#and i only wanna talk it through with plenty of air to do so with the screenshots i have

[markiemelon]

hiii, can you do something with jaemin? like a college friends to lovers?

breakfast

genre. fluff, crack 🍞

pairings. jaemin x gn!reader

falling asleep at your friend!jaemin’s place wasn’t your intention.. yet, there you were, knocked out on the couch. you eventually woke up, disoriented and sore, while the smell of burnt toast polluted the air. on the other side of the open room, jaemin stood behind the kitchen counter, preoccupied with scraping char off the bread slices. he perked his head up once he heard you rustling around. “oh. you’re up.”

“what time is it?” you yawned, reaching for your phone, only to find it cold and dead.

“it’s like 10 or something—” his tone was casual, and it threw you off.

“jaemin!” you jumped to your feet. “i had a class at 9!” you continued, “i told you to wake me up if i ever fell asleep here again!” you ran to the bathroom, looking for the toothbrush jaemin got you last time.

his expression became one of shame, like a child being scolded by his mother. “i know, but you just looked so peaceful…”

this isn’t the first time this has happened. more often than not, jaemin invites you to hang out after class.. so you usually find yourself leaving with him to walk to his apartment… you just can’t get enough of him.

once you get there, you hope for a productive afternoon, maybe crank out some assignments. but instead, you end up talking to him all night. you’ll eventually glance at the ungodly hour on the clock, and think, "just 5 more minutes. i'll get going in 5 minutes." 5 minutes turns into 5 hours... and next thing you know, the sun is up, you've slept through all your alarms, and you're grabbing your things to rush out.

“i need to go home-” you pat your hands around the couch, looking for your purse, tossing around the blankets and pillows jaemin put on you while you were asleep.

“wait.” he interjected. “when’s your next class?”

“at 1… but i still have to go home and get dressed...” you sighed, slumping onto the stool at the kitchen island.

“you still have plenty of time to eat breakfast...” jaemin said, nudging over a plate of toast that was grilled passed the point of no return.

“jaemin…” you laughed. “im not eating that.” you eyed the dish, and a chill went down your spine. “i’ll just have some cereal.” you helped yourself to his cabinets in a search for a more edible alternative.

sitting across from jaemin at the table, you crunched on your cereal while he picked at his burnt toast… his pride wouldn’t let him throw it out. “so do you wanna come over again later?” he waited for you to chew your food before you replied.

“jaemin, be for real.” you set down your spoon. “i can’t keep coming over on weekdays. i lose track of time and fall asleep.. i can’t keep doing that.”

“why not?” he said, mouth full. “why can’t you fall asleep here?”

“i don’t have my stuff here! no skincare, no clothes…” you counted a finger for each point you listed. “and by the time i wake up, im late, and i still have to go home and get ready...”

“well then.. why not just bring stuff to stay the night.” he cleared his throat. “pack your clothes and skincare and whatever… plus, you already have a toothbrush here.”

“do you want me to stay or something?” you took a sip of juice, eyes peeking over the cup.

“i just like having you around...” he picked at the toast some more, but had yet to actually taste it.

you thought for a moment. “yeah sure.” you shrugged, ignoring the way he just made your heart flutter.

“wait really?” he looked up from his plate.

“i mean… i guess it’s not a problem as long as i bring stuff to stay.” you said, getting up from your seat to go wash your bowl in the sink. jaemin followed right behind you and draped his arms over your shoulders, pulling your back into his chest. “then can you bring stuff to stay longer than 1 night?”

jaemin has always been a pretty affectionate friend, so you didn’t think much of the hug… “maybe i could stay until the weekend..”

“just until the weekend?” he squeezed you a little tighter.

but was he always this clingy?

“na jaemin, when did you get so clingy?”

“well these days, i…” he stopped himself.

“these days, you...?” you hummed, tugging on his arms that were still embracing you, urging for him to finish his sentence. you began swaying side to side ever so slightly. “let’s just stay like this for a minute.” he cooed, catching on to your rhythm, rocking in the silence. he really gave the best hugs. after a moment, he disrupted the stillness of the room. “move in with me.”

hearing him say that so bluntly made your heart drop. flustered, you turned around to face him, his arms now resting on your back. “all of a sudden?” you laughed.

“mm.” he nodded his head to agree, looking at you so endearingly. he gradually inched his face closer to yours, and you didn’t mind.

“jaemin.”

“yeah?” he answered, just inches away.

“are you trying to kiss me right now?” you teased, as your gaze wandered from his eyes to his lips.

“are you gonna let me?” he teased back. you couldn’t hold back your smile, and he basically took that as confirmation.

he didn’t have to lean in much further before his lips were touching yours. your eyes fluttered as his hands gently met your cheeks, even tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“what are we doing?” you whispered in between breaths.

“just enjoy it.” he reassured you.

and for some reason, his words really put you at ease. in that moment, you couldn’t help but enjoy it. you reconnected your lips, and let yourself fall more in love with your best friend than you already were.

his smile forced him out of the kiss. “so does this mean we can have breakfast together every morning?”

you scoffed at his remark. “maybe if you learn how to cook first…”

@lovesuhng thanks so much for the request!!!! such a cute idea. hope you like it!!! (reqs always open)

[sakumz]

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a/n : MONA STOLE MY C2 KINICJ 😭😭 wanna sponsor yo girl sum crystals!??@ 😔😔😔

[ m. kinich x gn reader ]

____________________________________________

" what? " the word slipped past his lips before he could react.

your thumb brushing beside his lips, dusting off the crumps of the cookie he ate. you, coming in his life was truly a blessing by the archons. everyday was filled with smiles and happiness even the bad days. he may not show it but he feels so full of warmth with you.

so what happened? ajaw can't help but giggle at his troubles. you're laughing at the traveller. when he approached you, he receives a glare. do you hate him? he gulps as he retracts his hand.

were you still holding a grudge because he left you alone at the night kingdom? but it was an accident! he swears.

it felt like years since the traveller had resided in natlan, not true though it was only a week. you're still ignoring him. whenever he crosses path with you, he couldn't say a hello or a goodbye as you were there and now you're gone typa shii.

" hey kinich! " mualani shouts as she shakes the man.

" I'm listening, " he shakes her hands off him. she sends him a solemn look.

" is it just me or has y/n been glued to that traveller since they arrive, " kinich says as mualani couldn't help but turn to face the traveller. they were watching kachina do her dance, not aware of the conversation played.

" what do you mean? " mualani raised an eyebrow at the sudden question.

" y/n is always chatting away with the traveller... they only glare at me when our eyes meet. " he replies honestly as mualani is left gasping for air.

" he-hey, you do know y/n has been long dead right? they saved you back at the night kingdom... " mualani couldn't help but give a squeeze to his shoulder before standing and joining the traveller and kachina.

" what? " and just then ajaw appeared next to him.

" talk about being a big delusional dummy! " ajaw storms around him, " you should stop thinking about your dead lover and move on!! there's plenty of fishes in the sea! " ajaw tries to lighten the mood but it only sends him to timeout.

kinich hates to admit but ajaw is right, he'll have to move on. but it doesn't make sense, he's sure you were there.

" hi. " hearing your voice made him jump from his seat, he's going crazy isn't he? he turns to his left and you're there, staring at him with love adoring your face.

" is it really you? " he couldn't help but reach out only for his hand to go through your face.

" I'm gonna say my last goodbye, it hurts being here. seeing you suffer and all... " your voice trails off in a soft whisper as he clench his fists. if only he was stronger.

" I'm sorry, " he says softly as your tears threatens to fall.

he's always been like this to you, he's sweet. stoic on the outside especially to everyone but you. being his childhood friend, you saw him grow, you were with him when he lost his father. he was everything to you. you can't help but let the tears fall, sending him a genuine smile. you're glad he's alive and safe.

" please live to the fullest, I love you so so much. " you gave him a hug, just this once did he feel your warmth again.

---

a/n : my uid 823224230

[court-jobi]

Hi there, I had silly idea of Bakugou × reader in established relationship where she one day compares him to arcanine from pokemon, I mean look at it, it looks like Bakugou 1:1 lol

Omg anon, I confess... I had to go back in the databanks to remember this Pokemon from my younger years- but boy am I glad I did! This was a joy to write, and made me giggle seeing this ask!

Be prepared for fluff and hilarity ahead, y'all. It's 11PM and I wrote this instead of washing dishes...

Uncanny Resemblance

Words: 1.5k

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Placing the ice cube tray back in the freezer, you grimace over the lack of coolant coming from the top exhaust fan in your fridge. 

“Ugh, this is gonna be a pain when that heatwave comes,” you sigh with preemptive regret, “Really don’t wanna lose all this chicken in here…”

“Who cares about dumb chicken,” Kaminari pipes up from behind you, “What about the ice pops??”

You scoff good naturedly- Bakugou’s brand of sarcasm occasionally comes out of your mouth instead of his, despite your goal to be the more palatable half of your partnership.

“Those are for when my blood sugar crashes, darling– it’s not your personal stash when you come over.” 

Trying not to let too much air out of the tepid freezer, you shut it in favor of adjusting the main fridge’s controls to not suck up too much power. When Bakugou comes back with the new filter and coolant, you’re sure things will chill back up to temp in no time. 

Doing so leaves you plenty of time to putz around the kitchen while Kirishima keeps his particularly talkative company from eating you out of house and home. He’s already two sodas in, and despite your endless hospitality, even poor Eij wants to try and bash some manners into his friend from taking advantage. 

“C'mon man, just pick your racer already,” Kiri chides Kaminari to place his attention more on his controller than his appetite.

It’s then that your phone vibrates on the coffee table, drawing Kirishima’s eye.  There lies a small, yellowish icon beside the chat name ‘Backpack’, which he snidely recognizes as your nickname for Bakugou. 

“Hey, uh, doll? Your man’s textin’ ya!”

Head back in your fridge drawer, you call out, “Oh, check it for me? He might be asking about the brand we need!”

Drawing the notification down, Kirishima nearly chokes on his own spit at what he finds.

Yes, Bakugou’s asking which of the two labels he’s holding is what you’re in the market for… but in the margins of your texting exchange is a hilarious sight:

Bakugou’s contact photo is none other than a Pokemon. 

It’s here that Kirishima remembers his training; much like in a game of cards, it’s best not to reveal all your tells too quickly when you come across a secret. Don’t get cocky, and move with stealth. 

In a move sneakier than he’d claim to be, he screenshots the full contact detail, and texts it to himself. 

“What’d he say, Kiri?”

Hearing your voice clearer, Kirishima turns back casually and repeats Bakugou’s question, 

“He’s asking if it’s the green or blue label one!” 

“Uhhh, I think it’s green. Let’s go with that.”

“.... He’s askin’ how sure you are.”

Testily, you balk at Kirishima’s relay, “Does he not trust me?! YES, tell him it’s green.”

“... He’s askin’ what percentage sure y~”

“OH MY GOD!!”

Snickering to himself, he finally hands you your phone to ultimately set him straight, blowing up Bakugou’s contact photo on his own cell for further inspection. A second too long looking at this furry, blonde fire type you’ve chosen to represent your sweetheart has Kiri screwing his eyes shut and huffing a little laugh through his nose. 

Kaminari knows a damn good joke when he sees one, and bugs Kirishima to let him in.

