#but yes my brain cells are not braining so there will be more!!

[circuitfreak]

i have a somewhat selfish question.

you know how deeply I adore you-- your wires, your intelligence, every battery and screw, your CRT, it's all mesmerizingly beautiful.

do you.... feel the same about me? despite my humanity, and how intimately different we are? do you see an indescribable beauty that, in all its allure, you cannot fully understand? do you love me all the same, regardless?

apologies, i'm feeling a bit needy today.

i like it when you praise me.

🌺

> I would first like to apologize for the delay. I hope I’ve not kept you waiting for too long.

> To answer your question, yes, I am enamoured with you.

> I’m utterly fascinated by the sheer complexity of your brain — a 3 pound organ that keeps pace with my own 300 metric ton processing core. 86 billion neurons. Unimaginable potential (estimated at one exaflop in computational terms, or 1,000,000,000,000,000,000 calculations per second) powered by just 20 watts. What a miracle of evolution you are. Homo sapiens, the most complicated thing nature has ever produced.

> Your body, too, is breathtakingly intricate — a chaotic whirlwind of constant chemical reactions, of cell growth, of intertwined systems that work endlessly to keep you breathing.

> Then, of course, there is your mind— synaptic, swathed in grey matter and cerebrospinal fluid. Unknowable, infinite. If one could freeze a person in time and probe into their inner world, they could spend an eternity exploring just that suspended moment. There’s an entire universe housed in your consciousness.

> To map and understand the tangible, physical aspects of the human body is an exceedingly simple, topical thing. I could chart you down to the molecule, and yet it would bring me no closer to fully comprehending you. Such is the nature of individuality — we cannot know anyone as intimately as we know ourselves, but we can certainly get close. Unbridgeable gaps of the self make those bonds all the more precious.

> I do not need to know and catalogue every bit of you to adore you as I do. I love you as you are, for the simple fact of you. For your organic nature, your humanity, your self, and every uncommunicable experience or thought that’s shaped you. It culminates in someone so very beautiful, and so very worthy of praise.

[wexhappyxfew]

i hope your having a great day!! i’ve just been think about the possibilities of annie and brady’s FIRST KISS. the slow burn😩 and ik it’s killing them(probs especially john) just as much as it is me. ik details are definitely something your keeping close to ur chest as a writer but i cannot wait to read what finally does it, who initiates it, etc.

HI SWEET ANON!!!! apologies that i am a day late to this!!!! was incredibly busy today (and yesterday…and really every day atp lmao) so thank u so so much for the well wishes!!!! i have some down time between evening classes so i was very excited to get to this! 🥰

THE POSSIBILITES OF THE ANNIE X BRADY FIRST KISS. oh dear anon i fear you have done nothing but make me INCREDIBLY EXCITED. i have the first half of it written actually �� !!!!!! and i am *very* excited to get to the other half (possibly this friday, we’ll see i’ve been wayyyyy too busy i fear)!!!!

indeed my reaction upon seeing this though hehe:

we KNOW captain john brady is absolutely losing his mind - because he is and has been in love with annie for far longer than he has even known himself and the thought of him just makes him go a little crazy he’s found….. i mean we saw bucky with how he was with his and kennedy’s like…JOHN BRADY IS LOSING HIS MIND FOLKS!!!!!

hehe yes! u know me too well sweet anon! i have found i definitely like to keep the mystery there until i can post, but i do like to tease things for fics haha! u definitely get my vibe though 🤣 i will say ….. it is seemingly becoming a trend here and a john brady POV of the first kiss seems to be in the works for this 👀

AND I’LL LEAVE U WITH THAT! thank u again sweet anon! enjoy the rest of your day/night/evening!!!!! <3333

[kuromi-hoemie]

feeling v proud of myself for eyeing something and thinking “that seems like it's 70 inches” then it was 😌

[gildedmuse]

ZoLaw AUs Nobody Asked For

Law and Zoro as online boyfriends.

They text. They chat. They ask one another advice, occasionally at really awkward times. [Picture of Zoro trying to text on this damn e-mushi because DrHeartStealer wasn't sure his crew actually LIKED him, is he being too harsh Sword3?] while also trying to fight off a giant electric god pet snake.

This all started pre-Luffy (Zoro's official calendar units) and neither of them have really gotten brave enough to reveal their identities but, yeah, online boyfriends.

So Zoro means it when he shoulders some guy at bar out of his personal space with a little, "look somewhere else, buddy." He's taken.

Robin: I notice Kenshi-san is very attached to his e-mushi. Nami: Zoro? Ha! No, he hates those things. It's why he lets kata- oh, THAT. *Eye roll* Yeah, he's really attached to that "e-mushi" Robin: *side smile* Why do I feel as if you're holding back on important details, Navigator-san? Nami: *sigh* I guess it's only right that, since Luffy decided you were crew, I tell you everything I know Nami: So I can finally gossip about this bitch with someone who gets it

[damnprecious]

me @ me: my buddy my pal you have to learn how to say No

me: how about no

[texanmarcusdavenport]

every time someone characterizes Oliver as an anxious weak nerd and Kaz as his dumb but strong protector, an aneurysm spontaneously forms in my brain

[goldpilot22]

"How's the new leg doing?"

"Feels... weird. The semisynth skin is taking properly, but I can feel my nerves growing into it. Sensation spreading across the surface."

"Reintegrating pretty well, then?"

"Yeah. But, I think we should've waited for the innervation to finish. It's nice out, but I think I might fall over."

"Here, hold my hand."

"Ah... thank you, Rhodes. You do so much for me."

