behind you, almost like a sigh with tone. 

Remembering where you are, you resist the instinct to jump. Hotch is wrapped around you like a koala, his knee between yours, one arm under your head and the other around your waist, face buried into the crook of your neck and shoulder. 

His hair smells divine, and he’s so warm. 

Your theory from yesterday morning seems confirmed - you definitely didn’t fall asleep touching each other, so you must have found each other in the night. The thought warms you, and you close your eyes again.

The ceremony isn’t until the early afternoon, so you have all the time in the world to doze and prepare for the hellscape of the day. 

That’s not a fair assessment. You think, and correct yourself. 

If the prior evening was any indication, things would go smoothly. Aaron was the world’s best wingman. He kept conversation flowing and took your cues without a second’s hesitation. Everyone loved him, and people asked you all night how you met, how long you’d known each other, how long you’d been together. The first questions were easy, but the last one was one you hadn’t prepared for. He, of course, had an answer for all three. 

“We work together.” 

“We met, what? Five years ago now? Maybe a little more?”

“We’ve been partners for almost four years.” 

And...he wasn’t lying. You always paired off with him at work, whether naturally or by assignment. His lack of specifics in defining your relationship both settled and raised your blood pressure, depending on the way you decided to approach it. The words accompanied an affectionate squeeze around your waist or a kiss to the back of your hand. 

You know he’s just playing the part for the weekend and everything will go back to normal when you get home. 

But God, he’s good at it. 

You almost believe him.

He’s still sleeping behind you, his breath fanning slow and even across your shoulder. You’re both fully clothed, but there’s something intimate about it. Sleep, you think, is inherently vulnerable, inherently a trusting state. You two not only managed to fall asleep in the same bed, but woke up tangled together. 

You drop your hand to your waist and rest your hand on top of his, falling back into sleep without too much thought. 

When Hotch wakes, it’s thankfully late. He’s far too comfortable to be in a hotel bed, but quickly realizes it’s not the mattress. You’re wrapped in his arms, and for a split second he almost panics, concerned that you’ll wake to find him glommed onto you like some kind of ridiculous backpack. 

But then he remembers the way your fingers traced his face when you were sure he was asleep, the way you leaned into him the night before - taking shelter in his willing arms. 

He feels your fingers pushed between his, your palm warm against the back of his hand, holding him to you.

He’s fucked. He’s totally and completely fucked. He’s even more fucked to even consider the possibility you’re fucked, too. 

How could you possibly want him? A man nearly fifteen years older than you, with one failed marriage under his belt, an inability to tear himself away from his work, and more than enough trauma to drown in is hardly the ideal partner for someone as vibrant as you, with so much life yet to live.

And yet, it’s so hard to imagine a life without you. Whenever he looks into his future, he sees you there with him. It’s far too easy to let himself fall into the fantasy as you peacefully sleep in his arms with your fingers laced together. 

You shift a little in your sleep, and he arches his back a little, definitely trying to keep you away from...certain parts of his anatomy that are a little more awake than the rest of him. 

Quit while you’re ahead, Hotchner. 

He very gingerly disentangles himself from you, and he’s pleased when he only gets a few sleepy protests in return. The shower is calling his name, for more than one reason including but not limited to the uncomfortable tightness of his flannel pajama pants. 

With one last lingering glance at you, he picks up his toiletries and locks himself in the bathroom for a long (very) hot shower, followed by a much shorter (very) cold shower. 

While he’s gone, you stir and stretch your arms over your head. A little disoriented, you find his side of the bed empty but not quite cold before you hear the running water of the shower. 

What if you just - 

Do not finish that thought. 

You are not one iota of fun. 

Reaching for your bag, you pull your laptop out and get started on some emails. You have a couple from Seaver and one from Emily.

You sigh and pull out your phone. 

“Prentiss.”

“Hey, Em. You wanted me to call?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see how things are going down there.” her voice is the picture of forced nonchalance, and you can almost hear Penelope leaning over her shoulder. 

You laugh into the phone and trace patterns on the bedspread. “Things are going well. Hotch was the perfect gentleman last night, and we have the ceremony and reception today. We head home tomorrow morning.” 

“Has anything happened? Where is he right now?”

“He’s in the shower. And no, don’t be ridiculous.” You shove your phone under your chin and answer all of Ashley’s questions in confident keystrokes. “You and I both know he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.”

Aaron pauses in the bathroom, in the middle of towel-drying his hair. With a smile, he overhears: “...he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.” 

He can’t hear the response, but he does hear you when you say. “My God, Em. Would you quit?” 

Ah. So it is Emily. 

“I’m not going to do anything about it because there’s nothing to do anything about...Don’t give me that...You have absolutely no proof...I don’t care if you’re a profiler or not, there is no way you can say with any definitive certainty -” You pause, and your voice drops to a low murmur he can’t hear over the hum of the bathroom fan. 

With a frustrated huff, he ties the towel around his waist and ventures out, entirely aware of his state of undress. 

You’re so glad you drop your voice to finish your thought (“- that he’s in love with me. Don’t be stupid.”) because the door opens and you are immediately confronted with Aaron Hotchner in a towel and every single coherent thought flies out of your head. He smiles a little at you, and something in you melts. 

“Are you good?” Emily’s voice is full of laughter. 

The heat rises in your cheeks and you whip your head back to your laptop, typing just for something to do with your hands. “Yeah, for sure.” 

“He just walked out wearing a towel, didn’t he?”

“Emily, you know I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” You roll your eyes, and miss the smirk on Hotch’s face as he grabs his hanging clothes from the closet.

“So that’s a yes.” 

+++

Austin’s family clearly spared no expense for either the ceremony or the reception. You and Aaron had walked in arm-in-arm to find a spot on the groom’s side near the back. It’s still weird - there was a time where you thought for sure Austin was the be-all-end all for you. 

But here you are, sitting next to Aaron. He’s wearing that beautiful suit that looks even better on him than it did on the hanger (and that’s saying something). As promised, his tie matches your outfit, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it made your heart all warm watching him put it on. 

The ceremony itself is a blur. You stand and sit when you’re supposed to, and spend the vows with your head on Aaron’s shoulder - playing the role, of course. You take a few unsteady breaths, caught off guard by how affected you are by the ritual of it all. 

You don’t love Austin anymore, not by a long shot. That said, the reminder that you’re not married to anybody but work and rapidly approaching thirty is unpleasant. 

“Are you okay?” Hotch’s whisper doesn’t carry far. 

You nod. “Yeah. Just thinking.” 

“About?”

You shake your head, the soft wool of his suit jacket pressing into your temple. “Later.” 

His cheek presses to your hair for just a moment. He’s not worried about you, per se, but he’s never seen you in this existentially forlorn state before. It’s a feeling he recognizes in himself, but to see it on you makes him feel a new kind of helpless. 