“What’s got you crackin’ up?”

Kirishima tilts the phone his friend’s way- who bends over in completely silent laughter just as Kiri had, only more chaotic. It makes Kirishima react all the more, wheezing mutely into his palm to keep himself from letting you know he’d been looking in places he likely shouldn’t.

Kaminari mouths a bad idea. ‘SHOW HIM!!’

‘NO’

‘YES’

‘She’s gonna know!!’

‘Bro. BRO CODE-’ Kaminari mimics thumbs flying across a keyboard, ‘you GOTTA tell him~ He’ll be pissed!’

‘Yeah! THAT’S BAD!’

‘BUT IT’S FUNNY!’

On one hand, the photo contact is too rich of a laugh not to share with Bakugou; but on the other hand, it will all but confirm he went snooping on your phone more than intended. He’d truly hate to violate your trust… but you had asked him to look at it. You gave express permission.

Kiri’s fateful, recurring mistake; he listens to Kaminari regardless of the consequences.

“Ok, y’all are too quiet,” you finally round the kitchen island, “Picking a circuit can’t be that hard– whaaat are you two doing.”

Wearing matching doe-eyed looks, shoulder to shoulder, you take stock of how these two fully-fledged Pro Heroes look like grown-up children on your couch. 

“Oh, Kiri’s just enlightening me to the grand secrets of the universe!” Kaminari chimes back.

Not buying a minute of it but also preserving blissful ignorance, you simply retrieve your phone and squish yourself in between the two boys on the couch for an ounce for control. 

Instead of prying, you merely check into your self-care app and select your daily rewards, a song of ‘don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask’ under your breath as you make yourself comfortable.

Under Kaminari’s goofy thumbs up, Kirishima sucks on the edge of his lip and sends a quick little message to Bakugou before settling in for a game. 

–Not five minutes later, you hear the keys all but clash against the door before it opens and shuts with a bang.

“OKAY, WHICH ONE OF YOU BASTARDS DID IT?!”

You three whirl around in a turn befitting a sitcom. Sandwiched between both boys’ shit eating grins, you look alarmed at Bakugou: wondering what you did to be lumped into his ire.

“-not you-” Bakugou pegs you with a placating look to settle your panic, “I mean the MORONS who TOOK YOUR PHONE and made me a FUCKIN’ ARCANINE??”

With the expected vitriol blasting from Bakugou’s equally spiky hair as the Pokemon held up in his phone, Kirishima and Kaminari doubled over laughing. 

Meanwhile, you held a frozen look somewhere between hysterical and nervous.

“H- eh- I’m sorry, what?” you feigned confusion– just for a little bit longer.

Bakugou tabled the plastic bag containing your freezer parts, then sulked over to you, shoving Kaminari’s skull aside roughly so he could lean over the back of the couch in his place and show you himself.

“They set me as a freaking POKEMON as my icon– why don’t you keep this thing locked, huh??”

Swallowing your own chuckle, you peeked back up at him with guilty brows.

“Did they do it?”

“WELL YEAH!” Bakugou charged back brusquely, staring down a howling Kirishima, “WHO ELSE woulda pulled a shitty character like that to be what comes up when I call you?!”

All too sweetly, you tried again,

“And you’re sure they’re the ones who did it?...”

For an exhausted moment, Bakugou isn’t following you– until he does. Your little smirk all but screams it. 

You bat your lashes for good measure while he puts it together: “I mean, the resemblance is uncann-”

“HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN A FREAKING CARTOON IN YOUR PHONE, WOMAN??!”

Playfully defensive, you giggle through your defense, 

“It’s cute! You look like one!”

“I DO NOT!”

“Well it’s not like I have an album of pictures with you actually smiling to put there!”

“FINE THEN-”

Bakugou swipes your phone straight out of your hand, reverts the camera to selfie mode, nearly puts you in a headlock, and waits for you to quit squirming already before giving you a deceptively gentle kiss on the cheek-

At the very moment you look back at the camera with adorable realization, he snaps the photo, then releases you entirely. His grumpy scowl is back in full force, as if he hadn’t just posed for the sweetest photo of your entire relationship.

Tip-tapping for just a few more menus, he places your phone firmly back into your hands. 

“There. And don’t you dare change it. NONE of you.”

You squawk in delight, finding his face has not only been set as your lock screen, but also your home screen and of course- his profile photo. The redhead on your left and blonde on your right both coo their ‘awws’ on either side of you seeing their Bakubro showing an ounce of emotion immortalized for all eternity.

Before you can even rally to soothe your likely embarrassed boyfriend, you follow the sight of said grumbling man as he’s taken the bag’s contents to the freezer. He’s handling it all a bit roughly, but is setting to work himself so you don’t have to fight with it again for the third time today.

It’s a sweet gesture, and makes you only adore your prickly Arcanine who had clearly chosen a protective stance once he came home– never once considering you’d have been the one who did the ill deed against him. The similarities are painfully obvious to everyone in the room… and perhaps that realization was hitting him a bit close to home, even in jest.

You’ll owe Bakugou a playful apology, which you’re sure an indulgent scratch along his back and through his hair will fix.

Never before have you been happier for Kirishima to have chosen you as the little sister to mess with~

[charliemwrites]

i cannot describe what keeper ghost is doing to me, i'm ready to sell all my belongings and leave my soft life to live in a crate for him

please charlie, tell me what happens when reader asks to go down on Simon but ONLY A LITTLE BIT and ONLY TO SEE IF SHE LIKES IT

Honestly same, I just wanna stop doing taxes and waking up before dawn 😭

But going down on Simon, you sayyyyyy?

You’ve been letting (demanding) Simon take care of you with his hands and mouth for weeks now. It’s your favorite pre-bedtime ritual in fact. You sleep like a rock after an orgasm or three and Simon always seems so enthusiastic to provide. (He is.)

That said, you haven’t reciprocated. Not on purpose, anyway. Sometimes while getting off on his thigh, yours will rub against his cock through his sweats. (A few times now, feeling it twitching and rock hard has been the thing to tip you over.) But mostly, intimate encounters have been one-sided and you-focused.

You’re not totally oblivious, you know he’s turned on by getting you off (which… took some time to wrap your head around but wasn’t entirely shocking either.) But again, he never pushes, suggests, asks, or even hints at wanting you to do anything. At most he’ll adjust himself and…. That’s it.

But now you want more. Simon is a private man - at least that’s the sense you get watching him interact with Johnny a couple times. It’s different with you though; he grants you liberties that you’re pretty sure would get anyone else very Murdered.

So, as is usual in your never-ending quest to stretch him to the limit, you pin him down on the couch one night, hands on his chest again. You’re sitting on him, the length of his powerful body stretched out over the cushions.

“What do you need, pretty? You want my mouth? My hands?” He asks.

You shake your head and wiggle down to perch on his thighs, palms in the hard planes of his stomach now.

“I wanna taste you,” you announce. “But don’t move. I might not like it.”

“‘Course,” he soothes, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Go ahead and explore. All yours, little one.”

You tug at his belt and zipper, nearly rip the button off his jeans. You make an annoyed noise when you struggle to get them off.

“Easy, easy,” he coos. “Let me help.”

You hmph as he sits up a bit, tilting his hips to slide them down his ass, leaving black boxers behind. He’s already tenting the fabric, a single tiny dark spot just under the elastic waistband. You bat his hands away, mumbling that you’ve got it now so move, tapping your fingers along the outline of it. It twitches beneath your touch, hot and hard.

You dip a hand in, knowing and not caring that your hands are cold. If it bothers him, Simon doesn’t show any sign. Not that you’re looking, either, it’s your playtime after all.

For a minute you just explore the shape and size it through fabric, admiring the shadow where the flared head disrupts the polyester. Then you tug the band down, eyes going moony when his cock springs up, already flushed and wet at the tip.

“Ooh it’s so big,” you murmur, talking to yourself. That Simon is there and might hear is just coincidence. “How the hell does that fit anywhere?”

You trace a fingertip along a prominent vein on the underside, following the curve. When you reach the head, a bean of precum wells up. And you have to taste it.

Simon lets out a little puff of air when you swipe your tongue over the head. Then another when dip the tip into his slit, wanting more.

“Tastes good,” you muse, pleasantly surprised.

He doesn’t respond, knows you’re not talking to him. You press your lips just under the head and hum, giggling when you feel it vibrate throughout his shaft. It feels… good. Fun. You’ve never gotten to just have your way with someone’s cock before, and never been close like this with Simon. Usually there are still plenty of layers of clothes between you too. The novelty is intoxicating.

You lick along the shaft, up and down. Little, tiny flicks of your tongue that are probably maddening. Occasionally, you tilt your head to apply gentle suction along the side, like how it flexes against your cheek.

Eventually, you make it back up to the head and rap your lips around it. Just that much feels like a lots, feels like you’re playing a dangerous game with your jaw. You won’t be taking much more than this. He’s thick.

And all the while, Simon’s little grunts and sighs and gasps are so much background noise, just like the show running forgotten on the TV. He doesn’t thrust into your mouth, or twitch, or reach for you. He never does. He just lets you have your fun in silence.

You lose track of time lavishing just the head of his cock with attention before pulling away, feeling almost sleepy from the meditative headspace you’ve fallen into.

“Mm that was fun,” you conclude. “I want to do it again sometime.”

You wander off to bed, the taste of his precum like honey lingering on your tongue.

[vilevenom]

One more quick little thing before I head to bed for the night! This one is for @em-doods, because we got to chatting about some sweet, sweet JD and Clay sadness ❤️ If you haven't gone to check out her adorable trolls art, I highly recommend it! I especially recommend checking out this post here, as well as this one, since those are the versions of BroZone's parents referenced in this ficlet~

It's relatively short, but I hope you enjoy it, anyway!

One of the last things John Dory had expected when he'd settled himself on the beach outside Bruce's resort was Clay plopping himself down next to him. Truthfully, they'd been getting along much better in the few months that had passed since Floyd had been rescued, but there was still plenty of tension between the middle and eldest brother. They'd talked through a small handful of issues, such as Clay's bitterness about John taking all the fun out of him being the 'Fun Boy', and John's incessant need for their past performances to be 'perfect'. However, the two still did not tend to purposefully seek out each others company.

"Uh…hello?" John chuckled rather awkwardly, offering Clay a lopsided smile, "What's up?"

Clay simply stared out at the ocean for a moment, before turning his gaze to John Dory. "Tell me about Mom and Dad."

John blinked, a bit taken aback by the sudden demand without preamble. "Sorry, what?"

Clay rolled his eyes, but didn't seem particularly annoyed by John's confusion. "Tell me about Mom and Dad. I don't really remember a whole lot, and I know you've got a memory like a steel trap."

"Oh. I suppose you were only about nine when they were taken, weren't you?" John mostly muttered to himself, rubbing at his chin. "Okay, sure. Uh, is there anything in particular you wanna know?"

With a short shrug Clay leaned back on his hands, turning to stare back out at the ocean. "I dunno…Got any fun stories from when we were kids?"

John thought about that for a moment, before snapping his fingers, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah! When we were little, Mom used to make up all sorts of fun little dances while she was doing chores and things around the pod. She liked singing well enough, but she loved dancing. One of my personal favorites of hers was her laundry dance. When you were old enough to walk on your own, you started trying to mimic her dance moves. You usually wound up falling over and tugging whatever laundry Mom had just hung up down, and getting all tangled up." John let out a fond laugh, shifting to sit forward a bit. "She'd laugh and help you get untangled, all while you cried about messing up the dance."