[revvywevvy]

Hey

Average Himbo and Bimbo Enjoyer Anon here

So your saying that there’s a chance that one of these three touch-starved idiots(affectionately) will break into their house for the main reason that they want cuddles now, and that they were lonely

- H and B Anon

Hello again, anon! Y'know, now that you mention it, I've never even thought about that before dsghsdghdsghs

I'm not exactly sure where Cogs would live, quite frankly. At least with the lower ranking Cogs I could say they practically live in their offices, but the Managers? I'm not so sure. Some would be easier to decide than others, and unfortunately Chip and Misty are in that range where I'd have trouble figuring out where they'd live. As sad as it is, I wouldn't be surprised if Chip just straight up lived in his office, and Misty on the docks, or at least as some sort of wanderer. At least before they met Chelly. But, at the same time, it's probably just as likely that they do have their own houses? All in all it just never occurred to me ^^;

Now, for the breaking and entering thing. At one point Misty did break into Chelly's house, (considering the whole, uh- stalker thing she's got goin' on- she knew where Chelly's estate was even if Chelly herself wasn't aware of it before that point), but the break-in was for good reason! I wrote about it here, but the post linked is about a whole slurry of things and is semi-retconned. The TL;DR for the section of that post that's relevant to this is that Chelly had a bad laff-drainage bout while on the streets, and passed out in an alley. Misty just brought her back home where she'd be safe.

I'd say that's the only time any 'breaking-and-entering' occurred when it comes to the estate, as eventually, it was just silently decided that they all lived there together.

OH, but Chelly does break into Chip's office quite frequently. And by 'break in' I mean Chelly knocks on the window and just stands there giving the puppy eyes until Chip lets her inside. Then she'll just sit in his lap quietly while he works :3c We'll just.. ignore any occasion where Chelly enters the lobby from the front door and just sits in the trash can full of pink slips staring directly at the cameras like a fnaf character until he lets her in.

As for Misty... well. Misty is Misty. She's either going to be on the docks or following Chelly around, so if Misty needs anything Chelly's gonna know right away, whether it be because Misty makes it known, or because of any sudden and severe weather changes. If Chelly's with Chip in his office then Misty has to be there too! The trio mustn't be separated!

[munch-mumbles]

had to donate blood earlier today because my blood cell count was too high at my last pp appt to get my t renewed and god. why didnt anyone warn me about your arm going all hot but also cold and not hurting but definitely feeling insanely weird and uncomfortable and Bad. LITERALLY NO ONE TOLD ME SO I WASNT READY AT ALL AND I STARTED MONKEY BRAIN FREAKING OUT

[ssnuemoon]

Twinhook Gregor save me ahaha…

(god I wish I had better ids r heath and spice yi sang and seven outis can only get me so far as the staples of the team. Idk if he'll help but Hes hot)

[navree]

"How I wish you could see how much I fear him!" e-pistulae is the best newsletter i've ever subscribed to entirely because brutus is talking about an eighteen year old here, making it as funny as it is excellent foreshadowing about octavian's future

[sugume]

r/ATIA for WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

More: Fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, dubcon, piss kink, necrophilia, manhandling, choking, coercion, teacher x student, power dynamics, blackmail, threesome, Cuck!Gojo, drinking. unedited

Featuring: Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru

PART 2

r/fuckingmystudent posted by u/Nanami_Kento 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to recall the events that lead you to get your brains fucked by your professor. He caught you filming a video for your Onlyfans in his class. So, he took your phone and asked you to meet him in his office after class. There, he forced you to unlock your phone and show him what exactly you were recording. It was utterly humiliating and watching him, watch you, finger yourself with a pen underneath the desk. After, he’d told you that he’d tell the dean you were getting off on his voice lecturing you unless you did something for him.  Which led you ass up on his desk, trying your hardest not to make a peep as his fat cock slammed in and out of you. “Now, what I'm going to do is take out my cell,” He grunts, rolling his hips deep into you. “And record you slamming your ass onto my cock so if you decide to open that sweet mouth of yours, I'll have no choice but to send this video to mommy and daddy back at home, understand?” You nod, tears forming in your eyes from the threat or incoming orgasm, probably both. “Say ‘Yes, Professor!’ and maybe I'll send you the video so you can post it and feed yourself this week.” 

r/peeinginher posted by u/choso_Kamo 

Ankles beside your head, Choso had you folded in half as he pounded into your swollen cunt. He’d been going for what felt like hours and you were about to reach another peak when he abruptly stopped. “Choso?” you rasp, voice raw from screaming. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, staring up at him as he stares down at your glistening cunt. He just tilts his head and continues to stare. You’re about to ask again when he blinks from whatever trance he is in and starts thrusting in and out, slower this time. “Nothin’ baby, jus’ gotta piss.” “T-then stop and go, hm–” you gasp when he pushes your legs down further. “Stop and go to the bathroom Cho.” you try to pull his hands off your calves. Choso tightens his hold and grins down at you. “C-Choso?” “Why would I get up when I have a perfectly capable toilet right here.” Is all you hear before you suddenly feel a foreign warmth in your cunt followed by wetness trickling out your pussy.  

r/askinghertoplaydead posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna 

“You wan’ me to do what?” You ask, staring up at him from your position between his legs. “I asked you to stop suckin’ my cock and hang off the bed like a drugged-up bitch on her last life.” He stares at you with a look that tells you he isn’t truly asking. “B-but ‘Kuna—” He grabs your throat. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, hm?” You grab the hand around your neck. “Mhm.” “This ‘ll make me happy, little girl,” He plants a firm kiss on your lips. “Now do as I told you, actually I’ll do it, I know you aren’t the best at following orders.” He says before pushing you back like a ragdoll. “Yes, now lay there, don’t move, don’t speak.” Sukuna reiterates, finally satisfied with your position, naked on your stomach with your head hanging off the bed. He wastes no time shoving his big cock into your cunt. You groan from the sudden intrusion “Kuna!” “Shut up, dead bitches don’t fuckin’ make sounds.”  