+++

You’re at the open bar, snagging a glass of wine for yourself and two fingers of whiskey for Aaron (the good stuff, of course), when Austin’s mother warmly accosts you. 

“Darling!” 

Against your will, a genuine smile breaks out across your face. “Hey, Laurie!” You set the drinks down and embrace her, the familiar smell of her perfume engulfing you. Suddenly, you feel nineteen years old again. “Congratulations.” 

She pulls back and waves off your good wishes. “Oh, please. I haven’t done anything.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “I beg to differ, but alright.” 

She takes you under her arm and holds you close to her. “So.” Her tone is conspiratorial, as if a great plot is to unfold before you. “Who is that devastatingly handsome man you’ve brought with you to shame my son?” 

“I did not bring him to shame your son, he offered to come when my original date bailed. You remember Dean?”

“Of course. Such a sweet boy. Still married to his work?”

You shake your head. “I would be...hypocritical of me to get upset with him for that. My work at the bureau keeps me plenty busy. If I’m honest, this is the first personal time I’ve used in four years.” 

She squeezes you for a half-second. “I’m so glad you’re here with us.” Her lips purse. “But don’t think you can get out of telling me about that fine, fine man over there.” 

“His name is Aaron,” you start, fighting a smile. “We work together at the bureau and he’s just a friend, Laurie, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I always have ideas. Now, introduce me so I can see for myself.” 

With a long-suffering sigh, you grab the drinks off the bar and lead her to the table, where Aaron sits with his fingers pressed thoughtfully to his mouth, his elbow on the table and ankle crossed over his knee. Approaching from behind him, you set the whiskey down where he can’t knock it over and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Aaron.”

He turns, and a broad smile breaks out over his face. You’re sure he’s just being polite - you’ve never seen him smile so much. Offering a hand to Laurie, he stands. “SSA Aaron Hotchner. Thank you for having us. I’ve heard so much about you and your family.”

“Oh no, that can’t be good.” She laughs lightly and takes his hand in both of our own. “Laurie Miller. As I’m sure you know, I have a great amount of love for this one here.” She releases Aaron’s hand and tucks you into her arms again, kissing your cheek. You laugh, tickled by her demonstrative affection designed only to embarrass you. 

“C’mon, Laur. You don’t have to lie for my benefit.”

You try to ignore the fondness in Aaron’s eyes as he watches the two of you, Laurie cooing over you and your successes. She returns her focus back to Aaron. “Sit, sit and tell me what you crazy kids get up to over there in Quantico.” 

Aaron sits and relaxes back into his chair, resting his arm on the back of your seat. You lean forward with your elbows on the table, your hands propping up your head. Aaron’s a great storyteller, of course, and it’s so interesting to watch him talk about work outside of the context itself. He seems to bloom - effusive, charming, and warm - before you. 

When you look at him, it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time. 

“...Preventing loss of life is always rewarding, and our team is a family.” 

Laurie is clearly enamored, completely drawn into his gentle description of your very-stressful and often-gritty line of work. “It’s so lovely you have so much fondness for each other. I imagine it makes everything much easier.” 

He nods, and glances at you. “It does.” 

Your phone buzzes on the table, and you excuse yourself with a hand on each of their shoulders. 

“Dean, you bastard!” You answer. Hotch’s huff of laughter tells you he overheard it, but he picks up right where he left off with Laurie. 

As you step out onto the banquet hall balcony, almost feel bad leaving him to his own devices, but then you remember all the times he’s been left alone with serial killers and you feel much better. 

“Hey babe! Are you surviving? Are you alone? Tell me everything.” 

You laugh into the phone. “I’m doing alright. Hotch actually offered to come with me. I just stepped out, but he’s in there holding his own well enough.”

“Oh my god. When I said that I didn’t actually think you’d do it!”

“What do you mean?” You look up and out over the property, and the views are simply breathtaking. The moonlight falling across the Virginia landscape almost makes the world look like it’s holding its breath. 

What it’s waiting for... you’re not sure. 

“When I said bring your hot boss to the wedding I was joking. You didn’t ask him, did you?”

You let out a snort and it almost disrupts the peace of the evening. “Of course not. He offered.”

“I have never met a pair of people so fucking stupid in all my life.” 

“You’ve never met Hotch, idiot.” 

“Don’t have to,” Dean says. “I know you are you’re dumb enough for the both of you.” 

+++

When the dancing starts, you’re understandably resistant. The playlist is a playful mix of contemporary and classic music, and you can’t help but laugh when Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours) starts to play. 

Aaron stands and offers you his hand. You take his hand without thinking, belatedly realizing his intentions. 

“Hotch, you can’t be serious.” You stop dead in your tracks, but his grip on your fingers stays firm as he looks back at you with a look of humorous disbelief on his face. 

“When have you ever known me to be otherwise?” He tugs you forward, and you fall into his arms with a huff. “Humor me. Just one and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.” 

You glare at him, dubious. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m lying.” 

And at the end of the day, you can’t refuse him anything - especially when he smiles at you like that. 

He’s an excellent dancer. Your grip on his shoulder slowly loosens as you grow more comfortable, trusting him to lead you around the dance floor. He holds you tight, his movement playful in a way that’s almost foreign to you. 

You’ve seen him dance exactly once, at Haley’s 39th birthday party, the summer before she died. 

You catch sight of Austin and Madeline on the other side of the dance floor and avert your gaze when you find Austin looking back at you. 

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is low, almost a laugh.

Your eyes snap to Aaron’s. “What?”

“Relax.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you scoff. 

He rolls his eyes and throws you out by one arm, spinning you so your back is to his chest. “I’m plenty relaxed. You are tense.” 

The feeling of his heartbeat against your back ruins your resolve and you relent. “It just feels weird.”

“What does?” He spins you back out and pulls you close. You try not to be too distracted by the proximity of his face to yours when you land back against his chest, you hand resting over his heart.  

“I just -” you push through your reluctance and admit, “I don’t love him in that way anymore, but it’s super weird to even think that I could have ever thought he was it for me. And now he’s with someone he loves and both of our lives just...kept going after we split, you know?” You shake your head, scattering your thoughts. 

He nods. “I do.”

You believe him. The very concept of his heartbreak with Haley - the separation, the anger, the divorce, her death, the love - is overwhelming. You know he understands. 

The silence that lapses between you is comfortable. 

Yeah, I've done a lot of foolish things That I really didn't mean I could be a broken man Here I am, baby...

When he turns you under his arm, you laugh until you can’t breathe. There’s a smile on his face, too, and there’s something warm and inexplicable about it. You turn the tables on him, turning him under your arm and pulling him back to you.

The song changes to something slower and, true to his word, Aaron keeps you out on the dance floor. You’re exhausted all of a sudden, and your eyes close as you rest your head against his shoulder. 