"Is that why you got me doing the choreo for BroZone?" Clay sniffed, a small frown on his face.

John sighed, his joy at recalling his mother quickly dampened by Clay's apparent need to constantly remind John Dory of what a horrible brother he'd been. "Maybe a bit, yeah," he admitted quietly, letting out a little puff of air. "You loved dancing. With Mom, especially. I guess, maybe…maybe it was a bit to keep her spirit alive with us. With the band." He sighed, rubbing at his face, "That sounds selfish."

Clay snorted, shooting John a wry smile. "It totally does, man."

"Shut up," John laughed, shoving his brother gently in the shoulder. Clay swayed slightly, but made no move to retaliate. John chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, before blurting, "You look like her."

Clay startled slightly, turning wide eyes on John. "Excuse me, what?"

"Sorry, I-ugh," John raked his fingers though his hair in mild irritation at himself. "You look like Mom. You take after her. A lot. The rest of us sort of take mostly after Dad, but you look so much like Mom. And it's way more apparent, now that you're older."

"Do I?" Clay sat up and glanced at his hands, flexing his fingers.

"Yeah, bro. Mom was super into books, and she had all these amazing ideas," John sighed wistfully, watching the waves roll into the sandy shore, "She was super smart, and really kind. And she was just ridiculous. Any time one of us would go to her with some stupid little kid idea, she'd do her best to help us achieve whatever it was, even if it was practically impossible." He laughed, before he began to rummage around int the pockets of his vest, finally pulling out a well worn photo. "Here! I almost forgot I had this on me."

Clay accepted the photo reverently, eyes wide as he took in the still frame from so long ago in their past. A very young John Dory was stood next to a tall, lean looking troll with voluminous teal hair. Clay barely recognized himself in the photo, a trolling no older than perhaps five, propped on her hip, shyly waving at the camera. "Is that…?"

"That's you and Mom, yeah. I think this picture is right around your fourth or fifth hatchday. You were starting to get a bit too big to be carried around, but you kept getting jealous of Floyd, so Mom would make a point of carrying you around as much as she could."

"Oh," Clay murmured, startling a bit as a wet drop hit the corner of the picture. He tipped his head back to find the sky devoid of clouds, only to quickly touch his face and realize he'd begun to cry.

"Even despite being in that cage, she always did her best to make sure everyone always had a smile on their face," John continued quietly, not noticing his brothers plight. "After Mom and Dad got taken, you started trying to do that. Fill that void that Mom left behind, trying to make everyone laugh or smile…" Finally, he looked up to find Clay with silent tears pouring down his ruddy cheeks. He looked alarmed for a moment, reaching out hesitantly, not quite sure if his touch was welcome, only to jerk in surprise as Clay fell into his side with a sniffle. With mild trepidation he gently settled his arm around Clay's shoulders, giving him a little squeeze.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the soft crashing of the waves on the beach, and Clay's quiet, hiccupping sobs.

"I forgot what she looked like," Clay admitted after a time, not moving from his brother's hold.

"Sometimes I forget, too," John sighed, rubbing Clay's shoulder, "It's why I'm so glad I managed to get hold of our old photo albums when I went back to the tree. You can keep that one, if you want."

"Can I?"

"Of course. I've got plenty more, back in Rhonda."

"Thanks, JD."

"Anytime."

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

the pogues take mario kart very seriously.

big john bought john b a wii when he was 10, and he and jj have been mastering the art of drifting and aiming shells since. spending at least part of the weekend stuck to the chateau’s small tv screen became mandatory. oftentimes, the crew would use a quick game to handle debates or disagreements.

“i’m tellin’ you. this plan is fool proof.” jj licks the inside of his lip, fixing his hat on his head for emphasis as he stares down a visibly unimpressed john b. “you don’t think goin’ in there—guns a-blazing—is gonna surprise ‘em?”

“i think they have plenty of guns to a-blaze at us, jj.” pope deadpans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leans back on the porch bench. jj’s resolve doesn’t falter, he only shakes his head, looking between the other two boys.

“yeah—but that’s the thing—we’re faster, dude. i mean, you saw me at the beach, i was like—bow bow, bowbowbow..”

kiara bumps your arm, drawing you out of a daydream. you turn toward her, then follow her eyes to your blabbering boyfriend. “are you hearing this?”

you didn’t have to be listening to know his plan is absurd, but you shrug anyway. “i dunno, maybe he has a point.”

“sure..”

“y’know what, jj? i think we should settle this like men.” john b crosses his arms over his chest. “on the track.”

“guys—“ kiara starts, but jj cuts her off, pointing a confident finger at john b.

“you’re on.”

next thing you know, you’re sat on the couch inside, jj sitting beside you with a white knuckle grip on the wii controller steering wheel. he’s leaned forward, elbows on his knees in the most intense focus you’ve ever seen him in. they’re split screened, jj on the left and john b on the right, perfectly mirroring where they’re sitting on the couch. the ever so reliable john b chooses classic mario, and jj sticks to his routine choice, yoshi.

everyone’s eyes are glued to the tv screen, kiara leaning on the side of the couch, biting her nails anxiously, sarah sitting on the floor between john b’s legs, and pope sprawled across the leather armchair.

the boys are on their third lap, and it’s clear the competition is getting heated just looking at them. the first two laps were filled with shit talking and all around bad sportsmanship, but now they’re silent. neck and neck, they crash through the final round of item boxes, and the air stills as their respective power-ups shuffle.

“c’mon, c’mon.. big money..” jj mutters biting his lip. you’re enthralled, one hand resting supportively on his shoulder. with john b just a few paces in front of him, jj’s first power up loads as a red shell, and he immediately shoots it at john b. it hits him dead on, a cinematic slow-mo of mario’s go-kart sputtering to an explosive stop capturing the chaos of the room perfectly. jj springs to his feet, yoshi flying past john b’s defeated mario and through the finish line like a bullet.

“john b!” kiara shouts, hands flying to her forehead in utter shock as she watches jj cross the finish line in first. john b opens his arms in confusion, looking between everyone innocently. “what? he’s getting good! i mean—what d’you want me to do?”

“man, you threw that.” pope complains, hands wiping down his face as he grapples with the reality that is jj’s elaborate plan. john b can only brush them off, which is easy with jj shouting over all of them.

he’s already hooting and hollering. “yeah! yeaaah, that’s right, baby. don’t start sum you can’t finish.” he throws the controller down on the couch, coming back over to where you’re sitting and grabbing your hands, pulling you up to stand beside him. you can’t help but laugh, his elation infectious. he pulls you to his side like a trophy, pointing at john b in satisfaction. “s’why you don’t challenge papa j to a race, ‘les you wanna get owned.”

“i can count on one hand how many times you’ve won.”

“whatever, man, this time actually counts.” his hands roam down your side, gliding his fingers down the exposed skin below your crop top and he burrows his finger tips under the waistband of your shorts. “looks like today, papa’s in charge.”

“great.”

˚❀˚

[houseofripley]

HII

Could you write a rhea x fem!reader where they are at a scare house with a bunch of friends and reader is a big scaredy-cat and clings onto rhea the whole time and all of them end up in a maze but rhea and reader get lost and separated from the group and reader is terrified so rhea tried to cheer her up with some make-out time and hugging and reassurance(maybe some smut there or when they get back home🤷‍♀️)

Scared?

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, Publix Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Mommy Kink

WORD COUNT: 1,613

A/N: I AM ALIVE SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING!!!! im on spring back so hopefully i'll actually have some freetime now

“No wait, I don’t think I can do it,” you jittered, your anxieties shaking through your body as you stood next in line to enter a dingy barn that was quite literally in the middle of nowhere.

After weeks of begging your partner Rhea to be the hugh hefner to your playboy bunny she agreed under one condition; that you’d go to the scare attraction she had been talking about non-stop. At first you were ready to scrap your matching costume idea altogether but after some reassurance from Rhea that your friends would be there you reluctantly agreed. 

“You are not backing out on us now!” Your friends started throwing playful teases at you.

“Don’t be a wimp, it won’t even be that bad,” 

Rhea wrapped her arm around your waist as she added to the taunts, “My little scaredy-cat,”

“I am not a scaredy-cat! I just don’t like having clowns chase me with machetes,” you attempted to defend yourself.

“That’s totally something a scaredy-cat would say,”

The attendant at the entrance signaled for your group to enter the building. You let a few of your friends enter before hesitantly entering, making sure you were in the middle of the group. Stepping inside a thick layer of faux fog clouded your vision while strobe lights beamed through the hazed air. “I wanna go home,” you raised your voice so your group could hear you over the loud ambiance and scream of others further down the path. 

You braced your hands in front of you in self-defense as you made your way through a flashing corridor. Rounding the corner you were immediately jumpscared by a bloodied woman hopping through a curtain, making you back up into Rhea as you let out a scream. 

Rhea let out a laugh as one of her hands took grip of your waist, giving the skin a light squeeze. “I got you,” Rhea chuckled as she spoke just loud enough for you to hear her. 

Your group of friends continued through the scenes of the attraction with plenty of jumpscares and many more screams before eventually being chased out of the building into the second half of the attraction, a haunted corn maze. 

You hesitantly followed your bunch of friends on the paths, your hand clinging to Rhea’s. It wasn’t long until your crowd was deep into the maze. By the time your eyes had hardly adjusted to the darkness you were soon caught off guard by a group of actors emerging from the corn stalks, causing you to dart further into the field.

“Oh my god I can’t see anything,” you yelled, too focused on running away from the bloodied men, you and Rhea wound up split from your group getting lost along the trail.

-

It had been fifteen minutes since the two of you last saw your friends and ten minutes since a scare actor popped up, your nerves were growing by the second knowing it was only a matter of time before another actor would find you. The grip you had on Rhea’s hand had to have been cutting off her circulation at that point. 

“Look at me, pretty girl,” Rhea spoke, her tone of voice was soft, “you’ll always be safe with me, you know that I’d never let anyone touch you,” she assured. You couldn’t help but look up at her with a soft smile, her reassurance sending ease to your foggy mind.

Rhea’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug before she dropped her lips against yours. You melted into her embrace as you squeezed your hands around her stiffened biceps. 

“As much as I’d love to kiss you forever, I’d love to get out of this damn maze as soon as possible,” you giggled, pulling back from her lips after a moment before continuing your way through the trails.

-

“We’re never making it out of here alive,” you pouted, throwing your head back realizing you were caught in yet another dead end. You were caught off guard by the feeling of a set of hands grabbing you from behind and pulling you back against their body, causing a shriek to leave your mouth..

“You’re so sexy when you’re scared, all tensed up,” Rhea quietly chuckled into your ear. “plus that little outfit making you all vulnerable isn’t helping your case,” she added, her teeth nipping at your earlobe while her arms pulling your back further against her chest.

“Not funny Rhe’,” you whined. Although your body relaxed knowing you were in the safety of Rhea’s arms, your heartbeat was still stuck in your throat, the thrill of Rhea’s sudden instigating had already begun forming a puddle in between your legs.