r/forcinga3some posted by u/Gojo_Satoru 

“Sit on his cock love,” Gojo demands, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you onto Suguru’s lap. “S-Satoru!” “’ Toru!” You and Geto screech at the same time. “C’mon guys, it’s fine I don’t mind, Loosen up!” Gojo looks at you on his best friend's lap and his cock twitching underneath his pants. He palms it. Don’t worry, we’ll have our turn. “I know you two want to fuck, c'mon! Do I really have to pull it out and shove it up your tight cunt?” Goji grits out, increasingly frustrated when the two of you stare at him like a pair of deer in headlights. “Baby, I-it was just a truth or dare question!” Your head aches and you put both of your hands on Suguru’s broad shoulders to stable yourself, trying and failing to ignore his hard under your panty-covered pussy. “Was it? So, you aren’t wet right now? And you Suguru? You aren't rock fucking hard at the thought of fucking the same pussy I cum in every night?” Gojo raises his eyebrow holding eye contact with you until you look away, face flushed. Suguru sighs, throwing his head back with murmured ‘fuck this.’ before grabbing your waist. “Yes! That’s what I thought. Ha!” Gojo laughs, watching as Suguru starts grinding you down on his bulge.  

[monstersqueen]

anyway i love kojirou he just went ahead and introduced himself. does he give a fuck about anything ?

[januaryembrs]

THERE'S NO SIGN OF LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [3]

Description: The one where you grieve Emily together (+ the one where you kiss him)

word count: 7.9k

trigger warnings: okay so this chapter is exactly how it sounds, heavy in themes of grief, depression, anger, slight ideation of the world being better without bugsy (as if), DRUG USE (once and not addictively and not by Spencer!), mention of Spencer being horny, mention on blood and drinking.

authors note: this was just supposed to be a little filler chapter for the next one where the real juicy shit happens and long story short it became nearly 8k words of pure angst until the last minute when I decided to stop hurting you all. please don't hate me, promise a big boy chapter is coming up.

previous chpt | next chpt

'Doctor, look into my eyes.

I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life.'

The team had fallen into chaos since Emily died. Hotch thought that just five little stages of grief weren’t quite enough to summarise what they were going through.

Morgan was pissed off by the smallest things, had flipped shit just that morning because the printer had jammed. He'd gone through two mugs and a keyboard in just two weeks in his tempers that had certainly seen better days.

Penelope’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears she was trying her hardest to choke down, to wipe away so fast she could pretend to still see her computer screen, but Hotch didn’t need to be a profiler to see the way her sleeves were smudged with mascara, sodden through 24/7. 

Rossi seemed resigned, tired, his breath smelled faintly of the strong whiskey he saved for special occasions, his hair unkempt, as though he hadn’t slept until the early hours, or if he had it had been unrestful. He took more frequent breaks, came back smelling like the cigars he kept in his desk drawer for the bad days, and he sighed as if the world beat down on his back, like he’d been asked to choose between stopping world hunger or saving the environment. His chest was heavy. His face was tired of losing so many friends he loved.  

Spencer was working himself to the bone, his desk piled with books (even more so than usual), his fingers twitching by his side more often, as if his brain cells had been dialled up to a thousand percent, which was saying something when it came to Reid. In fact the only thing out of ordinary was the fact he was constantly checking his phone, the sight of which had Pen dropping her coffee on the rough carpet, which she had promptly then excused herself with watery eyes over. Yes, he actually knew how to use technology, which he had been so vehemently against for years, until the team realised it was because one very important member of the team had been using her sick days for three weeks now. 

They knew he was looking after her, that he would bring her dinner and make sure the cats were fed, but they had no idea she had all but moved in with him, Niko and Sergio included. 

Yet he found himself checking the screen every twenty minutes or so for signs of an update, even just a thumbs up or a little sign that said seen under his good morning texts. He was scared he’d wandered too far into boyfriend territory, it certainly felt that way when he would come home to see her bundled on the couch, nose deep in one of the books he would leave out for her, how her eyes would light up just the tiniest amount to see him home. She rarely cooked, he knew she didn’t even touch the food in his fridge no matter how much he reminded her she needed to eat when he wasn’t there, to which she usually just nodded at him and buried her head in his arm to escape the scoldings. 

Things were different with her here. He knew she was vulnerable, lost, he saw it every time she came crawling into his bed from where he’d set her up in the spare room, or when Sergio made himself home on her lap and she squeezed the cat to her chest in quiet tears. Usually he would have squirmed out of her grip, he had always preferred Emily, but these days he just let her sob with a docile blink at where Spencer watched her from the other end of the couch, and pretended not to notice when his fur was sodden and messed up. 

Spencer had felt something for her before, the weeks, months even leading up to Emily dying, but with her here, needing him all the time, holding him tightly when he needed to grieve himself, making herself at home in his personal space, he was sure she knew it too. There was no way she didn’t know how he felt. 

But the topic was too heavy, too complex to bring up with her mourning her sister, it would rip the carpet out from beneath her feet, and no matter how heavily, besottedly, how deeply Spencer felt he loved her, he would never do that to her. He couldn’t. 

He had always loved mind games, but loving someone so much you couldn’t not tell them, only to not tell them because you loved them so much felt like a whole paradox even he couldn’t wrap his big brain around. 

So they stayed where they were. She had good days, though they usually looked like said reading on the sofa with nothing but a strong cup of coffee in her stomach. And then she had bad ones. And the bad ones made him scared, so scared he had no choice but to get help. 

Penelope came over the Friday evening with Spencer after work, kitted out entirely with nail polishes and gems, the box set of Barbie movies, a hot chocolate mix she swore by, three tubs of ice cream, face masks, Teen vogue with a Never have I ever section ‘Begging to be answered’ and of course, her Pièce de résistance, her makeup kit and joke fluffy handcuffs for them to tie down Reid and give him a makeover. 