“Thank you for being here with me.” 

You’re only sure you spoke aloud when Aaron replies, “Of course.”

+++

Your feet ache when you finally call it quits and head upstairs to your room for the night. Aaron’s suit jacket had long since left him, leaving him rolled sleeves and a loose tie with his top two buttons undone. It traveled from the back of his chair to where it now rests, slung over his arm.

You look over your shoulder as you slip your shoes off. “You look positively rumpled, Agent Hotchner.” 

He lets out a laugh, and it makes your breath catch. His laugh always takes you by surprise; it’s much brighter and higher than his speaking register, and frankly, adorable. “It’s past my bedtime.”

“You don’t have a bedtime.” And it was true - you could count on one hand the amount of times you’d known him to actually sleep, especially on a case. You could neither confirm nor deny that he even needed it to function prior to this weekend. 

The thought makes your cheeks a little warm, and you turn away from him, setting aside your pajamas and packing the rest of your items. 

There’s a little chuckle behind you before the bathroom door closes and the shower starts up. 

When Aaron leaves the bathroom, his hair wet and pajamas on, you’re asleep. Curled up on top of the covers, out like a light. 

He flips all the switches, leaving the room in darkness. Creeping to your side of the bed, he reaches over and pulls the covers down, gingerly shuffling your legs underneath, followed by your torso. You stir a little, and catch his hand as he moves to tuck your hands under the covers. 

His eyes close, just for a moment, before slipping his hand out of yours. He’s already dreading going back to his empty apartment tomorrow afternoon. 

That feeling is only amplified when you curl up against his chest as soon as he’s settled under the covers, your leg hooked over his. 

+++

You wake up warm again, and snuggle into the body beside you. Arms tighten around you, and you remember where you are and who you’re with. Unlike yesterday, you can’t pretend to be asleep - when you look up, Hotch is awake, brown eyes looking down at you. 

“Good morning,” he says. 

You tuck your face back into his chest. “I’m sorry - I’m clingy when I sleep.” 

His laugh sings over the crown of your head. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.” 

Don't read into that. 

I’m going to. 

Don’t. 

Fuck. 

“What time is it?” You crane your neck and look at the clock on his bedside table, but you can’t quite see with his arm in the way. 

“Just before nine. We have an hour before checkout. Want to get packed, grab some breakfast, and head out? I’ll drive.”

“You drove here.” You shove at him and sit up. 

He shrugs and you take a moment to admire the tousled, floppy state of his hair. “I like driving.” 

“I won’t argue with that.” 

You sigh, stretch, stand and start rolling. You brush your teeth (twice) and put your clothes back into your suitcase, zipping it up without much trouble. He, of course, takes it off your hands right away and brings the bags to the car while you take care of checkout. 

He meets you outside, sunglasses on, and the sun hits his hair. You can see all the nuances in the black - the touch of silver, the dark browns and reds. They all seem to make a halo around him in the sunshine. “Ready?”

You snap back to attention and give him a wide smile. “Yes, sir!” 

Breakfast is an eventful affair. As soon as you sit down, you get a call from Penelope. 

“Hey, Pen, what’s up?” You look across the table at Hotch with amusement in your eyes, and he smiles, still digging into his eggs benedict like a starving man. 

“Tell me everything.”

“Oh, well we’re just at breakfast, almost on our way back. My laptop is in the car, can I take a look at that for you when I get home?” 

Not now, Penelope, I’ll call you when I’m home. 

She hums, following right away. “You better give me every single detail as soon as you step through the door or I swear I’ll riot.”

With a laugh, you reply, “Of course. You know, it might be easier if you just stop by - I’ll text you when I get home and we can do dinner or something.” You push your food around your plate, trying to ignore the fact that the only person you actually want to have dinner with is right across from you.

“Perfect. Yeah, just text me when you get home babycakes. Can’t wait!” She hangs up promptly, and your eyebrows raise for a half second. 

You put your phone away and shake your head. “She’s very predictable.” 

He nods, looking at you from under his brows. “Indeed.” 

You both continue to dig into your food, not realizing how hungry you are from all your antics the night before. His phone rings next, and it’s Jack. 

“Hey bud!” 

There’s nothing better than the way his voice transforms when he speaks to his son. You hear your name and return your attention to his conversation. 

“...we’re at a wedding this weekend, remember? We got to go to a big party last night, and we’re driving home today… Yeah,” he looks at you, “we did have a lot of fun… I’m so glad you had a good time with Aunt Jess and the Brooks cousins this weekend… You got to go ice fishing? That’s so exciting! Did Grandpa take you?... Awesome, bud… Sounds good, I’ll call you when I get home, okay?... I love you too.”

When he puts his phone away, you ask, “How’s he doing?”

“It’ll be a fight to get him home, that’s for sure.” 

You take another bite of your food. “How are things with Haley’s family? Any better?”

“Not at all. I’m not sure there’s much I can do, at this point. Jess does what she can, but her dad is… not a fan of mine.” There’s a kind of sadness in his eyes, and you almost regret asking.

“I know you know this, but none of this is your fault.” You look into him and hope he can see the sincerity in your eyes, hear it in your voice. 

He thinks for a moment, and you’re almost nervous he’s going to disagree (it’s happened before), but he just meets your eyes and says, “Thank you.”

+++

Hotch lets you pick the music on the way home, and doesn’t say a word when you sing along (sometimes good, sometimes bad). He does occasionally smile a little secret smile to himself, which makes your heart skip around in your chest. 

At a certain point, you turn the music off and sit back in your seat. 

As usual, Aaron knows you’re going to say something long before you say it. “Yes?” 

“I know I keep saying this, but thank you for coming with me this weekend.” Your body shifts toward him, and you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his profile. 

“You’re welcome.” He glances at you before looking back at the road. “Thank you for trusting me not to embarrass you in front of people you haven’t seen in almost ten years.” 

You smile a kind of lopsided sort of smile. “You could never embarrass me.”

He frowns playfully. “That’s not true.” 

“You are exceedingly upstanding, and you just got your hair cut, so the odds are in my favor.” 

“Hey!” He self-consciously runs a hand over the back of his hair. You reach over to shove at his shoulder and you’re rewarded with a laugh. 

“I’m kidding! I like it long.” You look over fondly at him. “It was longer when I first met you, remember?” You’re not sure why you continue, but you do nevertheless. “You started keeping it shorter after the div - well, after.” 

He quirks his brow, the corners of his lips upturned just the smallest amount. “Nobody ever accused you of being unobservant.” 

You grin widely at him and turn the radio back on. 

+++

You’ve never been more disappointed to see your own driveway in your whole life. Hotch pulls in and turns the ignition off, and you sit in silence for a minute. 