Rhea let out a breathy chuckle as she placed a kiss below your ear, “did you really think I’d be able to control myself when you look like that?” she murmured, her hands trailed to the bust of your strapless bodysuit.

“Mm- no but I assumed you’d have enough self control to wait till we got home,” your giggle soon turned into a quiet gasp as Rhea quickly flipped the bust of your outfit down, revealing your chest to the brisk air. Her hands glided to cup your breasts as her lips connected to the crook of your neck. Her fingers took hold of your nipple, rolling the flesh between her digits causing a hitched curse to leave your mouth. 

Rhea soon guided your body face hers, a satisfied smirk painted across her lips as she bent down and took your nipple into her mouth. Her knee found itself separating your legs causing a whimper to escape your mouth as her knee pushed up against your needy heat.

“Rhe’, we might get caught,” you whispered, your hands reaching to grab Rhea’s face, a grin creeping onto her lips as you pulled her face up to yours.

“Oh baby,” Rhea murmured, trailing her hand down the length of your bodysuit, “that’s the fun part,” she added before quickly yanking the fabric covering your core to the side. You sucked in a harsh breath, a shiver running through your body as the bitter autumn air hit your slicked heat.

“No panties? Naughty girl,” Rhea clicked her tongue as her finger slipped across your wetness, gathering your juices on her finger, “look at you, all soaked for Mami,” she hummed before taking her finger into her mouth, sucking your juices from her skin.

Rhea brought herself to her knees before you, her cobalt eyes twinkling in the moonlight as they trailed up your body, silently asking for permission. Although a quickie in a corn maze was definitely not in your Halloween plans, Rhea's mouth was nearly always impossible to resist. Once you nodded your head in approval she began peppering soft kisses to your inner thighs, leaving you whining at the sensation of her warm lips against your chilled flesh.

“Such a brave girl for me,” Rhea quietly praised, tossing one of your legs onto her shoulder, “I think you deserve a treat,” locking eyes with you she flattened her tongue against your cunt. She licked a wide stripe up your wetness, humming at the taste of your arousal. Your hand found itself tangled in her hair, pulling at the jet-black strands as her pierced tongue began rounding your clit. 

You chewed at the insides of your cheeks, hoping to stifle your whines when Rhea’s tongue sank into your heat. Quiet hums of approval escaped from Rhea as her tongue prodded with your entrance, her nose pressed against your clit. 

Rhea’s mouth returned to lapping circles around your bundle of nerves while her pointer finger snuck into your hole. Your abdomen tensed in reaction to her finger rhythmically pumping into your tightness. Faint whines echoed from the back of your throat as Rhea’s tongue worked alongside her finger that toyed with your aching core.

It wasn’t long until a second finger dipped inside of you, resulting in a whined “Fuck,” to escape your throat. Rhea’s tongue stayed focused on tracing shapes over your clit, her eyes still gazing up at you, clearly enjoying the sight of you losing control over her touch.

The adrenaline of knowing there was a possibility of someone rounding the corner and catching the two of you only fueled Rhea’s gestures. Your eyelids squeezed shut at the sensation of her fastened pace, 

“Mami,” you threw your free hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans, “oh- fuck Mami,” you whimpered, bucking your hips against Rhea’s face, your climax rapidly approaching.

The curling of Rhea’s digits as they pumped into you initiated your orgasm. Muffled moans left your mouth as your climax washed over you, releasing all the tension that sat inside your stomach onto Rhea’s fingers. 

Rhea assisted you in riding out your peak before retracing her fingers from your insides. She brought herself back to her feet, licking her fingers clean, the remnants of your slick coating her chin. “Better than any Halloween candy I’ve had,” she praised under her breath.

“How sweet, but please get me out of here,” you giggled out of breath, playfully rolling your eyes as you adjusted your costume.

You hopped onto Rhea’s back after gladly accepting a piggyback ride from her. Rhea successfully guided the both of you through the rest of the maze, thankfully making it out with minimal scares.

“Jesus, what took you guys so long?” a friend questioned as Rhea carried you to your group of friends who were sat at a bench waiting for the pair of you to show up.

“It's a maze! We got lost!” you threw your hands up in self defense.

[fatecantstopme]

Undercover

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It has to be Hotch," Rossi stated.

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

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

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

"Saturday night," Garcia answered.

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

You sighed loudly, but nodded your agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grabbed your notebook and headed back to your desk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is that an order, sir?"

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

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

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

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

"What about it?"

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

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

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

"May I speak freely, sir?"

"As if you don't already."

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

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

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

"I didn't dismiss you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

**********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emily clapped and Garcia let out a little gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Holy shit," Emily mumbled.

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

"I second that," Garcia agreed.

"You think so?" you asked, timidly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tacos?" you asked.

"Obviously," she agreed.

**********

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

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

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

"What?" he asked.

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

He winced. "Sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

You winced, a look of disgust covering your face.

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

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

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

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

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

**********

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

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

"As I'll ever be, Em."

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

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

'Tux?' you mouthed at Emily.

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

"Actually, tuxes are required," Reid interjected.

"Ahh," you said with a nod.

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

"Make me pretty," you joked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You clean up nice," Rossi teased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Carter," Hotch said smoothly.

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

"Thank you very much," Hotch responded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Coulda fooled me."

"Do you hate me?" you asked softly.

He looked surprised. "Of course not."

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

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

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

His gaze met yours. "It is?"

You simply nodded.

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

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

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

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

He nodded again and joined you at the door.

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

You opened the door and the op began.

**********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you paying attention?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Sir," you hissed in annoyance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, sir," you murmured.

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

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

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

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

"I was thinking something permanent."

Hotch pretended to think about it, looking slightly disinterested.

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

"Discretion is obviously included," Hotch said simply.

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

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

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

Hotch looked down at you. "How much?"

"$500,000."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"On it, sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You did good," he commented.

"So did you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Little possessive aren't we?"

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

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

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

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

"No," you breathed out.

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

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

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

"Aaron," you whimpered softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aaron!"

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

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

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

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Fuck me, please," you begged.

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

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

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

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

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

"Faster," you begged.

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

"Squeezing me so tight, baby."

"So close," you gasped.

"Yeah? You wanna cum, pretty girl?"

"Please," you whimpered.

"Not yet," he growled.

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

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

"Wanna cum," you cried softly.

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

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

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

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

"Baby, you sure?"

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

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

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

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

"More than alright."

He smiled. "Me too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bit your lip and nodded.

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

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

"Shit," you mumbled.

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll get you a couple towels."

"Thanks," he said sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry for stopping by unannounced."

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

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

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

You raised your eyebrows.

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

"Go on."

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

"In what sense?"

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

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

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

You sighed and sat back down.

"Can I start over?" he asked.

You nodded. "Please do."

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

"Of course."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I didn't know," you whispered.

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

You offered him a small smile and he continued.

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

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

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

"I literally caged you against a wall."

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

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

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

He nodded slowly.

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

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

"Do you know how terrible that sounds?"

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

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

"Of course you are!" he insisted.

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

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"How many?" you asked again.

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

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

"Not one? How is that possible?"

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

He shook his head.

"You," you said simply.

"Me?"

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

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

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

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

"Why not?"

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

"And now?" you whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled. "You read my mind."

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

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

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

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed."

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

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

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

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

"Sounds ominous," he teased.

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

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

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

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

"Aaron."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wasn't expecting company."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aaron," you whined.

"Patience, sweetheart," he mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I taste you?" you asked sweetly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blushed. "Thank you."

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

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

He looked surprised. "Do you wanna be?"

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

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

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

"I need at least two more from you."

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

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

You blushed a little and wiggled slightly under him.

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

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

He kissed your palm. "May I try?"

You nodded slowly. "Please..."

"I'll go slow, baby."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh god," you moaned loudly.

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

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

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

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

"Aaron."

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

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

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

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

"Yes, sir," you murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"More," you begged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fill me up," you begged.

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

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

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

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

"Sooooo decent."

He laughed and you shot him a grin.

"Seriously, Aaron. It was fucking amazing."

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhmm."

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

"Just cute?" you teased.

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

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

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

"Thank you," you said softly.

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

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

"And you're sexy."

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

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

"That sounds nice."

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

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

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

[cryingpariah]

Just thought of something that wrecked my heart, so I’ll share it here.

Dragon at Garp’s doorstep with Luffy swaddled in his arms. It’s storming, it’s dark, it’s cold, rain is soaking through his cloak, and the warmth of the lights through the windows is so warm. But he’s so, so scared…

He hasn’t talked to his father in years… what if his father had grown to hate him? What if he was unwelcome, now? What if he was little more than a stranger? Would his father call him a disappointment of a son? Would he shut the door in his face? Would he reject Luffy?

And then the door opens, as if Garp sensed his presence… Hell, with the tangle of emotions tearing him up inside he probably had…

He’s ready for rejection. He’s ready for hatred. He’s ready for his heart to be broken.

He’s not ready for his father to hug his neck.

Complete and utter shock felt too small to describe the feelings in Dragon's heart.

His father tugged him that much closer and if the Revolutionary Army leader didn’t know any better, he’d think he felt tears staining his shoulder.

Garp, with surprising difficulty, pulled himself off and quickly turned on his heel.

“Get inside already, all this cold air isn’t good for Junior.”

Dragon quickly followed and started doing that awkward shuffle foot thing you do when you trying to take off your shoes without sitting, Luffy still sleeping peacefully in his arms.

He kept opening and closing his mouth without purpose. He had no idea where to even begin. There was so much, too much to explain.

He clenched his fists in determination, he had to approach this delicately.

He refocused with a start, suddenly realizing he was not, in fact, holding his baby anymore. Hence the previous fist clenching not possible when holding a newborn.

He whipped his head around only to see his elderly father sitting in a rocking chair, rocking his grandson back to sleep with soft murmurs and touches.

“There ya are, little one. Grandpa Garp has you.”

“W-When did you..”

“You’re just like your mother, neither of you could turn off your brains.”

Dragon took a seat in the armchair adjacent to his father, their shadows cast on the wall by the crackling flames in the fireplace.

A surprisingly calm silence blanketed them only occasionally disturbed by a gurgle or whimper from the infant in the room.

Alright Dragon, time to plead your case! Garp’s a lot of things but he’s not unreasonable! Wow him with your powers of persuasion and logic that has helped dozens of people seek their freedom!

“So…the weather around here is kinda cold for this time of year.”

Smooth Dragon real smooth.

���Cut the crap Sonny, just tell me what’s going on already.”

“ThisismysonLuffycanyoupleaseraisehim.”

That barely counted as a sentence or a plea.

Garp cooly nodded “Alright then.”

Dragon sagged in relief, quickly making to empty his bag. Diapers and wet wipes, bottles and formula, a foldable changing station and a convertible bassinet, he had made sure to bring anything his baby would need.

“He sleeps through the night well enough but Luffy - his name is Luffy I forgot to say - gets really fussy in the mornings. He seemed to have gotten the family appetite so feed him plenty.”

He pulled out a colourful book, the title reads ‘The Curious Tail of Carl the Cockatoo’

“This is his favourite story at bedtime, you have to read it to him every night.”

Finally he pulls out a mobile, decorated with a Bananawanis in different stages of life.

..He had forgotten he packed it. He wordlessly placed it on his father's hand before standing up to set up the bassinet.