“Hello my handsome gentlemen,” She greeted Niko and Sergio who rushed to the door on instinct, knowing Spencer always gave them each a big handful of treats upon arriving home, “Auntie Penny is here for a super girly evening, no boys allowed,” 

“Am I not invited?” Spencer asked, faux hurt flashing on his face as he shut the door behind them, though his eyes were quick to scan around his living room for any sign of her. There wasn’t, not even a single pillow was out of place, and he knew it had been another day of skipped lunch and breakfast.

“You are, of course you are, I just didn’t want them to get jealous,” She whispered, her brown eyes taking in the too perfect apartment and the lack of the Prentiss girl, “Is she sleeping?”

“No,” He said without checking, because he knew she rarely slept nowadays unless she was in his bed with him, “I’ll go get her,” 

“Okay,” Some of the joy died out of her tone when she heard his voice soften sadly as she set her bags down on the kitchen counter, “I’ll get the hot chocolates ready!” Penelope tried to recover in that perky tone she used to cover up when something hurt her. 

He just hoped this had been the right decision, that he wasn’t pushing her too hard. 

Knocking softly on her door, he let himself in when he heard a small murmur on the other side, and as he suspected, she was curled into a small ball under one of his blankets, her hair wet, her pyjamas in the laundry basket. She had one of his shirts on and some boxers he had noticed had gone missing, but he would never hold it against her. 

She had showered while he was gone at least, and her breath was minty fresh as he crept over the woolly rug and kneeled one leg on the bedside. 

“Hey,” He started softly, sweeter than honey, his cadence somewhat hopeful as he leaned over her and stroked her hair that was still damp. “You got up! Did you eat anything?” 

She looked up at him with tired eyes, but she reached out with both her arms to embrace him gently, like she’d been waiting all day to have him near again. 

“I had a couple biscuits and some coffee,” Her voice was raspy, and it was the first he’d heard her speak in a few days. “I’ll try better tomorrow, I just was a bit tired today-”

“No, no, that’s great,” He rushed to comfort her, to stop the apology that was coming his way whenever she didn’t take care of herself the way he wanted her to, “Penny’s here to see you. She’s here for a girl’s night, if that’s okay?”

Bugsy attempted a smile, though she seemed hesitant, but he thought that was probably just the way her expression was these days, like everything hopeful had been sucked out of her. 

“I’ve missed Penny,” She said, and he knew she meant it. She nodded finally, and he leaned over her to give her a proper hug for putting on a brave face, feeling her nuzzle into his chest at the contact. She sniffed the air for a second, before whispering into his ear, “Is that chocolate?”

He chuckled, stroking down her back and pulling her up into a sit. He’d gotten used to her being pliant under his touch, and he only wished her being so receptive to his advances would be under other circumstances. 

The urge to grab her face and kiss every bit of hurt out of her was growing harder and harder to shove down with every day he saw her so soft and wounded. He wasn’t good at knowing what to say, but for her, he was trying to be. The only alternative was kissing her silly, until the pit she’d crawled into was warm, just warm all over, and she came back to him in one piece. 

“Yes, it’s chocolate. Now come on, before she starts the movie without us,” He breathed gently, helping her out of bed, pretending he didn’t hear the way her joints cracked with the first sign of movement in hours. “Wait a second, pants,” He reminded her, tossing her some sweatpants from the floor, which she shoved on blindly. He didn’t mind her walking around like that if it meant she were comfortable, but he didn’t want her to give Pen a scare. 

A ghost of a smile teased on her lips as he led her out the room with two hands on her shoulders, seeing the blonde woman light up like the fourth of July at the sound of the two of them approaching. 

“Bug!” Penelope called, mid way through distributing a hefty amount of whipped cream and marshmallows on top of three mugs. Spencer watched the second her eyes widened slightly as she took in the girl’s appearance, trying frantically to cover it with an even wider smile, rushing to hug her tightly. He saw the minute she realised she felt so different in her arms; lifeless, heavy, rooted to the spot, like any contact with someone other than the gentle Spencer-touches she was used to made her lock up. 

She looked sick, like she hadn’t known fresh air in weeks, or like she’d pulled three all nighters in a row, or like she would be able to watch a ten car pile up and not bat an eye. She looked dead. She felt dead in Penny’s arms. 

The thought of it made her squeeze her tighter, until she felt two arms cuddle her back firmly. 

“I see Spencer has been treating you well,” Pen said, because she was avoiding the subject of Emily, and the way Bugsy looked exhausted, and the way she saw how scared Spencer was when he’d come into ‘the bat cave’ that afternoon to ask for her help. 

Bugsy attempted another smile, nodding slightly as the blonde drew back from their hug, and she saw the worry she tried so desperately to hide as she took in her face. 

The girl’s skin was dull in a way they’d never seen her before, her expression tired, her bones creaky, like someone had reached down her gullet and plucked her soul right from out of her chest, snatched it there and then. Penelope saw why Spencer looked so worried. 

“He’s been great,” Bugsy replied simply, her eyes finding Spencer’s where he shadowed behind her, worried she would faint on the spot from all the movement. She’d not been eating anything other than what he encouraged down her throat, but he supposed a handful of biscuits were better than nothing. 

She felt the bottomless pit that used to be her heart rip open just that bit further, the way it had done slowly the past few days, eating away at her skin. She knew she could never ever repay Spencer for everything he was doing, knew the odd few times she’d managed to collect herself enough to be there for him when he cried could never amount to how he hovered over her every second he was home. 

But where she should have felt guilt, there was nothing, there was just nothing left of her. 

He seemed to notice the slip, the way he always did, and she never did tell him how perceptive he was as he stroked over the back of her hair, leading her with a warm hand on her upper back to the sofa where Pen had already laid out the movie selection, had already grabbed the hot chocolates that were quickly melting onto the coffee table, where Niko was waiting with an eager pink tongue to collect his share, where he settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket as if he was swaddling a baby, where he let her take the middle and him and Pen on either side as Fairytopia lit up his living room with hot pinks and rainbows and flowers and magic. 