There’s so much to think about, and most of it is at least a little uncomfortable. Of course you’re in love with him and he’s your favorite person (and that’s bad enough), but that is even harder to stomach now that you have to go back into the real world. 

It’s easy to pretend that it was real, that it wasn’t just for show to make you feel less awful about the direction of your love life. If anything, now that you’re home, you feel even worse. 

The only person you want is seemingly the only person you can’t have. There’s something so unattainable about Hotch. You’re not sure if it’s his stern exterior or his age or his role, or if it has more to do with how devastatingly handsome he is, but it’s something. 

Aaron wishes he could do anything else, than leave you here at home. Nevertheless, he sighs and gets out of the car. You follow him around back, though you’re not really sure why - he takes your suitcase and insists on carrying it all the way to the door. 

You stand there, fumbling with your keys, feeling more and more like a character in a romantic comedy with every passing second. Aaron sets your suitcase on the ground and covers your hands with his. You look up at him, and he leans toward you, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Thank you for inviting me.” 

All you can do is nod, with a tight, closed-mouth smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says

“Bye, Hotch,” you call to him as he trots back to the car. “Thanks again.” 

He turns toward you, puts his sunglasses on, opens the door, and says, “Anytime.” 

You wave with the tips of your fingers and slide into your house. Your back to do the door, you slide down to the floor and cover your face with your hands. 

Fuck. 

tagged: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @vintagecaptainspidey​ @micaiahmoonheart​ @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass​ @marvels-agents100​ @newtslatte​ @risenfox ​@mrs-dr-reid​ @captain-christopher-pike​ @joemazzello-imagines​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @sebbybaby0​ @pan-pride-12​ @hotchlinebling​ @lee-rin-ah ​@sunshine-em​ @word-scribbless ​@jdougl-love​ @sageellsworth05​ @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky​ @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @zizzlekwum @lcvischmitt

[lostinthewiind]

3AM in the City

Tetsurō Kuroo - Haikyuu

Synopsis: after high school, you don’t see Kuroo as much as you used to, and not nearly as much as you would like. The only exception is when he calls you up at 3AM to go for a drive—an offer you never turn down; and tonight’s events are exactly why you don’t. 

Rating: PG

Warnings: some kissing, nothing you haven’t seen in the movies before kids. A little angsty if you squint?

As far as you knew, it was just another Friday night you would be spending at home alone, which you didn’t mind in the slightest. As much as you enjoyed going out just as much as the next person, you still knew how to appreciate a quiet night in by yourself.

Scrolling through your phone, the bright, white light illuminating your face in the otherwise pitch black room, you glanced up at the corner of the small device in your hands and took noticed of the time. 3AM. 

Letting out a yawn, almost as if in response to realizing just how late it was, you shifted in bed a little, trying to decide if you should try to get some sleep or keep mindlessly prowling social media for a little while longer.

Before you could make up your mind, however, a notification for an incoming phone call took over your entire screen, startling you a little more than you would like to admit. A small smile toyed at the corners of your mouth as you read the caller ID and answered the call.

“Hello?” You pressed the phone to your ear and sighed, body ready to climb out of bed. You already knew why he was calling . . . it was the only reason he called anymore.

“Hey.” His voice was smooth and casual over the phone, indicating that he hadn’t just woken up, meaning he hadn’t slept at all yet; which wasn’t exactly uncharacteristic of Kuroo. “Did I wake you?”

You shook your head instinctively, even though he couldn’t see it. “No,” you answered. “Just lying in bed.”

There was a short pause before he spoke again. “Wanna go for a drive?”

You had already known before you answered the phone that you would be saying yes to his proposition, but instead of responding right away, you hummed softly, pretending to think about it—pretending you weren’t as eager to see him as you actually were.

“Sure.” You swung your legs over the side of your bed and started searching for some clothes in the dark, unwilling to turn on the bright overhead light and ruin the late-night trance that you enjoyed so much. 

“Meet you in ten,” he said before hanging up. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, even though he was no longer on the other line. Thankfully, you knew this was just the way that Kuroo was—he was just bad at talking over the phone—but you still wished he sounded even a little excited to see you after so long.

Pulling on the same outfit you had been wearing that day, purely because they were sitting at the end of your bed and had been easy to find, you tucked your phone into your pocket and fixed yourself up a little before heading out the door. 

Like always, you waited at the street corner for Kuroo to drive up and pick you up. When he arrived almost exactly ten minutes after he had ended the phone call, you jumped into the passenger’s seat of the incredibly expensive and lavish car he drove. That vehicle was his pride and joy and sometimes you were honestly surprised he even let you inside of it considering how little he seemed to care about you lately.

Before you could even get your seat belt on, he was speeding away from the curb and heading out of your neighbourhood. Glancing over at the man you used to consider your best friend, you noticed the creases between his brows and the way his lips stretched into a thin, tight line. Something was bothering him, but then again, he didn’t ask you to accompany him on mindless cruises at 3AM when all was well in his life.

Knowing that it would be a couple of minutes before he warmed up to your presence and wanted to talk, you turned up the radio and watched the scenery pass by out the window. In the distance, you could see the glowing lights of downtown Tokyo, the bustling hub of the city that you usually avoided due to how busy and crowded it was. 

The city in the middle of the night was a completely different story, however. Maybe it was the way the many colourful advertisements and store signs illuminated the dark night sky, or maybe it was the way the streets emptied out enough for the overwhelming aura to dissipate just enough, but driving through the streets at night brought you a sense of euphoric calm that simply couldn’t be obtained during daylight.

Looking back at Kuroo, you took note of how his face had relaxed, even if just a little. You watched his hands tense around the steering wheel, griping tight before relaxing and tapping his fingers against the leather. Feeling your eyes on him, he finally looked over at you and acknowledged your presence.

“How have you been?” he asked seemingly out of nowhere, as if he just realized he would have to make conversation with you eventually.

Your heart fluttered slightly, joy spreading through you at the thought that he genuinely cared about how you were doing. “Fine, thank you,” you told him. “And you?”

“Okay,” he lied. You knew it was a lie, because even though he had changed drastically since high school, he was still just as bad at bending the truth, especially when it came to you.

“That’s good.” You rested your head against the window and observed the passing buildings and how they grew taller and taller the further into the city Kuroo drove.

As silence consumed the inside of the car once more, you became keenly aware of the music playing in the background; so, when a certain song that brought back a lot of memories started playing, you noticed it before Kuroo. 

Your eyes widened a little as you looked from the radio to Kuroo, waiting to see if he remembered it as well—hoping he remembered it. 

Feeling your eyes on him once more, he cocked a dark brow in your direction. “What?”

“This song.” You gestured lazily to the speaker. “Do you remember it?”