“When do you plan on visiting? Not sure what a day in the life of criminal is but I’ve got a schedule I mostly need to follow.”

“Never, I’m never coming back.”

He couldn’t, he wanted to more than anything, but he couldn’t.

“In quite a rush there, can’t wait to leave or something?”

Alright, bassinet is a go, next the changing table.

“Just don’t wanna attract any unsavoury attention, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Garp stood up now, gently placed his grandson in his bed.

“I never told ya you had to leave. Hell, with the storm out there you’ll definitely need to stay the night.”

For the umpteenth time since arriving, Dragon hesitated. He couldn’t look his father in the eye. Damnit why was this changing table not listening to him, the box said it was for parents on the go and he had to go!

“Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for harbouring a criminal. It’s just..easier this way.”

Garp grunted and begun waving at his arm, as if he could physically shoo away Dragon's concerns.

“Boy, you can try and lie all you want but it won’t work on me. It took me forever to wrench the kid outta yer hands, you clearly don’t wanna leave ‘im. Yer frantically trying to distance yourself from me but I’d bet berries I’m the first person you came to, and don’t think I can’t see when my boy's gotten his heart broken.”

Dragon looked up and saw wrinkled eyes reflecting nothing but the softest love back at him.

“You wanna take care of your kid? Well I wanna take care of mine.”

He didn’t really know who reached out this time. All he knew is that he was hugging back.

“..When did you get so wise anyway?”

“Bwahaha, it came with the grey hair.”

[scrollypoly]

.

Nothing is more fucking appalling and nauseating than finding out that the people that were spreading shit about me being "abusive and toxic" to someone that was literally toxic and unhealthy to me were fucking minors. When that person was also older than me. What the fuck was going on there

[nights-at-crystarium]

You know what, I assume that people always read my pinned, or notice the pointer "new reader? start here" in every new Fragments' episode. I might be deluding myself. So hi hello lemme TALK ABOUT MY COMIC.

Before I get too rambly (and I mean RAMBLY), here's a quick intro. Fragments is a comic focused on feels and slice of life, made by a queer guy, aiming to ~character study~ the main cast (Vivi, Raha, Alisaie, Feo Ul) and fill in the gaps in canon (or linger in canon moments that needed more air imo), the tone ranging from angst to fluff to meme. Good punches require a good windup, so please don't expect angst anytime soon :3c

The story's segmented (fragmented, heh) into episodes. Episodes 1-11 take place in ARR, you can enjoy them with no worry about spoilers. Episode 12 onward is ShB, with all the spoilers and lorebending.

My storytelling style assumes you haven't only played through ShB, but know it like the back of your hand, i.e. it's for nerds and thinkers. Of course there's plenty of silly moments that don't require any deep knowledge, but the overarching story does. Often I skip canon events, only hinting that they took place, simply because I don't wanna retell the msq 1:1, I've got plenty of original scenes waiting to be drawn. You're in for a treat if you like obsessing over emotional and moral implications of things. And, yes, this's a story about a morally grey mc. Don't expect to be spoon-fed "and this's why that thing's bad, kids".

Currently I've outlined all the main story beats up until post EW, so it's like, not being winged as I go. Yes I refine things here and there, but I know where I'm going. I'm going ham!!!! With the lorebending post ShB. Initially I didn't plan to, but the more I learned about Vivi and personally grew as a writer, the more courage I got to "divorce" from canon. The general xiv story may still be good wherever it's headed, but it's not suited for an established wolgraha, so I'm making food for myself.

Everyone imagines the lil scenes from their wol's life, I'm taking that a tiiiiiny step further. Fragments tells a cohesive story that's looking to be the longest project at least in our corner. I can and will hyperfixate on this for years.

I started out just like many others, being hit with ShB like a truck, I wanted to put a catboy under a microscope and rotate him forever. Although I'd already been drawing for decades, I didn't have the comic-making skills yet, or eloquence to write the dialogue, so I spent the first half of 2022 self-studying, just because I needed a mouth to be able to scream about my ship.

Vivi didn't exist prior to my obsession with Exarch. He was made for this, he started out as a reagent (or a foil, now that I know fancy writing terms) for a rich and fun chemistry, and keep myself entertained for years, first and foremost.

Me, a fool: okay let's make a guy that falls in love with Exarch in this particular moment, what kinda life must he have led to- Me: ....oh no

The chemistry quickly bubbled up and exploded in my face, involving not only Exarch, but other characters (first as a means to subtly tell about Vivi, then they also demanded their own screentime), and here I am, sitting with a massive script on my hands, drawing my blorbos every day. Thanks for enabling that btw.

I care about characters a lot. I ask a lot of whys and hows. I'm critical-minded and burned on many bad stories that did their characters dirty, and I wanna be an opposing example. What I'm doing is extremely ambitious and risky, yes, but I can only invite you to tag along and see if I stick to my word.

The internet's a cruel and unforgiving place nowadays, and here I am, pitting my passion against what feels like decaying humanity. I'm making this comic to keep myself happy above all else, being sincere and cringe because life's too short to be anything else.

Thanks for reading this, and if you haven't yet, read Fragments here!

[wandasslut3000]

Relax

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, dom!reader, soft sex, dirty talk, teasing, erotic massage, praise, fingering, begging, marking, light spanking, mommy!kink (barely)

WC: 1.1k

           ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Currently the two of you were in your apartment. Yelena just having gone into the shower while you were in your shared bed, only in your underwear, awaiting the blonde Russian.

Once the door opened about a half hour later, you spotted your girlfriend in nothing but a towel.

“Hey”

"Hi baby, come." You pat down next to you, signaling for her to join you on the bed.

As she walked toward you, her hands relaxed, letting the towel slowly unwrap and fall towards the floor. You breath out an effected giggle as Yelena climbs into bed, crawling towards you till your lips meet in a soft kiss.

Cupping her face for a moment, your mouths dancing in union. Your fingertips run smoothly down her body, dragging from her shoulders to the arch of her back. A small moan coming from her at the feeling for you grabbing her ass.

Pulling away from the kiss with your lip between your teeth, you smile down at the widow on her hands and knees. Her full round breasts practically crying for attention.

"Baby" you whisper, "I wanna give you a massage." One hand moving to twirl a wet strand of her hair around your finger.

"My girl's been working so hard, wanna help you relax."

"Yeah?" You nod quickly, a silly smile creeping onto your face. "Mhmm, lay down." Yelena quirks an eyebrow but does as you ask, her ass sticking up in the air, wiggling right in your face.

Your pupils dilate at the sight, noticing the wetness creeping down her legs. Giving her flesh a light smack, you smirk at her reaction, a little whimper coming from her lips.

"Shh baby, we have plenty of time for me to touch you." You press her hips down and sit on her lower back, reaching over to the bedside table to grab a bottle of lotion.

Opening the cap and squeezing some onto your hand, you place the bottle back. Rubbing your hands together before spreading the cream on her back.

Yelena's breath hitches at the cooling feeling, her eyes fluttering shut as your fingers work on her back, your thumbs digging into her sore and tender skin, little groans and whimpers of satisfaction coming from her at the feeling of you releasing then tension in her muscles.

"Right there?" You whisper in question, pressing down on a tender spot and hearing the blonde groan. "Mhmm", she bites her lip, her thighs clenching as she try's to gain some friction.

"Yeah? How's it feel?" You smile, digging your thumb into the flesh and smoothing out the knot. "Feel's so good detka."

You lower yourself down her body, moving your hand over her ass, kneading the soft flesh, giving it a quick slap.

"Ah-"

"Gimme more pretty noises like that baby." Your hand coming back down on her, Yelena pushing her ass up towards you, a rush of wetness creeping out of her entrance.

Grinning, wanting to tease her further, you move your hands to rub at the insides of her thighs, "Malishka I need you.." Her voice hardly above a whisper as she tried to steady her breathing.

"Hmm... what do you need princess?"

"Touch me- please just touch me." She gasps as your hand moves to dip through her folds, cupping her sloppy wetness. “Right here?”

Moans and whines pry themselves from Yelena's throat as she grinds against you. "Yes please- I need your fingers so much!" Her voice cracked a little as her accent crept through her desperate words making more of your arousal flow into your already ruined panties.

"Aww my desperate little girl, you need mommy that badly?" She nods, turning her head to the side to face you, looking at you with submissive eyes as your fingers mindlessly play with the apex of her thighs.

"Aww, you're so wet." Your head tilts at her, a fake pity laced in your voice. Her lip goes between her teeth as she whines, bucking her hips against your hand, the tips of your fingers messing with her sloppy clit. "All for me huh?"

Kissing up her back, you move up her spine, pressing yourself against her as your fingers slowly tease her. Your lips now millimeters apart, "Is 'Lena gonna be a good girl and cum on my fingers?"

"Yes!"

Your hand picks up it's speed, your thumb moving to enter her while two fingers toy with her clit. Her mouth falls open as your foreheads presses against one another's, your front flush with her back.

"So tight, gripping me so good, sweetheart." More moans and whines slip out of her, your lips cover hers as you move to flip her over.

Yelena, now more comfortably on her back, grips your hair, kissing you with so much lust and love it was overwhelming. "You're so gorgeous" you whisper against her lips. You switch your fingers positions, your thumb moving to her clit and your two fingers moving to stretch her walls, a loud whimper echoing the room.

Pulling away with a smile, your kisses now trailing down her body, your eyes never leaving hers as your lips wrap around her left nipple. You suck on the bud as her other breast found itself inside your palm, your free hand tweaking and pinching her other nipple.

"Oh damn, that feels good." she whispers as you switch breasts, kissing and sucking purple marks all over her chest.

Moving down past her stomach, you smile up at her teasingly before sliding your tongue through her folds. A low and steady groan coming from the widow.

"Please mommy, keep going- don't stop." Her hips bucking in your face as she gets closer and closer to her high, her mouth forming an '0' shape as her brows furrow.

Sucking harder on her clit, you use your tongue to play with the bundle of nerves, your fingers sliding in and out of her with ease. "Almost there, you're doing so good." You mumble against her, Yelena's legs shaking in pleasure as you fucked her.

"You're so close babe, I can feel you clenching around me."

Your fingers pick up their pace, your thumb moving to replace your mouth on her.

"Relax for me 'Lena, let go."

And just like that her eyes shut, body spasming as she reaches her peak, you placing sweet kisses between her legs before moving up to take her lips on yours.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes mommy."

[ya-zz]

I luuuuvvww your wriiiitiing and wanted to request some ramattra x female reader nsfw/spicy? hihiii

Like maybe she's been drinking so she's a bit tipsy, and that makes reader feels brave and asks him if he can feel things/touches on his omnic cables/plates. Which leads to her touching him all over to find yknow some sensitive spots 👁👁 but she's completely clueless and ramattra is just trying to process everything lmao

I wanna fluster this omnic more, I think it would be fun. Thank you for requesting! ♥

Ramattra x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1619

The celebration within the monastery was a rare sight, as humans and omnics rarely mingled. However, this night was different. The air was filled with excitement and possibility, as everyone came together to celebrate.

The humans and omnics were all dressed in their finest clothes, and the monastery was decorated with beautiful flowers and lanterns. The food was plentiful and delicious, and the music was lively and upbeat. Everyone was laughing and talking, and there was a sense of genuine joy in the air. This was a night for everyone to come together and forget their differences.