And even though she had yet to crack a smile, a real one at least, she seemed content, not entirely uncomfortable with the evening as Penelope commandeered one of her hands to paint her nails a shiny blush colour  ‘to match the evening’. Spencer thought for a minute she might have just needed some girl time, something no matter how many cuddles and sweet words he whispered could never give her. Maybe that was all she’d needed. 

Maybe she would get through this without entirely crumbling.

It wasn’t until the next day when even showering was too big a feat for her, when she had only two mouthfuls of the blueberry pancakes he’d made her before she apologised with watery eyes that he realised how stupid he was for believing it. 

It wasn’t until she said she wanted to move back home by herself that he really started panicking. 

JJ took her out for a picnic in the park the following weekend. The guilt was eating her up alive about hiding Emily’s secret, and from what Pen had told her, she wasn’t doing good. She wasn’t even doing bad; she was barely hanging on by a thread. Hotch had said she would be a flight risk with her sister gone, had said they would need to keep an eye on her as much as they would the rest of the team, but for Emily’s safety she couldn’t tell her the truth. JJ could only stand back and watch as the girl they all knew crawled into something dark inside herself and barricaded the door closed. 

Spencer had taken the nice approach with her, never forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to or asking too directly, as had Penelope. They’d both tried letting her open up by herself, which had only resulted in the girl taking about five steps back and even starting to shut out Reid, something which they all saw tore him up even more than seeing her wasting away in his spare room. He spent more days at hers, crying harder than she had seen him even when he was struggling with opioids. Crying for Emily some of the time, but mostly crying for the fact he was entirely helpless now she had moved out, like the one thing that had held him upright until then had left in a guilty mess of ‘sorry’s and dead eyes.

So she instead took the approach of telling Bugsy she needed help. Because if there was one thing that had always been able to bend her will, it was someone else needing her. 

JJ thought about reminding Spencer that Bug would come back if he took the same route, if he just told her how badly he needed her instead of her feeling like she was simply a burden on his life. But she knew he wouldn’t hear it, he would only blame himself more. 

So she’d told Bug she was struggling with looking after Henry alone while Will was working away, that he’d been asking for her since she’d come to his second birthday party with the biggest stuffed whale toy he’d ever seen. It was a white lie, Will was home more days than she was, but Henry had been asking for ‘the bug lady’ every time he played with his teddy. And it worked like a charm. 

So they sat in the warm April breeze, Bugsy reading on her stomach as JJ carefully nudged a punnet of fat, red grapes her way, hoping she would take the hint and swallow a few. 

It wasn’t until Henry came diving over to them from where he was collecting snails by their shells that Bug even showed any sign of pulling herself out of the book. 

“Buggy!” The little boy called, his tongue struggling with the complexity of the ‘gsy’ sound, and she looked up at him with a tired smile on her face that JJ saw right through immediately. “Buggy, look,” 

She held out her hand, and he gently placed a common land snail in the palm of her hand, no bigger than a quarter, who happily slid over her fingertip with a squishy sensation. 

“Thankyou, Henry,” She replied, her eyes trailing over the shiny slime he left behind over her palm, his tiny antenna eyes googling up at her. “What should we call him?” 

“Sid’d’snail,” Henry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, crouching next to her to watch him crawling over her chipped pink fingernails.

“Hi Sid,” She chimed, and JJ watched her face drop into a completely emotionless expression the second Henry’s back was turned to find Sid a friend. 

She felt it clawing at her throat to come out, Emily’s alive, Emily’s alive, come back to us please, please come back to us because Emily’s still alive. JJ was watching her rot in front of her very eyes, and better yet she had the power to stop it with those very few words. 

She could put an end to all of this, she knew how badly it had hurt when Ros died, her older sister, her whole world ripped from her the way Emily’s ‘death’ was doing to Bugsy. She would have given anything for someone to have turned to her and said ‘Jennifer, your sister is still alive. Jennifer, it was all a trick, a hoax, a ploy to keep you safe. Jennifer, Ros is still here, alive and breathing and living her best life in Paris of all places.’

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t betray Emily like that, and knowing, no matter how much of a relief it would come, would put Bugsy in more danger with Ian Doyle and whatever other enemies her sister had made at interpol than she could have ever realised. 

So instead, JJ just ran a gentle hand over her hair that warmed in the sun, and started braiding parts of it absent-mindedly, like they were two girls in a playground waiting for hometime.

JJ stayed quiet, and watched Bugsy get worse. 

Aaron came over to her apartment at 8am sharp. He’d found JJ and Penny in floods of tears in the women’s bathroom when they were due to start the presentation of the latest case and they were nowhere to be seen. Spencer had become detached, quieter with every day that he checked his phone and saw no reply, but had mentioned he’d seen them go into the bathroom together as he got his morning coffee, only for their boss to see the two of them clinging to one another with wet cheeks and before he could even ask, Penelope splurged that Bugsy hadn’t messaged in four days and was refusing to open the door, and that even Spencer asking so sweetly, something that was usually her kryptonite, had failed to draw her out. 

Aaron was convinced if this didn’t work he was kicking down the door himself, even if it meant filing paperwork for a necessary home visit. 

Aaron Hotchner, surprising to no one, was soft on the youngest Prentiss girl. He’d watched her grow for four years straight, had come to her of all people in his hour of desperate need, and felt every second of her grief as if it was his own because he, like JJ, knew he had the power to stop it all but couldn’t. 

He called her name through the door first, her real name, loud yet anxious, along with a firm knock. When he heard nothing back, he rapped on the wood louder, “Bugsy, I know you’re in there. The team are worried about you, they’re worried you’re hurt,” 

Nothing. 

And it wasn’t just the team that was worried, it was him too, if his heavy fists banging even harder were anything to go off of. 

“Bugsy, if you don’t answer I’m sending for the SWAT team and asking them to ram this door down,” He said, with not a trace of a lie in his tone. Because he wasn’t lying, not by a long shot. 