Kuroo chewed on his bottom lip as he listened, and for a moment, you thought he had actually forgotten. Then, a wondrous smile spread across his dimly lit face and he nodded. “Yeah, course I remember.” His spirits seemed to have increased ten-fold. “You always insisted we play it, and every time we did, you would sing every single word. Without fail. Every. Single. Time.” 

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “What can I say? It’s a good song.” You turned up the volume a couple more notches. 

This time, when the conversation ceased, the vehicle wasn’t filled to the brim with thick tension. Instead, you found yourself thinking back to your days in high school—those incredible three years that you would give anything in the world to return to. Back then, you and Kuroo had been nearly inseparable. Back then, you hadn’t had to fight for his attention.

Back then, you genuinely felt like he wanted to be around you.

Looking to your former-friend and now casual acquaintance, you watched him carefully as he drove, his eyes glued to the road in front of himself. You wondered what had happened. What had gone so wrong that he felt the need to distance himself from you? Had you done something to push him away . . . or was that just the way high school friendships played out?

The question as to what series of events had taken place to get you to where you were now was one that you were unable to answer. The only thing you knew for sure was that you missed Kuroo . . . more than you probably should, but you missed him nevertheless.

Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, either from the inspiring city lights or the nostalgic song, or maybe both, you shifted in your seat to face the man beside you and cleared your throat. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?” you asked matter-of-factly.

Kuroo glanced over at you for a split-second, blinking a few times in response. He was clearly taken aback by your sudden and direct inquiry, and you completely expected him to ignore you altogether or change the subject. What you didn’t expect was for him to turn into the nearest parking lot, park the car, and let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Worry and curiosity coursing through your veins, you sat silent and still, waiting for him to speak or move or do anything.

“I feel lost,” he finally said, his line of sight falling to his lap. There was a pause, and you were unsure if he was going to elaborate more or leave it at that. When you opened your mouth to respond, however, he continued. “Work takes up all of my time . . . so much so that I’m starting to realize I’ve cut ties with everyone I used to know without even noticing it; not until it was too late. And the worst part is, work isn’t even going well. This corporate ladder bullshit is way harder than I ever imagined. I feel stupid for throwing away everything I had for something I might not ever be able to obtain . . . for something I don’t even enjoy. It feels like it’s all for nothing.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. Kuroo had never been that open about his feelings with you before; not unless you had pried for days-on-end or he was plastered drunk. 

You were unsure how to respond at first, so you did what you usually did when people came to you with a problem; you tried to put yourself in their shoes and then give the advice you thought you would want to hear.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not all for nothing,” you told him. “You didn’t get into business because you hated it. Sure, maybe the spark is a little dimmer right now or you’re going through a really rough patch . . . but don’t doubt yourself over one little bump in the road.”

Slowly, Kuroo turned his head toward you, his dark eyes landing on you for more than a few seconds for the first time that night. “But how do I know if it’s worth throwing everything else away over?”

“It’s not,” you said simply. “No job is worth throwing everything else in your life away over. But the best part is, you don’t have to choose between a career and a social life, and anyone who says you do is just plain lazy or insanely bad at time management.”

Kuroo cracked a smile at that and a puff of air that could be interpreted as a soft laugh passed his lips. 

“So my advice is just try to do better from here on out.” You smiled back. “Everyone has a hard time every once in a while. If the people in your life truly care about you, they will understand.”

“Do you understand?” he asked.

This time, you didn’t hesitate at all. There was no need to play coy or pretend like you cared less than you really did. “I do.” You nodded. “I’ve missed you.”

Kuroo’s eyes softened and his small smile faltered for half a beat. “I’ve missed you too.” 

Before you knew what was happening, Kuroo’s large hand was caressing your cheek and his lips were pressed against yours. Even though it was the middle of the night, you swore your entire world lit up at that moment. You had known you had wanted your best friend back, but this was so much better. This was more than you could have ever hoped for.

“I’ve been horrible to you.” Kuroo whispered against your lips, his fingertips trailing down the side of your neck and sending shivers up your spine. “I know this is a lot to ask . . . but can you ever forgive me?”

“Just promise to call me more than once a month . . . and maybe during the day sometimes,” you chuckled. 

He laughed, his hot breath warming your face. “I can do that.”

“Then yes, I forgive you.”

[gukvante]

the gym selfie

— pairing: namjoon x reader

— genre: slice of life, smut

— rating: nsfw

— words: 1.5k+

— note: ngl, this was completely self-indulgent and based off of this selfie namjoon posted :O also, a disclaimer, i do not own the picture of namjoon used in my banner. happy reading further <3

— warnings: explicit/detailed sexual intercourse, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, daddy kink, cum eating, oral (m receiving), some good ol’ face fucking, some praise sprinkled with a little degrading, established relationship

— summary: Namjoon posts a gym selfie and it got you feeling some type of way.

masterlist

© gukvante —all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any medium is not permitted. 

You huffed staring down at the last text you had sent Namjoon. No response. You had sent him a text asking if he wanted to meet up for lunch since you were in the area but to no avail. 

You were about to give up hope of getting to go on a cute little lunch date with your boyfriend when your phone vibrated. It was a notification letting you know that Namjoon had just posted on Weverse. 

You huffed in slight annoyance that he had time to post but not respond to your text messages. 

Tapping on the notification to open the post, you watched as it loaded for a few seconds before you were met with the most delicious sight. 

You eyes widened slightly, your jaw going slack. Namjoon had posted a picture, a workout picture to be precise. The sleeveless top he wore showed off his defined arms and strong shoulders.

It was like your hands had a mind of their own as you zoomed in further to closely inspect his long fingers. Something about the way he gripped the phone had your breath hitching.

You were snapped back into reality when someone accidentally bumped into you. It was only then that you remembered that you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. 

Quickly apologising to the stranger and wishing them a pleasant day further, you all but sprinted to sit on a nearby bench. You checked your surroundings again to make sure no one was watching you perv on your delectable boyfriend. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, somewhat preparing yourself. Once you felt you were ready to continue, your eyes snapped back to the screen. Heat spread across your cheeks as your eyes trailed lower.

Namjoon was sporting gym shorts that exposed a  little bit of his muscular thighs. You frowned slightly when you realised the angle of the picture hid his bulge. Just as you were about to zoom in closer, your ringtone cut through the air. 

Your face flushed as you read the caller ID, Namjoon. With shaky hands, you held the phone up to your ear. “H-Hello?” Your voice crocked.

“Hi, baby. Sorry for not answering your texts, I was working out.” Namjoon’s smooth voice seemed to send your body into overdrive. Rubbing your thighs together, you cleared your throat before answering.

“I-I know.” You stuttered. What was going on with you? You’ve seen him naked plenty of times, why was this one picture affecting you so much? 

“Are you okay, princess? You sound a bit off.” Namjoon asked, his voice full of concern. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you answered again.