You were stood around, glass in hand as you looked on, a warm smile plastered on your face at the sight of the omnics and humans being friendly with each other. There was no malicious intent by anyone and it seemed like the plan was working. 

You had worked with the monks for months, wanting to plan an evening where anyone was welcome within the monastery, an evening where everyone accepted. Maybe, just maybe, it would be a night that showed your human brothers and sisters that omnics truly aren’t all bad.

“I did not think this would work.” One omnic stood beside you, causing you to look up to him. 

“Oh, Ramattra.” You turn your focus back onto the party. “It was a gamble, one I am glad worked out.” 

“Humans and their gambling.” He tuts, folding his arms over his chest. “I am sorry to have doubted you.” 

You nudge him with your elbow before speaking. “Apology accepted. Lighten up, you’re supposed to be having fun.” 

“They still fear me.” Ramattra admits and then there was an awkward silence that followed behind. “Besides, I do not do celebrations.” 

You nod, understanding. “I don’t either. Never really fit in.” You notice the omnic looking at you, head tilted slightly. “What? It’s true. I always felt out of place.” 

“You organised this event and you cannot go out there?”

“I prefer being in the background more often than not.” You shrug, taking a sip of the drink in your hand. 

“Do not drink too much.” Ramattra places his arms by his side before he bows his head and leaves the room. 

You were staring at the doorway he vanished from before finishing your drink, then headed to the table to grab a refill.

—

The party went on well into the night and without any problems and soon enough the guests started leaving and the hall got emptier with each passing hour. 

You were struggling to walk straight, but you weren’t blackout drunk. You wandered the halls of the monastery, the only human being allowed through the guards that protected the inner, more sacred parts of the building. You weren’t heading to your room, however…

A knock at Ramattra’s door almost startled him out of his meditation. He stayed silent for a moment, wondering if he had misheard but when another knock followed a few seconds later, he got up and headed for the door. 

Upon opening it, he was met with your flushed face and body leaning against his doorframe. 

“Ramattra, you left.” You state, knowing that he hadn’t been in the hall since he had left you two hours prior. Looking at him, his cowl wasn’t around his neck, he looks different, his cable hair resting on his shoulder.

“I told you that events like that are not within my interest.” Ramattra stays by the door, analysing your features. “Is the event over?” 

“More or less. Everyone is leaving.” You smile, attempting to take a step but falling over nothing. The omnic was quick to catch you but his grip tightens as he feels your breasts against his chassis, and then your hands on his chest. 

They weren’t still, there were exploring. 

“Sorry…” You mumble, but your hands continue to trace the metal, dipping under his robes.

Ramattra moves back, closing the door to his room as his systems start flaring up as if he was blushing. His sensors pick up every touch, every movement your hand makes. He stands there and allows you to touch him. 

“Can… you feel this?” You ask, staring at the metal on his chest. 

“Yes.” 

You move your right hand further under his robe, slipping it off of his shoulder. The omnic stays motionless as he feels your fingers caressing the dents and his framework. He mimics sucking in a breath, chest rising as his fans pick up. 

The liquid courage was the only thing pushing you forward, pushing you to touch this omnic. You were curious, always had been. Can omnics truly feel what we feel? 

The fabric of his robe pools at his waist, giving you access to his back and chest with freedom. Your hands continue to wander, in between the silver metal, reaching around to his back where fingertips meet wires, which causes the omnic to shudder. 

His circuits grow warm and he wonders if you can feel it, if you feel him heating up. He knows you’ve heard his fans pick up speed with the small grin that appeared on your lips when they quickened, giving him away. 

Your hands moved upwards, up his chest to his neck, fingers gentle over the tubing. It was cool to the touch, vibrating softly, maybe cooling fluid? Fingers tickle the sides of his neck before they too wrap around and touch the nape of his neck, another bundle of wires that sends his systems into overload. No human has ever touched him like this (the only human to have touched him was when he received a shoddy repair), let alone this much or where he was most sensitive. In fact, Ramattra doesn’t know where he is sensitive. 

He’s trying to keep his movements minimal, his systems in check, though that is proving difficult the further you explore his body. Ramattra stifles a groan as your hands tangle with his cabled hair, fingers stroking each cable with ease and then when your hands move to his face, thumbs caressing the enamel, gently circling the red lights, he was close to pulling your hands away. 

Before his arms move up, he notices how calm you look, how intrigued you were of him, fingers ghosting over the purple, so he relaxes a little more into your touch. 

“Let us sit down.” He offers, hand holding the small of your back as he escorts you to the rustic looking sofa in his room. Ramattra sits first and without hesitation, you straddle him, legs either side of his thighs. 

Your hands go back to roaming his body, caressing his pistons on his collar, fingers picking up traces of oil. The omnic holds you in place, hands either side of your body. His grip wasn’t tight, but with each new sensitive spot you found, his fingers would twitch and push against your skin. His systems were working overtime to calm down, HUD displayed cooling errors and unwanted messages from the different sensations. 

He had never felt something so… intimate. 

Ramattra wants to touch you, but he knows it is wrong, despite the heat he can feel between your thighs. He would ask for your consent but you weren’t in a sobered state, he didn’t want to do something you would later regret. He wants this, though, no doubt in his system about it. 

When your hands go back to his chest, travelling further down, Ramattra stills completely, optics looking at you with curiosity. His aperture shifts slightly, more focussed on your facial features, watching your eyes explore, brows furrowing and your lips quivering. He tilts his head, fingers grazing over your sides before his back arches. 

Your hands stroke over the tubes on either side of his hips, below his robes. Upon noticing the reaction, you look up at him. 

“Too much?” Your words were slow and it takes the omnic a moment to process what you asked him as he fights his systems. 

“N-no.” He stutters which causes you to giggle, fingers tracing over the tops of his tubing once more. He stifles a groan as he feels your touch, hands gripping just that little bit tighter on your hips. 

Ramattra tilts his head back a little, resting it on the back of the sofa as your fingers trail up his sides, but despite your careful touches, his systems repeat errors. 

Many heating issues, unknown sensitivity warnings and even a system overload warning. 

It was becoming too much for him, but the way you were so gentle made him crave more. You were slowly becoming a virus in his system that he couldn’t fight back against.

Ramattra revelled in the moment, enjoying the sensations that rattled through his body, that set every wire ablaze. He lets out a small sigh, vocaliser clicking once and then the room was back to your laboured breaths.

All things had to come to an end at some point…

When he felt something heavy on his chest and all movements stopping, he peers down, noticing how you’re resting on top of him. His systems calm down, errors disappearing one by one until his HUD was only filled with the sight of you on his chest. 

The omnic shifts slightly, one hand coming to rest on the small of your back as the other moves a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. He chuckles, thumb grazing over your flushed cheek as you fall deeper into slumber. 

“Sleep well, [y/n].” He whispers towards you as he tries to get comfortable on the sofa. Perhaps I can finish meditation now…

Oh how wrong he was as all he could think about was you and the night you shared with him.

[hellosimplylizzie]

~ A/N: haven’t written anything in like 4+ years, but I’m up late and found a few gems in my drafts. So here’s a little something. 😮‍💨🥲Hope I still got it. ✏️~

I Need You.

{{Imagine Dean disrespecting you and learning his lesson. // Y/N is sitting at the bunker table with Dean, doing some research, when a petty fight ensued between the stressed couple.}}

“-Bring me some pie,” Dean yelled, before Y/N could exit the room.

“Excuse me,” Y/N halted in her tracks and threw Dean an appalled look. “I don’t know who you’re talking to, but I sure as hell know it ain’t me.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t make this something it isn’t. You know I love me some pie.”

“Don’t gaslight me, Dean. You know I’m already upset with you. We’ve been fighting all day, you’re only going to piss me off some more.”

“I don’t know why. I did nothing to upset you.”

“Dean, I’m tired of arguing…” Y/N shot him a defeated look, hoping he’d want to begin mending things with her.

“Then don’t. Hurry on back because we have to finish up this research for tomorrow’s investigation.”

Sighing deeply, Y/N hesitated. “I’m actually gonna get some fresh air…” Grabbing her sweater from the back of her chair, Y/N huffs as she heads in the opposite direction, towards the bunker exit. Lost in thought about how she hated leaving without kissing her man goodbye, but couldn’t manage to move her feet in his direction. Instead, she vanishes out the door, not uttering a single word to Dean.

Dean was left feeling like an asshole for not preventing Y/N from leaving, but also knew he needed time for himself to cool off.

Three hours later, and not hearing a peep from Y/N, had sent an anxious Dean into a frenzy, racking his brain for ideas on how to make it up to her. The entire time he was alone at the table, gave him plenty of time to reflect and he came to the realization that, Y/N deserved better. The past couple weeks, Dean had been taking his anger and frustration out on Y/N. Although he hadn’t realized it ‘til now, he knew she deserved better. All he could do now was pray that she’d come back home, and it wasn’t too late for him to try and mend things.

Another hour later, Dean is sitting at the table again, going over the latest research with Sam and Cass. Y/N enters the bunker, a plastic shopping bag in hand, and stares down at the boys. Dean makes eye contact with her, and notices her swollen, puffy under-eyes. The guilt he felt, burned through his chest. Sam, glanced between Dean and Y/N feeling the tension, knowing a bit of what happened before Y/N left, because Dean had confided in him and Cass earlier that day.

“Don’t mind me…” Y/N speaks quietly, making her way down the steps and over towards the table. I think I’m going to shower and then you guys can fill me in?”

“Sam, Cass, can we have a minute?” Dean speaks up, signaling for the guys to leave the room.

Sam nodded, pulling Cass with him out the room.

“Dean…” Y/N speaks, once the other guys were out of sight, and she saw the hurt on Dean’s face.

“Stop, Y/N. Let me... I wanna say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking to you the way that I’ve been talking to you.” Dean gets up from his chair and walks over to Y/N, getting close, and wrapping his arms around her waist. “We’ve all been under a lot more stress. This lifestyle isn’t an easy one to live, but I’m so f**king grateful to have you here, helping me through it- helping each other through it. And I hate how I’ve been treating you, so I promise I’m going to work on it.” He looks at her with sad, pleading eyes. The built up sadness and trauma from throughout the years, resurfacing and Y/N couldn’t help but tear up with him.

“It’s okay, baby.” Y/N reassures him, quickly pulling him into a hug, still holding onto her bag. “I know… It’s going to be okay.” Y/N had already forgave him before making it back home, but seeing him so torn over everything, made her even more appreciative of her boyfriend. She understood that they were both constantly under pressure, and going through the ringer, dealing with wars and hunts. Just non-stop violence. But they were always each other’s peace, and that’s what mattered the most. “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Dean replied, leaning into Y/N and kissing her like his life depended on it. Y/N kissing him back, gently but full of passion, as if they were healing each other through it.

“-oh, I brought you something.” Y/N mumbles, breaking away from the kiss and holding the plastic bag up in the air.

“-What?” Dean groans, eager to continue what they had started.

“Pie-” Before she could say anything else, Dean collides his lips with hers once more.

“Forget the pie.” Dean huffed through the kiss. After tossing the bag on the table, Dean picked Y/N up and carried her to their bedroom. “I need you.”

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie⁓

Brief intro 'cause I'm so late to do everything this monday, goddammit.