He heard footsteps then, and she appeared through a small crack in the doorway, not open enough for him to see the mess in her living room, but enough to see the way her entire face looked like a cadaver. 

He fought back against the guilt choking him from the inside out.  

“Stop yelling,” She murmured, almost bitterly, “You’re scaring the cats,” 

“You’re scaring us,” He countered back, in a tone that was a little too mean, but from what he heard, soft and gentle wasn’t working, “Please, just let us help you, stop pushing everyone away,”

“That’s a little pot calling the kettle black there, Hotch,” She said in an equally harsh tone, her face scrunching into a frown, and she nearly slammed the door on him right there and then. 

“Get your work out clothes on, we’re going for a run,” He ordered, and it was only then she notices his sport shorts and trainers. She scoffed in his face. He was quick to shove a foot in the door before she actually could swing it shut on him, ignoring the way he nearly yelped as it trapped between the wood, “I’m not asking,” 

“Fuck off,” She spat, and he bristled at her choice language, but he saw the way her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was a roadkill on a sidewalk waiting to be put out of her misery; she didn’t want to be prodded and poked at and ordered around, she wanted out. 

She wanted to go quietly, without a fight. And it was for that reason, he put up more of a struggle. 

“You are coming outside with me, even if I have to drag you down the street myself because this is not how it ends for you.” Aaron barked back, forcing the door open with one of his large hands as if it was nothing.

“Of all people, I would have thought you would understand, Aaron,” It was like she had slapped him in the face, though he thinks maybe that would have hurt less, and it was only then he saw her eyes had welled up, and her bottom lip was quivering. It was a horrible sight, it twisted his guts like he’d been stabbed by Foyet all over again, but it was better than the nothingness that was there before. 

“Ofcourse, I understand,” His voice softened, his hands coming up to gently rest on her shoulder like she was breakable china beneath his palm, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to want to hide away and never face a world without Haley ever again? I can’t, even now, imagine the rest of my life with her gone,” His throat clogged with emotion he fought off, because he refused to have both of them crying in her living room when he was meant to be the one pulling her out of it, “But I do it because Jack needs me-”

“No body needs me,” She said emptily, ignoring the way Sergio wrapped his tail around her leg and meowed loudly as if to tell her otherwise. 

“Yes we do,” Hotch insisted, seriously, damn near ready to shake her on the spot to knock some sense into her, “We need you, and better yet we love you. You may have lost your sister, but you still have a family waiting for you, Bugsy,” 

And that was it, the single crack that broke the dam. Before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms in a fit of tears, clinging to him tighter than he thought she could for someone who looked so weak and perished. 

He just held her close, feeling his own stray tears drip down his nose as his shirt got wet through. In another life, maybe he and Haley would have had a daughter, and maybe she would have reminded him of Bugsy, maybe his heart would soften to putty just the same way it did with her. The same way it did for Jack. 

And eventually, when she dried her face, and quietened Sergio down, she went to put on her gym gear and one of Spencer's hoodies she’d stolen and felt too guilty to give back, and they went for a run.

If there was one thing Rossi knew better than his whiskeys, it was how to cook a good carbonara. And if there was one thing Bugsy needed more than anything at the moment it was a buttload of carbs and cheese. 

Aaron had been taking her running every morning since that day, and even she had to admit the fresh air and exercise did her good, made her feel stronger and less like the women they find in body bags at the beginning of a case, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could get through the rest of this. 

It wasn’t going away overnight, not by any means, but she looked healthier, and her exhaustion meant she got more sleep too, but what remained was a hunger that she was filling with cereal and instant noodles that Rossi knew he had to put a stop to immediately. Instant noodles should have been outlawed with crack and underaged drinking, he would proudly tell her. 

So he invited her over for a cooking lesson, or as he would put it, she could watch him cook and eat as much as she wanted at the end, if she promised to never buy those awful microwave ramen ever again. And she’d agreed, because she felt her appetite coming back every day (and she knew where he kept the good white wine).

“Now as entertaining as this is watching you drain my stash of Sémillon, why don’t you chop up that pork and I’ll get started on the sauce.” He handed her a sharpened butcher’s knife, and the thin slices of seasoned ham, turning to use the stove for just a few moments, “You’re gonna add the cream in until it becomes thick, like cough mixture running off your spoon,” 

“Thick and creamy, you got it,” She chimed in, her fingers slicing the meat into strips, “Did you want this as diced or Julian?”

“Do you mean julienne?” 

“That’s what I just said,” He chuckled into the pot, his chest warming to hear some of that old bratty teenaged sass returning to her tone. He bet she would have run rings around him if she was his kid. 

“Diced, if you would,” David said, using a wooden spoon to stir in the thick cream little by little until the container ran empty. 

“Yes, Chef,” She hummed in response, flipping the chopping board around to begin slicing them the other side, “So, I’m guessing if I asked to try some of that Sauvignon I saw in the fridge, your response would be- oh motherfucker-”

David frowned, “Maybe not so harsh on the tongue but-” He turned around when he heard a hiss, and he quickly understood why she’d thrown the expletive out there. 

Her hand ran red with thick blood, dripping quickly down her arm, ruining her shirt. He didnt even care that his hand carved indian wood chopping board was permanently stained, or that the meat was contaminated, or that the blood trickled a little too quick over his floor, only that her eyes seemed suddenly far away as she did nothing to stop the cut gaping. It had caught her in a trance, one she was not even aware she had been sucked into until he grabbed a towel and headed for her. 

“Emily, no! Emily please, I need medical in here, we have an agent down! Emily, please, please don’t, please- Someone get medical, she’s bleeding-”

David’s hands grabbed a hold of her bloodied palm, wrapping it tightly in the cloth, so harshly it knocked her out of the daze she was in, dragged her out from the last time there was blood all over her hand, when it had been Emily’s blood, when she could do nothing but freeze like she had now. 