“I’m fine! Just a bit . . . winded . . . I guess.” You fiddled with your fingers as you waited for his response. 

“Well, I would love to grab some lunch with you. I just have to pack up a few things and take a quick shower. I should be done in the next twenty minutes or so.” You nodded in agreement, getting ready to hang up. 

“Baby? You still there?” Namjoon asked, confused. 

“Yes! Yes, I am. Sorry, I completely forgot we were on a phone call and nodded like a dumbass! You probably think I’m so–” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Are you sure you’re okay?” He questioned again, concerned something might have happened. 

“Yes, I’m great! D-Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon?” 

“I’ll see you soon, kitten.”

Hanging up, you let out a deep sigh before standing up and walking in the direction of BigHit. 

Once you were inside the building, you hastily made your way up to the dressing rooms. Upon your arrival, you were met with Yoongi, who seemed to be on his way out. 

“Yoongi! Hey! How are you?” You called, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Ah, y/n! Can’t complain, you?” Yoongi smiled as he acknowledged you. 

“I’m great! Thanks for asking. Do you perhaps know where I can find Namjoon?” You reached into your pocket, ready to pull your phone out to call him if Yoongi didn’t know where he was. 

Yoongi nodded, pointing in the direction of the showers before turning to leave again. “It was nice seeing you, y/n. Enjoy your time with Joon!” Yoongi smirked over his shoulder as he walked out the room. 

Your face erupted at the innuendo, shaking your head. Letting out another sigh, you moved to put your things down. Closing your eyes, you took one last deep breath before nodding and making your way into the shower room. 

You could hear the water running and Namjoon humming softly to himself. Deciding not to announce your arrival, you slowly started removing your clothes. 

You placed your clothes next to Namjoon’s before reaching out to pull back the shower curtain. Namjoon was quick to turn around in shock, almost slipping in the process. 

“Baby? Geez, you scared me!” He chuckled. “What are you do–” it was only then that he realised that you were butt-naked. His eyes seemed to darken as they roamed over your body, taking in every dip and curve. 

“Don’t worry about me, just stand back and enjoy.” You winked. Namjoon cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow raising. 

Walking further into the shower, you slowly and carefully dropped to your knees. Pushing your hair from your face, you tilted your head to look him in the eye.

“Please let me suck your cock, daddy?” You pleaded, batting your eyelashes to seal the deal. 

“Go ahead, kitten.” Namjoon said, his jaw clenching. Breaking eye contact, you came face to face with his girthy length. 

Your mouth watered at the sight. He was fully erect, his tip a deep pink. Lifting a hand, you wrapped it around his base. Your fingers barely touched, your pussy fluttering from the realisation. 

Learning forward, you placed soft kisses all over the underside of his cock. Namjoon huffed, glaring down at you and reached a hand out to grip your hair. 

“Now, now, babygirl. Who said you could tease daddy?” He’s jaw was clenched in annoyance as he grinded his teeth together. You eyes widened at his serious expression. 

“That’s what I thought. Now, be a good little cockslut and let daddy fuck your greedy throat.” 

You let your mouth fall open in obedience, anything for Namjoon. His free hand dropped to replace yours at the base of his cock. 

“Stick your tongue out, pretty girl.” Namjoon’s voice seemed to deepen and gain a certain raspiness to it. 

Your tongue lolled out your mouth, completely submitting to him. Namjoon smirked before rubbing his tip against your tongue. “Suck.” He huffed. Complying, you wrapped your lips around his cockhead. 

Namjoon let out a growl as he watched you suck on him while maintaining eye contact. He let suckle on him a little longer, his breathing becoming laboured. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck your throat now. Okay, angel?” On cue, he started steadily inching his fat cock down your throat. Breathing through your nose, you tried your best to relax your throat to allow him in further. 

Namjoon let out a loud groan, throwing his head back. He pulled back slightly before thrusting back in again. He kept the slow pace for a minute or two before he reach down to lightly grip your throat while his other hand tightened its grip on your hair. 

Drawing his hips back, he was quick to pick up the pace. Your eyes rolled back as his cock slid deeper with every thrust. 

Tears started to form in your eyes as Namjoon continued to abuse your throat. He was panting now, his hips frantically chasing sweet release. Namjoon pulled out with a deep groan. 

“You still good, baby?” He rasped. You nodded, taking a few deep breaths before moving to take him again. Namjoon all but growled. 

He picked up right where he left off, leaning over slightly to reach even deeper down your throat. The room was filled with the sound of wet squelching and Namjoon’s deep groans. 

Lifting a hand, you cupped his balls, squeezing gently. Namjoon moaned, his hips stuttering. “Keep doing that, kitten. ‘m so close.” 

Adding more pressure, you continued to massage his balls. His thrusts becoming sloppier. Namjoon threw his head back as he moaned out your name. 

“I’m gonna cum and you’re gonna swallow it like good little cumslut.” He growled out, his hips speeding up. 

He pulled your head all the way to his base, placing a hand on either side of your face to hold your head in place. He let out one last groan before he emptied his load down your throat. 

You tried your best to swallow like he instructed but it was too much and some of it dripped down your chin. Namjoon gently pulled out. He let out a satisfied sigh before staring down at you. 

He reached down, wiping away a stray tear. He smiled sweetly, caressing your face. You leaned your head against his hand as you stared up at him lovingly.

“It’s your turn now, kitten.” 

[milliedazzledust]

War Rages On: part 2 (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Words: 3234

A/N: Still don’t know where I’m going with this story but I’m really having fun writing this and I hope you’ll like it! Don’t forget to tell me if you want to be tag for the next parts :)

Previously: part 1

Steve had found Bucky deep in the forest of Wakanda. Escorted by the kind T’Challa, he led him to the man they called the White Wolf. He had found his redemption away from mankind. Surrounded by trees and animals, Y/N and him had lived a simple life inside their cottage up until that moment. Before this, Steve had no intention to bring them back. He had planned to come visit the couple but most importantly to let them have their happy ending, to keep them from monsters that had tried so many times to tore them apart. He couldn’t imagine two people more deserving of peace than them. The King of Wakanda had outdone himself to make sure this was achievable.

“Do you remember the last time you saw her ?” Steve asked him.

Bucky sat on a rock near a river, hastily ruffling his hair.

“She left a couple days ago” He recounted. “She had a message from Stark on the burner phone you gave her”

“What did it say ?”

“Need your help asap - Romanoff compromised. An address was attached”

He got worried when he saw Steve dropping his head and rubbing his eyes in frustration. He had known him long enough to guess something was bothering him.

“Buck’, Tony didn’t send anything.” The Soldier confessed.

“What do you mean ?”

The familiar sensation of anxiety started to form in the pit of his stomach despite the lack of information. He knew he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear.

“I don’t know what happened, but somebody pretending to be him wrote that message”

“That’s impossible” He shook his head, refusing to believe him.