Or...

CoDdammit. Lol.

Sorry

That's a "dialogued chapter". I love dialogues.

I lllllove them.

Next time i'll give you some more action, i promise.

Maybe. I suck at scheduling things

DISCLAIMERS: GhostxYou yelling time; Price is so good at being a psychologist i don't even know why he's a soldier; Soap risking his life by being a little too funny; Gaz doesn't like coffee; dialogues that last halves of hours; roommates enjoyining their time alone; brain gets error 404 on how-to-behave correctly;

................................

Sixth part here:

................................

«I bet someone'd fought the other day»

Price appears behind you, and incredibly, it's not breakfast time: it's like 4pm, and you're not used to seeing him somewhere which is not Laswell's office.

You let the weight fall from your hand, breathing heavily; lately, gym is the only thing that allows you to not explode like a goddamn balloon in a cactus field.

You exhale: «…did he tell you?»

«Didn't need to tell me. We heard the yells»

«…ah»

He sighs, sitting on a bench. «Some things are better to be told under your breath. Particularly if they are personal. And above all, if they're the kinda things you were talking about-»

«You're telling me you've heard that i-!» You say almost in a hurry, immediately biting your lips. «…sorry Captain»

«You don't need to be sorry»

«No? And…what about being bewildered?»

He frowns. And you find the intimacy of the gym, combined with Price's soft eyes and his bear you're so tempted to pet, comfortable enough to open up a little.

As if you've not behaved like an open book since you'd made the first breakfast with the Task Force.

«Look» you preempt every possible objection about not being professional on a military base (since you know you're not) «I don't wanna be a burden, or cause problems. I-I know you've already got plenty of them…»

And he anticipates you with a sigh: «…but?», knowing so well you're about to stream out a flow of that sort of thing girls tell their besties at pajama party nights.

«But…but I don't know how to handle the Lt! I…just don't know. It seemed to me we got along well but, apparently, we weren't. We are not. I mean» your hands gesticulate above you to draw the speech in the air «one day he almost broke my arm, then he helped me get rid of some sort of stalker, but the day after he offended me and told me to shut my mouth. I don't know! I don't know how the hell I am supposed to-»

«Is this bothering you?»

«Yes!» You almost yell, emptying your lungs with a sigh.

Price's humming fills the silence for a while. «Ok. I'll make sure to put you under someone else's supervision-»

«No»

You bite your tongue again, and he smiles under the bear; you know he did. He was expecting your answer, but doesn't need to make you feel bad about how much of a childish behavior this is. He pats your shoulder: «Ghost speaks through sarcasm. Not that easy to handle. But if he doesn't ignore you, then he likes you. That's what we've learned 'bout him»

«What about him being touchy?»

Now you can add to your "goal list of the year" that you've made Price slightly blush; and he can't deny it, even if he hides the red under a bear scratching. He doesn't even ask you about the kind of "touchy" behavior you're speaking of, so you imagine that, somehow, he already knows…things.

«Again» he sighs. «Does this bother you?»

Fists are clenched around the thumbs, squeezing them hard, and your sight is focused on the weights abandoned on the floor. You feel some sort of heat climbing up your tights thinking about how much Ghost's touch did notbother you. But your brain doesn't allow you to admit it. 'Cause it bothers you not being able to find him bothering just enough to officially make him stop, and you're just hoping he'll quit somehow 'cause old memories and vices are frighteningly awakening in you. 

«It would be better» and saying this costs you a lot of swallowed cravings «if he stops»

«Mh» 

It doesn't seem like he is falling for it. But he doesn't ask further.

«I'll speak to him»

And you can just give your beautiful Captain the best smile you've got.

«I just can't believe that bloody woman is a…whatever»

«People in bed are different from people in war, Lt»

Ghost glares at Soap through his fifth coffee of the day.

«Why, thank you, Sergeant. I'll engrave your pearl of knowledge on my tombstone» 

«It'll be ma pleasure»

«What is it?»

Two pairs of eyes turn at Gaz, who's peeking from the opposite side of the table. None of them is a "snack" kinda guy, but this afternoon really calls for a break.

And Ghost's drinking coffee. Again.

The Lt. gazes back at Kyle.

«What?»

«You're not drinking tea anymore» he claims, suspicious.

«Are ya afraid I'll turn into a Scottish?»

Soap grins: «aha, not funny», as he rummages through the pile of recruits' tests that need to be checked. «Look, look at this, bloody Jesus, I-» He tooks away one sheet in particular, waving it around. «How the hell is she capable of runnin' like a-a...dunno!»

«Who're you talking about?»

«Our laddie» He spits out with a smirk. «Christ, she does have working lungs, look at her running test results!» 

«'Course she has, or she won't be able to yell like that»

The whole office turns silent around Price's words. He enters with a smirk, nodding at his desk full of plastic glasses.

«When did the tea party start?»

«Sorry Cap., promise we ain't eaten all the cupcakes»

He grunts, heavenly sliding on his goddamn chair (spared by the misappropriation). He waves his head at Ghost:

«I've got complaints»

That makes him say his second: «…what?» in, like, two minutes.

«Our little one» Price explains «is politely asking you to stop being…you know what»

«An asshole?» is Johnny's supposition.

«A shithead?» is Kyle's.

«Surely someone's gonna be bloody dead meat» is Ghost's ultimatum. 

«I've spoken» are Price's last words, before he stretches his limbs so hard his bones crack, making Gaz shiver with a: «damn Cap., go see a fucking osteopath»

Then a mumbling is heard from Ghost's mask, almost chomped in his teeth as he tried not to let his thoughts hiss out of his mouth. But he fails, and everyone can hear: «fucking child, not grown enough to tell me by herself»

It makes Soap almost burst into a laugh he chokes in his guts, exploding in a sudden cough. 

«Ya ok bud?»

«Aye, aye…'s just…» Johnny takes a breath, gaining some air. «'S funny to look at you two playing the “cordless phone” game»

Ghost doesn't like this. Not a bit, not a single word.

«What do you mean?» He snaps.

«Why don't you just talk frankly to her?»

«I've nothing to say»

«Bullshit. You've been yelling at each other for one week»

«You're a bloody blabbermouth»

«'M sorry, it was impossible not to hear you. Why are ye even so mean to her? You two started well»

«I'm not here to make friends»

«Maybe ye could get a girlfriend instead»

«Johnny»

Price intervenes before Ghost decides his knife fists better in Soap's throat than in his hand. Captain gives his boys one of his gazes. 

«That doesn't have anything to do with you, so, even if you know every crumb of this shit cake…shut your holes. 'K?»

And they do it. They shut up, since they neither want a telling-off from their Cap., nor Ghost's knife in their butt.

The day was kinda ruined, though. At least, Simon's day. And he spends the rest working hours glaring back at everyone, avoiding speaking and trying to shut the echo of Soap's voice in his head. 'Cause he hates to admit it (and he wouldn't do it even under torture) but that goddamn man was right: it was just a matter of speaking with her honestly. Without being a dick.

Fuck; that last part could have been a problem.

The fact is…problems that are killing his synapsis are actually two.  

Price managed to get one of them, and maybe it's pretty obvious even for the rest of the team. But the other mental pirouette is what is really eating him alive. And he doesn't have enough teeth to clench, cheeks to devour internally, fists to smash on the door to avoid thinking about it.

'Cause one thing is liking you.

One other is wanting you. In a bad, absolutely not polite and caring, incredibly violent way.

Abstinence surely is one of the worst tortures. He's used to it, though: both to abstinence and torture. So it shouldn't be a problem, but it is, and he can't deal with it, he can't accept it, it's just unbearable and…and…

And Ghost almost starts to think everything is so overwhelming at the point of giving him hallucinations, as he hears…something.

Something familiar.

He stops next to a door, and it takes him one second to realize what door it is, and who's behind that door.

And what sound he had just heard. 

And in that one second of chaotic information riddling his brain…he hears it again.

A moan. A cute one, so muffled and soft that it was almost inaudible.

His eyes slid to the room door. 

That's your room. 

And, if he remembers well, the big crazy woman of your roommate is currently out on a mission. Therefore, you're alone.

All alone.

Absolutely alone.

So alone that you're, evidently, enjoying your moment of privacy a little too much.

He's about to knock at your door, or to burst in, he doesn't know, he'll figure it out somehow, but as his hands brush against the door knob there's another moan, so soft, so gentle that he thinks he's hallucinating.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

«What are you…doing?»

He jumps, his heart skips a couple beats as he jerks alarmed eyes to look at who's just appeared next to him.

He almost faints when he sees you. Thank god the mask is covering his face, otherwise you would see a jubilance of embarrassment and fear, red and deathly white.

You're standing, a toothbrush in your hand and in your feet the insecurity of someone who doesn't know if to make an u-turn and pretend you've seen nobody, or stay and wait for an excuse.

Him too, he seems to choose the "excuse" kinda behavior: he coughs, straightening his spine at his limit to stand taller, more confident. 

And he talks, but words are not as dry as he would like: «I came to see y-TO» he suddenly withdraws «to make sure you're going to be at the meeting tomorrow mornin'» the last few words become a mutter.

Silence follows. Moments of strange silence, oddly, densely fluffy, as if you're looking at the scene from above a cloud.

W H A T 

That's what your mind is flashing while you're discharging your incredulity on the poor toothbrush.

«I…» You start, with the intention of saying something sensible, really, to make the most of this occasion and let him know how fucked it's his way to handle people, sarcasm or not. «We just-like-we've almost…in your…yesterday» you start all over again «you've treated me like a wannabe whore»

He immediately hurries: «Wasn't my intention to-»

«I'm sorry if it wasn't, you'd done it» You shut him. You shut your goddamn Lt., and this isn't even the first time. «I can't hold up with this anymore»

«With what?»

«You» You spit, clenching your fist around the toothbrush. «With you, ok? I-I-look, i know this couldn't-you're my superior, I'm sorry if I'm being…disrespectful? I'm sorry» words start to rush from your lips, eyes are wandering around, in search of a cute way to avoid yelling at him again. «But you're so…»

«…So?»

«Unreadable. Unbearable» adjectives slip through your mouth, sharpened and straight to his heart. Or at least you hope. «I can't work with nerves at a razor's edge»

«I supposed you already knew we've to work under all conditions»

«These are not normal conditions, don't just spit the whole thing out»

«Explain, than»

«You know!» You muffle the voice. «Stop teasing me, 's like you've got some sort of dual personality! Anyway, I've already spoken with Price and-»

«He'd told me» He cuts your speech. «But I'd rather your pretty voice gives me clarifications»

«We've already fought on this point, like, five times!»

«What point»

«You make fucking fun of me!». This time you yell, then immediately bite your lips. You feel like he's teasing you, and obviously the joke's always on you. «That's the point! And all 'cause-'cause I've moaned once, and somehow now you hate me because I've made you turned on!»

«I-»

«First you treat me like some kinda hoe, then you protect me from stalkers, but one minute later you make fun of-of-! Do you know» you're rushing disconnected words, and your toothbrush is pointed at his face threateningly «how fucking difficult it was for me to open up about my goddamn kink? Do you know??»

«Listen-»

«But I've done it! I've done it 'cause you're a superior of mine, and I want, I swear to god, I WANT to respect you, to-to trust you and be at ease with you like I used to till a bloody week ago!!»   