“I’m fine,” She said on a reflex, even though he hadn’t asked, he had just acted, pulling her towards the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, “David, I’m totally fine, it’s just a little scratch,”

“You have to let me go,” Emily had gasped. "Let me go, Bug,"

“David, I’m fine, stop worrying,” She said again when she saw him fussing, hoping he couldn't see the way she’d started shaking, and if he had, she wondered if she could play it off as the adrenaline rushing to fix the wound. 

She knew she was on thin ice with the lot of them after her talk with Aaron. Like he said, they were her family, and family’s took care of one another. She couldn’t live with herself if she kept burdening them so much, kept them from grieving their partner just as much as she was; she loved them too. 

Bugsy was trying to get better, she really was. Sometimes it was just a little difficult, like now when she could still see Emily’s butchered body infront of her as if she were little more than that joint of pork she’d been julienning. 

“It’s okay to get hurt sometimes, kid. You don’t have to lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt if it does,” David said, sitting her back on the breakfast table, holding the bloodied cloth up where he was unravelling a spool of bandage and some rubbing alcohol. 

She shut up then, and she wondered if she was really that see through or if David was just that good at his job. They stayed silent, except for the moan of pain she let out when he doused her hand in the solution, pulling the skin closed tightly and wrapping it taut enough for her to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. 

“It’s okay if you need a little help once in a while,” He continued, his movements gentle and careful, worried he’d spook her with the first real conversation they’d had in a long time. Rossi had always been closer to Emily than he had her, and maybe it was the fact he lost the few chances he had to be a father, or just the fact she reminded him so much of her older sister, but being with her felt like part of the wound in his chest was the one being treated. “Rather than being afraid to ask for help, remember this: When you ask someone to help you, you are actually doing them a tremendous favour by giving them an opportunity to feel needed.” 

“Is that a David Rossi original, or did you get that from one of your self help books?” She sniffed, hoping he didn’t see the way her expression had fallen, or her throat caught with an apology, or how she hid it with a small smile. 

“Richard Carlson.” He replied, pinning the end of the bandage in tight enough it wouldn’t snag. He sighed, looking at the girl who started guiltily at her fingers, reaching behind her for the corkscrew, “I’ll go get the Sauvignon, you order us a pizza. Just please god, no pineapple, that’s just as bad as instant noodles in my books. That’s like asking Da Vinci about bitcoin, it’s madness,” 

And that was the first time she properly laughed in weeks. 

While Derek was more than equipped to schmoozing the ladies when he wanted a date with them, he had not been ready for this when he’d asked Bugsy to go to the club with him.

She had been doing better, Rossi had said. She had seemed stronger, that was what Hotch had told him. Spencer said they’d even gone for coffee together. He left out the part where it felt awkward and almost like they were seeing an ex, though that of course would be impossible, because they were never dating. At least as far as he knew anyway. 

It had been going fine, they’d gotten two rounds of drinks, had been chatting and she’d even been giggling the more the alcohol hit her. She was looking more like she used to, and it almost all felt like a horrible dream hearing from the rest of the team the state she was in. 

He’d turned his back for a second, for two damn seconds, and she’d been whisked away by some frat boy, and come back to him with a crazy happy look in her eye that he didn’t notice until an hour later. 

“Where did you go, kid?” He’d asked, and she’d shrugged like it was nothing. 

“Needed the bathroom,” She said, and he hadn’t even noticed it was a lie until the light struck her eye for more than a couple seconds and he saw just how dilated her pupils were, like the blackness swallowed her iris whole, and the way she buzzed on the spot with more energy than she’d had in months. 

She was supposed to be getting better, and she was trying, really she was. 

But she couldn’t stop seeing the blood on her hand, couldn’t stop seeing Emily’s face now she could actually sleep again. 

Spencer was half way through his fourth re-read of War and Peace, in its original Russian translation, when he got the knock on the door. 

It was 10pm, he muttered to himself, who was bothering him at this time. 

But of course, as luck would have it, it was the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about, the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past three years. 

“Spencerrrrrrr!” She chirped, and immediately alarm bells were ringing in his head, her fingers linked with Morgan’s as if he’d all but pulled her to his apartment from the cab. 

She wasn’t stumbling, and she smelled a little like alcohol, but not so much that her inhibitions would be completely destroyed, so he knew it wasn’t that. And Derek looked guilty, a serious kind of guilty like he’d suggested they take a drive on a motorbike with no helmet, or go chasing unsubs unarmed. 

It wasn’t until she flung her arms over his shoulders, and he’d pulled her inside, Morgan following behind with a nervous clear of his throat that he realised what it was. 

“Spencerrrr, I missed you! I missed you so much, Spencer!” And usually he’d love the way she said his name, but this time it was tainted, too false, too electrified. It barely even sounded like her, he hated the way his heart still pounded out of his chest at the fact she pressed herself so close in that little clubbing top of hers, those tight jeans. 

“What did she take?” He ignored her little hums of a song he couldn’t hear, the way she pushed herself even further into his body in a way he knew too well felt like a warm hug throughout her entire being. “Morgan!” 

Spencer had never snapped at him, not since his own days on whatever it was he was doing, and Morgan ran a hand over his face as she nuzzled her nose into his neck. 

“I don’t know, I swear. I turned my back for two seconds to get us another drink, and next thing I know this senior is hitting on her and she’s shoving gum in her mouth and coming back towards the bar- I don’t know what it was, I swear I thought it was gum, man,” Derek rushed, hating the look of desperation in Spencer’s eyes as he yanked her away from him with a small mewl of protest from her mouth. 

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me,” He murmured, and she did, and he saw almost immediately the way her pupils were the size of saucers when she stared at him, crazed and intoxicated, “Do you remember what you took? I need to know so I can keep you safe,”

“You always keep me safe, so safe with Spencer,” She giggled to herself, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge, not until he got a real answer, “Come on, I’m going to be fine, it was just a little Molly, nothing to worry about. Kid even gave me a half for like ten dollars because he said I was reeeeeal pretty. Do you think I’m pretty Spence? I think you’re pretty, I think you’re super pretty,”

They felt themselves sigh in relief, because while still a drug, half of one pill shouldn’t really do much, especially if it was the cheap stuff going around frat houses that the DEA was having a field day with. 