“Buck’ ..”

“She left, Steve. She left to go help him” He vehemently cut him. He stood up and started pacing. His friend could see his whole demeanor slowly shifting. “If she’s not with Stark, then where is she ?!”

“I don’t know” The Captain replied. Admitting it to his friend was almost too painful.

“Have you talk to the others ? Do they know anything ?”

He was looking more and more like a madman. His body had already understood what his mind failed to grasp.

“She send Sam an SOS”

“What ?” He said it in a whisper, instantaneously freezing on the spot.

“Bucky, I’m sorry but she’s missing”

“She can’t be” He felt the panic beginning to creep into his chest.

He turned back to look at his friend.

“That’s not … She said she’d be back” He explained, as if it would make perfect sense that she couldn’t be gone, as if that promise had been enough to keep her safe “.. She … She always comes back to me”

He dropped on the floor, the captain barely had enough time to catch him. His breathing became more rapid, more shallow. He felt it hit him like a hurricane. There was a logical explanation, but the only one he could think of was worst than any nightmare.

“Steve if it’s …” He suddenly sounded alarmed.

“It might not be” The Captain answered. He didn’t know which one of them he was trying to convince the most.

“Who else ?”

His friend stayed silent. His mind couldn’t wrapped around the fact that this could be happening, that they were potentially facing another threat.

“They’re still after me” The Sergeant muttered. “It’d make sense”

“Even if it’s Hydra, we’ll still find her” Steve promised.

“What if it’s too late ?” Bucky dared to think about that possibility, his eyes drifting into space.

“It’s not”

The soldier put a comforting hand on the Sergeant’s shoulder. When he glanced up at him, he saw the reassurance he so desperately needed. He knew this look by heart, he had seen it so many time on Steve’s face growing up. He had that same determination every time he went on to fight someone twice his size, the confidence and fierceness that had built Captain America.

“C’mon, get up.” He ordered with force. “We’re gonna find her”

He silently followed him, his mind running a mile an hour. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt so vulnerable. The mere thought of her somewhere with Hydra was enough to reopen his deepest wounds. He knew what they were capable of, he had lived through the endless torture for years and to picture a fraction of it being done on her was too much.

Steve had taken him to a jet. After several hours of flight, they had landed in a location he didn’t recognize. The place looked like headquarters, abandoned in the middle of nowhere. They were surrounded by large trees. When they walked out of the plane, Bucky recognized the distinct sent of mint and pine mixed together. He glanced around, trying to find a clue as to where they were, but all he could see was the woods. No other indication.

“What is this place ?” He asked Steve as they walk inside the building.

Before his friend could answer he heard another voice speaking, the sound resonating on the walls.

“Secure location not far from Warsaw, outside of the radars”

Bucky didn’t hide his surprise when he found himself face to face with Tony Stark. The billionaire saw him tense, his body instinctively going into defense mode.

“At ease, soldier” He sighed. “We’re not here to fight”

Still he didn’t ushered a word and looked back and forth between the two men in front of him.  After what had happened between them before he found shelter in Wakanda, he wasn’t sure how to behave around Stark.

“Have you find anything ?” Steve inquired, folding his hands behind his back.

“Sam checked the address you sent me” Stark started to explain. “We were about to take a look at the security footage”

He guided the soldiers to a room that seemed like it had been restored at the last minute. There was a violent contrast between the dust on the floor, the half broken chairs and the high-tech computers Tony had most likely installed. It definitely looked like a hideout. He first noticed Natasha Romanoff leaning on the large table at the center of the room. She was studying a file. Next to her was Sam Wilson, scrolling on a tablet he was holding with intense concentration.

Steve greeted both of them with a simple nod and Bucky noticed the side looks he was being given but chose to not acknowledge them. Stark started to type on his computer and the enormous screen he had placed on one of the wall turned itself on.  

“Here’s what we know so far” Tony told them.

Bucky recognized a screenshot of the message sent to Y/N on the burner phone, the very same one he was carrying in his pocket.

“I was not able to trace the id or the location”

As he spoke, Stark watched the Sergeant from the corner of his eyes taking a sit on a half torn armchair.

“But whomever send this was pretending to be me”

“How were they able to get her number ? Only you and I are supposed to have that information” Steve interrogated.

“I’m getting there, Captain.” Tony answered. “Somebody infiltrated my system and discreetly hijacked it to get into classified data”

The Sergeant suddenly raised his head and with a flick of the fingers, Stark projected details of his firewall system on the screen.

“They left a trail. Sloppy work if you ask me”

“Get to the point, Tony” Natasha reminded him.

The man rolled his eyes before continuing his explanations.

“They searched through every files I have on Barnes. What they were looking for exactly? I don’t know, but I have a vague idea”

“My location” Bucky whispered.

“Bingo. They were after you, and when they realized I was smart enough not to put any compromising informations, they moved to plan B”

“What’s plan B ?” Sam severely asked.

“If you can’t find the Winter Soldier, then let him find you.” Stark directly offered the hypothesis.

“They’re using Y/N as leverage” Steve finally understood.

“Exactly”

Bucky rubbed his eyes in frustration. This was looking more and more like Hydra’s modus operandi.

“Who is they ?” Romanoff questioned.

“I might have an answer to that” Sam replied, waving his tablet. “I found something on the security footage”

A video without sound started playing and instantly Bucky stood up. His eyes traveling from one corner of the screen to the other, he was closely studying every movement. Whomever was doing this had smartly brought the woman in the middle of the city and away from any camera that could incriminate them.

“Y/N is waiting in the corner of the street, then this man approaches her. She takes a step back, probably figured out something was wrong.” The Falcon explained. “All we can see is her reaching for her phone behind her back, which we know now was to send an SOS”

“Any identification on the guy ?” Natasha inquired.

“No. He stayed hidden from the cameras. He knew exactly where they were”

“Why didn’t she attack ?” Tony pondered. “She could have taken him easily”

“Busy street” Bucky answered mechanically. “If you want somebody to comply, lure them in the middle of a crowd. One move and someone else die. Works all the time”

“Of course you’d know about that” The billionaire muttered under his breath.

Steve hadn’t talk yet. His eyes were glued to the screen. Something wasn’t adding up and he didn’t know what. He watched the video playing four times, his hands on his hips, deep in concentration.

“Rewind it” He ordered Sam.

The man didn’t question the request and did as he was told. Shape after shape the Captain analyzed every detail until the information he was missing was right in front of him.

“Stop there”

The video froze and they stared at the frame, trying to figure out what he was seeing.

“What is it, Steve ?” The Russian spy inquired.

“Can you zoom in ?” He asked, ignoring the first question.

Tony took the tablet in his hand and started to play with it.

“What am I looking for ?”