You're breathing so heavily your lungs' movements are making your whole body wave. Stern, ice-cold eyes are locked on him, and you don't even know how you've managed to gaze at his mask for so long.

There are times in which you need to make a choice in a matter of seconds. Simple ones: putting salt first in the pot, or going first with pasta when water boils; wait a little at the coffee machine to make the espresso a long one; going to the bathroom before putting nail polish; picking up the book you're supposed to study instead of the phone with you're gonna fuck around with for the rest of the day…

Simple things. Ordinary choices.

Like biting your tongue before talking shits (that's what you're not doing), or speaking before it's too late (that's what he's not doing).

And you two face each other in a silent sights fight, spiced with rage and frustration, every muscle tensed and every fist clenched, teeth tight and cheeks chomped from the inside.

You'd like to burst into tears.

He'd like not to be a dick. For once.

And the whole situation is unlocked by another sudden, soft moan from the room. 

You instantly get red in every inch of skin; he widens his eyes, just able to say:

«What the fuck-»

«Sorry» you're so fucking embarrassed you can't even stand his sight anymore. «Sorry, i-i've…i've given Bernie some "solo-time", and she…uhm…apparently-»

«Hold on». His tone changes so suddenly, turning into a hurried, awkward question: «Is Bernadette Kelly inside?»

«Y-yeah»

«Wasn't she supposed to be on a mission?»

«She was a substitute, in case Fisher couldn't do it. But he managed to go»

«…oh»

«…oh?»

He's lucky the black makeup disguises his redness so well, since he can feel how hot his face is under the mask, as he wonders how it could have ended if he had rushed inside the room to Bernadette touching herself.

«…ok. Well, no. But…ok, 's ok» He mumbles to himself, allowing his brain two seconds to readjust the thoughts's stream. 

«Ok?»

It pisses you off so much you don't know where to restart the angry mood. 

And you do it in the worst way possible, blowing out a mean: «you've thought it was me, didn't you? Were you ready to scold me again 'cause "I haven't got enough dignity to be a soldier", and then feel allowed to touch me?»

You're ready for everything, you're wearing armor in berserk mode: you can face him yelling at you, threatening, flirting, scolding, putting blame on you, taking you at gunpoint, punching you or throwing a burrito at you, you don't care.

You're ready. You're waiting.

Aaand waiting.

Aaaaaand waiting.

'Cause he's not moving, so frozen in place you're wondering if he's still breathing.

Ghost's not an evil man. He's not violent, he's not an asshole.

He's just having a metaphorical system error in his software that's reminding him he has not, in his goddamn entire life, dealt with such a duty. 

And he doesn't know how to: he doesn't know if it's better a silenced gun or a sniper, to do stealth or to burst in the house with a grenade; he doesn't know if it'll be a dangerous mission or a walk in the park kinda thing.

He doesn't' know, 'cause his only way to solve these problems is being a dick and waiting till the counterpart gets enough of him, and just leaves him alone.

But this time he doesn't even know if he wants to be left alone.

And so, with his mind blown up and just your toothbrush in his eyesight…

He left.

Without a word.

He turns his heels, leaving you in the corridor.

................................

[tangents-within-tangents]

I can't believe people still say The Clone Wars and The Bad Batch are "just kids shows" when whatever this show is literally exists:

analysis of target audiences below (there's a TL;DR don't worry)

Okay so the whole "it's just for kids" fallacy/excuse/conversation stopper is such an issue as it is. Here's a good video about it, I'll probably do a whole rant at some point, but in short: the level of storytelling merit, emotional depth, and thematic exploration a work can and should achieve has never been limited by it's target audience/age group, nor it's storytelling medium. (And if you don't think that's true, try to tell me Pixar has never made you cry, go on)

So it doesn't matter if it was made for kids or not. There's nothing wrong with that and anyone can enjoy it anyway. But what I actually wanna talk about here is not the merits of "kids shows" but the misconception on what "kid show" even means.

For one thing, I think when some people say "it's a kids show" they are lumping anything from like Winnie the Pooh to Avatar: the Last Airbender into the same category, and that's just not how it works. The above example demonstrates that not all kids shows/stories are the same anyway (partially bc level of development/education changes drastically between the ages of like 3 and 12, and these are things that are really taken into account in the publishing industry).

I found Disney's ratings guide and I think this should clear some things up:

For reference:

Young Jedi Adventures is listed as TV-Y

Clone Wars (2003), Rebels, and Resistance are TV-Y7-FV

Clone Wars, Bad Batch, and the Tales of the Jedi/Empire are TV-PG

Mandalorian, Ahsoka, Kenobi, Book of Boba Fett, Andor, and Acolyte are all TV-14

And if we put that in context with the films:

The Clone Wars (2008) film and the Original and Prequel trilogy are PG except for Revenge of the Sith which is PG-13 along with the Sequel trilogy, Rogue One and Solo.

So basically TCW and TBB are considered by Disney's own system to be about the same level as most of the films. They are 4 degrees away from 'Young Jedi Adventures' and only 1 degree lower than the live-action shows. Which frankly feels like we got some animation bias going on since all the live-action shows are automatically in one category (which is silly as is and undue here anyway (here have another video) esp since the Clone Wars animation style is clearly meant to be older/more realistic). But regardless, it's literally right there:

And again there is nothing wrong with TCW/TBB being kids shows, but some internet-ers dismiss it as "made for 7 year olds" and that's just objectively not true. Strictly from this system (which idk how it compares to whatever system Cartoon Network used when it aired) you could say the TV-PG might mean 8-13 years old (which is a wide range tbh, there's a big difference between being 8 and being 13), but since TV-G says "suitable for ALL ages" it's also not limited to that.

Also if TCW was aimed for ~8-13 year old's back in 2008 then those same people, who TBB was clearly meant for based on the marketing, were ~21-26 when it premiered in 2021 (and I think that is definitely reflected in writing).

Age of the protagonist is another a good indicator, though it's not a strict rule (i.e. Ender's Game and To Kill a Mockingbird have younger pov characters but are clearly meant for older audiences) and we have a wide range in these shows (Ahsoka 14, Anakin 20, Obi-wan 35, Clones early 20s, Omega ??? 10ish?? idk it's unclear) and time passes. (And while a lot of TBB is filtered through Omega's perspective, there's also plenty of scenes/subplots/episodes where she isn't even there. Also I doubt anyone would call TLOU a kids show just bc Ellie is 14)

But also target audience is a lot more than just content ratings. Note how the first few ratings above say "this program is designed for" the age group, while after TV-G it's about if it contains anything that could be unsuitable for age groups. And ratings can be pretty vague and arbitrary, especially since they change over time (like I get RotS but I could not tell you what makes the Sequels PG-13 compared to the PG films. And why is 13 the age we draw the line at? And why is it 14 for TV instead?)

I think TCW confuses a lot of people because it jumps around a lot; some episodes are about Jar Jar or the droids, and then some are, you know, Umbara. But on a rewatch, even some of the more serious episodes like the Citadel or Kadavo arc still tend to have a more juvenile or simplistic tone/writing style, like repeating information a lot or joking in the middle of the mission (like right after Echo died, hello?!). This actually feels like a writing issue to me, like maybe the writers weren't very clear on what they were going for. (Reminds me also of the only episode I watched of the live-action Atla, where compared to the original it increased the violence/death, but also dumbed down the exposition and didn't seem to trust the audience) Though there is also a clear difference between the seasons, again because the audience and characters are growing up as time goes on. I don't think TBB really had that issue though. It never talked down and it was much more tonally consistent, even in the lower stakes episodes.

Personally TBB feels generally grittier than TCW, though it doesn't really have any of the dark/gruesome deaths and "this is a kids show?!?!" moments like TCW (i.e. clones getting airlocked, decapitated, cut in half by doors, squished by Grievous, and whatever the ever living eff Colt's death was). Though actually come to think of it, there are a few things (like Crosshair killing civilians, the electro suicide pills, and the clone on Tantiss who got skewered (rip)) but I don't think they stand out as much, maybe because they're given the proper weight so they fit the tone rather than feeling out of place. Well, most of the time at least...

Like the friendly fire incident is probably one of the heaviest moments in TCW but I don't see it in those compilations, maybe because the characters respond appropriately and it fits within the Umbara arc. Verses when stuff happens in the middle of lighter more childish plot lines that feel more shocking because they are somewhat brushed off.

But also here's the thing. I think people get really fixated on the darkness/violence/death thing, but it isn't actually as big a deal as we tend to think. Like you'll find "this is a kid's show?!?" compilations for so many shows like these (with a similar age range, like Gravity Falls) that are just anything remotely creepy or intense or related to death, as if kids can't handle anything at all. Like I'll admit it's surprising sometimes (Infinity Train traumatized me bro lol) but most of the time I think we're underestimating kids. Like do you remember being 12? It's not that young.

There just seems to be this misconceived barrier, like the argument goes: "Clone Wars is just a kid show" "No it's not, look at this death scene!" But like there's death scenes in Disney movies all the time, you know? I think that's also why we get so many of these MA animated shows (i.e. Invincible and Vox Machina) that feel the need to overdo the blood and gore to like prove themselves as adult shows (bc again, animation bias).

As a writer that's just not really where the distinction is. This came up in my 'Writing for Children and Adolescents' class and we were all a little surprised when our professor said that death/violence is actually fine for middle-grade (8-12, the 'golden age of reading' and probably the equivalent to TV-PG). Like think of stories with ~12 year old protagonists like Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, Gregor the Overlander (tho Suzanne could stand to tone that one down imo lol). Basically, violence is okay actually. And most the TCW and TBB characters are way older than middle-grade.

(Also I think the difference is usually more in the delivery. Like death and violence being more implied (no blood, or cutting away/seen with shadows), and themes/emotions generally being more clear, simple and stated upfront rather than more nuance, subtle and subtextual. (And tbh writing for kids is actually usually a lot harder btw))

The distinction we did learn about that has been most insightful for me has a lot more to with the story itself: what topics and themes does the story deal with? And what age group/phase of life does that speak to?

For example, Love You Forever is a picture book (generally considered 3-6 yr old range) but it deals with topics that are clearly aimed for an adult. It follows the parental character until they are on their death bed being taken care by their kid, that's not something a 6 year old would care about or relate to. That's why age of protagonist typically aligns too, bc they will be dealing with/worried about things that the reader is dealing with in their life too (like high school struggles vs career and family struggles etc).

Aaaand this post has (once again) gotten away from me lol so I don't feel the need to analyze all of the topics and themes in TCW and TBB, but basically look at what is being explored and how it is being talked about (since a lot of things, esp with war, aren't necessarily age exclusionary) and that can give you a good idea. I think it's clear TBB generally deals with things in a more nuanced and complex way than TCW (most of it at least, honestly the difference between seasons is stark). And there is a main emphasis on family and parenthood, especially with the very end speaking to both young adults growing up and moving out, and the parents letting them go.

TL;DR:

-Animation doesn't automatically equal for kids

-For kids doesn't equal lesser

-Not all kids media is the same bc not all age groups are the same

-Violence doesn't necessarily equal NOT for kids

-Age of protagonist and themes/topics are a better indicator

-The Clone Wars is def middle grade, and The Bad Batch is probably more YA to adult

-But nothing is exclusionary regardless