“His neck” He simply said. “He has a tattoo”

His friend raised an eyebrow in surprise, but got to work. Typing on his keyboard, he cut the video’s frame, zoomed in and used a program to polish the picture and create a clear image of the ink on the man’s body.

As soon as Bucky saw it, he felt a cold shiver running down his spine. What he feared the most had only been theoretical until then, there was still a slight hope he was wrong, a one percent chance he was holding onto that he wasn’t living his worst nightmare. And all that came crashing down when he recognized the pattern of a skull he knew by heart.

“No..No, no, no, no” He kept repeating, pacing around the room, panic striking in his veins. “This is not happening, this is not…”

The Captain stopped him in his track, putting his hands on his shoulders.

“Buck’ ..”

“They have her, Steve. They have Y/N” He was terrified, and his friend could clearly hear it in his voice.

The others were following their interaction, not yet understanding what was happening. Steve raised his head, still holding his brother emotionally breaking apart, and looked at them with an alarmed expression that did nothing to ease their worry.

“We had our suspicion on who might have pulled up something like this » He told them. « Frankly, I was hoping we were wrong”

“Who is it ?” Romanoff demanded.

“…Hydra” Bucky murmured, his head low and his human hand shaking.

They all tensed in the room and the silence that followed was frightening.

“Are you sure ?” The Falcon asked.

Steve stared at the projecting image on the wall, pursing his lips.

“Yes, Sam. It’s them” He answered with a heavy voice filled with concern.

Bucky felt the tears on his cheeks before he realized he was crying. His breathing had become unsteady and he was slowly faltering. He quickly excused himself and left the building. He needed the air.

He was trying so hard not to panic but he seemed paralyzed. There was suddenly a menacing aura around him, holding him in a tightening grip. He could feel his temperature rising, a clear sign of his anxiety, his fear. It was a living force creeping over him like a hungry beast, fed by the agonizing possibility he might lose her. He started to take shaky small breath, like Y/N had taught him every time he had a panic attack, but without her to guide him, it was useless. His pulse was beating in his ears, blocking all the other sounds, and he was sweating. There was a lump in his throat, an emotion so large it was aching to be released. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to beg for mercy. Alas, he closed his eyes, trying to focus his senses on one thing only, find her.

And just as the thought crossed his mind, he felt the tiny device he had in his pocket vibrate. He took his phone out, but nothing was displayed on the screen. Then he realized it wasn’t the right one. Fishing in his pants, he found was he was looking for and grabbed the burner phone. One message. When he opened it, the color quickly drained from his face.

« She won’t stay alive for long, unless you come home. Not Romania, not Brooklyn, your real home. No Avenger. You know the consequences of disobedience »

Attached to it was a photo. His heart stopped and his metal fist clenched the phone so hard he accidentally broke it when he saw the picture of the woman he loved, arms chained on a ceiling, body dangling in the air and covered in blood. He absently stared at his hands, thinking back to their time in Wakanda, in peace, away from the world. Just the two of them. What a difference a couple of days could make. He knew what he wanted to do. There was not an ounce of hesitation in him, only the desire to make sure she would make it out of there alive.

So engrossed in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear someone creeping in behind him. Natasha silently stood next to him. Was it out of pity or emotional support, he couldn’t tell. She observed him for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows like she was trying to read him, before she turned back to look at the sky.

“You know where she is”

It wasn’t a question but a statement.

“What makes you say that ?”

“Two fossils from the 1930’s with the same instinct of preservation and the same tendencies to make stupid decisions based on emotions. Not exactly hard to put two and two together. You and Steve have a lot in common”

He pursed his lips.

“Are you gonna tell them ?” He asked, looking back at the abandoned building.

“Still debating.” She admitted. “You’re not really stupid, Barnes. You know you can’t take them all by yourself”

“That wasn’t my intention”

“Then what’s your plan ?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to, she could see it in his whole demeanor. It was in the way he stood up straight, in the way he was clenching his jaw, in the way his eyes held so much determination and purpose.

“You don’t intend on coming back, do you ?”

“I can’t let them kill her” He explained.

“A suicide mission is by far the most stupid idea you could come up with”

“It’s the only one I’ve got” He replied, resigned.

He turned to look at her. The calmness he was displaying was enough to know he had made up his mind and honestly, it frightened her.

“I don’t think you know how much she means to me, Natasha. I don’t deserve her love, I really don’t, but somehow she saw something worth fighting for in me. She saw all the cracks, all the flaws and all the mistakes I’ve made and she didn’t run. She stood by my side and fought for me. She’s my sanity. She’s all the good that’s left in me. She’s the name I whisper when I’m scared my memories are fading. I can’t take the risk to lose her because if that happens, I’ll lose myself and there will be no come back this time”

The lump in his throat prevented him from saying anything more and he gulped, trying to make the feeling of anxiety subside.

“Whatever it takes, and whatever I’ll have to do, I swear she will get out of there alive” He nodded to no one in particular, a silent and simple sign he would not change his mind.

“At what cost ? What are we suppose to tell her when you won’t be here anymore ?”

“That I fought for her the same way she did for me”

His response shut her up. His voice held so much serenity and resolve she knew it would be useless to argue. She understood where he was coming from, just like she understood the sacrifice he was ready to make.

“There’s a version of this where we win, Barnes. Keep that in mind. It doesn’t have to end in pain or worse. Fight with everything you’ve got and don’t stop until both of you are safe”

He sadly smiled.

“You’ve definitely spent too much time with Steve”

She rolled her eyes before turning to stand in front of him. She hesitated a moment, words on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m sorry this is happening” She gloomily confessed. “But you know why they want you, right ?”

“The Winter Soldier” He replied, closing his eyes. “They want him back”

“Just so we’re clear here, Bucky, and just in case, you have to be aware that the moment you’ll get there, they will torture you to get him back. Your mind is already damaged, you won’t hold long”

“I just need to hold long enough to get her out of there” He vehemently assured her, gritting his teeth.

“Your plan is to walk out with her” She reminded him, insisting on the words.

He glanced down at her and judging by the look in his eyes, she knew what he was about to ask her before he even spoke.

“If it comes to the worse, if I become … him again …” He started.

“I know” She cut him. He didn’t need to say the word, she knew thinking about it was already more than enough pain for him.

She stood there, watched him get into the jet him and Steve had taken to get there, and did nothing. It was useless to try to convince him to stay, he was too stubborn to listen. And she knew this was his best shot at getting back the woman he loved alive. She was aware Hydra would not spare the lovers and she prayed they were ready for the fight that was ahead of them. The Avengers would find them eventually, hopefully before it was too late. She turned around when she saw the jet flying in the air and walked silently back inside the building. She would keep that conversation and the promise she had made a secret, and hope whatever Bucky had planned, it would be enough to prevent the worse from happening.

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