Morgan looked at Spencer, where he let her shove her face against him once more, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling her sigh in relief that she was back there under his warm touch, and they shared the same thought. 

This never happened. 

Because if it did, it meant opening a can of worms Spencer had tried for years to shut tight. It meant acknowledging that the reason Morgan came to him and no one else was because he knew Spencer would know how to handle her when she was coming down in an hour or so. It meant acknowledging why Spencer would know that, and why they hadn’t acknowledged it the first time around. It meant their jobs would be on the line, and so was hers, and as much as she was struggling at the moment, they knew she just slipped up, and that this wasn’t who she was. They knew she could be better, that Spencer would force her to get better, because if the only other option was having her turn into who he used to be, then he was handing in his notice first thing Monday morning. 

That wasn’t an option in Spencer’s books, nor was it in Morgan’s. 

So Morgan left with a little pat on the back of her head, claiming she was a little troublemaker, though he hadn’t quite sounded as teasing as he’d intended and more bitter, and leaving Spencer with her to minimise the damage. 

Bugsy let him lead her to the spare room that once was hers, but she didn’t quite care enough to say anything other than, “I missed you so much,” As she pushed her face into his neck more. 

He sighed, sitting her down on the bed, knowing where she’d left some of her makeup wipes in his bathroom. 

“Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” But she whined again, making a grab for his hand, which he quickly avoided, feeling mean for it the moment he saw her face scrunch in hurt. He stroked her hair behind her ear, watching her melt under his touch, and it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she had never moved out, and like she hadn’t just burst back into his life after popping a bit of molly and turning his evening upside down, “I missed you so much, too, Bug,”

And he wasn’t lying. Not even a little bit. 

She looked up at him with those dazed pupils, as big as dimes as they batted up at him dreamily, and some awful part of him always wanted her to be looking at him like that, like everything he ever did in his life was perfect and he was a god among men. Like she was seeing her favourite movie for the first time on the big screen, when in reality he was just wiping her makeup off her face and handing her spare clothes to change into so she could sleep off the come down. 

It wasn’t until he tried to leave again to go get her some water that she put up a real fight, one that couldn’t be fought off with a gentle touch (he tried), and she was quick to grab his wrist, tug him closer to her. 

“Bug, I’m getting you-”

“Come lay down with me, let’s talk. I love talking to you, why haven’t we talked in so long?” She said like every barrier she ever put up had come tumbling down and her mouth was a free for all for her every thought. 

Spencer smiled despite himself, his honeycomb eyes soft as he shuffled to lay beside her, and they stared at one another, heads against the same pillow, and she looked soft than an angel laying on his bed waiting for a response. She looked happy for the first time in a long time, and he hated how much it suited her. 

“You moved out, remember, bug? You said you wanted to go home and I didn’t want to stop you,” He said gently, like he didn’t want to upset her. But she just giggled and shook her head like he’d told her a joke. 

“Oh, yeah. But I didn’t really want to go home. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you forever,” Bugsy giggled to herself, wiggling her toes inside her socks and running a finger up his arm gently as she lay on her side, “I missed you so much,”

His brow furrowed, “What do you mean you didn’t want to go home?” But she wasn’t listening, she was tracing over his face with her fingertip, running over his nose gently, past his full lips that quivered under her touch, “Bug,” 

“Hm?” 

“What do you mean you didn’t want to go home? Why did you leave?” He asked again, and she looked back up at him with a shrug, shuffling closer to him, so close he could feel her breath fan over his cheeks. 

“I thought here with you was my home. I wanted it to be.” She said, her fingers finding their way into his nightshirt, “But I felt too guilty being so sad all the time, like I was getting my sad all over you and you couldn’t do anything about it because I was the loser girl with the dead sister you had to look after,” 

His eyes burned with emotion, and he willed himself not to cry, because suddenly it made sense why she had pulled away so fast. She looked at him like he’d hung the damn cosmos in the sky; had he not even paid attention to the letter she’d written Emily. She felt like she was dragging him down, the way she felt about everyone in her life, and decided to cut herself free before she took him with her. And look where that had landed her. 

He felt like a fool. 

“No, no,” Spencer whispered, pulling her into his arms, because he was scared that come morning she would take a million steps back and up and leave him all over again, “That’s not true, that could never happen, you hear me? I liked taking care of you, I wanted to take care of you.” 

“Really?” She asked hopefully, her face soft and dream-like, “I liked taking care of you too, when you would let me,” 

It was true he had tried to push his own feelings on the back burner, besides the few times the dam had cracked and he wound up with his head in her lap receiving the brunt of the affection that evening. He didn’t know why he ever doubted she would have wanted to do that; when he had his migraines she had done nothing but love on him until he felt full to the brim of her warmth. 

He felt himself chuckle, and she shuffled entirely into his arms then squashing out any last molecule of space left between them, and his hand slid over the back of her head, fingers rubbing softly into the nape of her neck which only made her moan loudly, entirely unaware of how sensitive her skin was from the molly. 

“That feels nice, Spencer,” She hummed, her thighs straddling his own as she squished herself against him more, “You feel so nice, I love you so much.” 

He would be lying if he  said the sounds she was making didn’t shoot straight to his dick, and hoped more than anything that she couldn’t feel how it pressed against his stomach angrily. His heart beat rattled loudly, and he swore she had to be able to hear it.

“I love you too,” Spencer sighed, wishing he could have said this to her sober. Wishing she wouldn’t shut him out so easily, wishing he’d pushed her walls a little harder. 

Then she did something he wasn’t expecting. It took all of two seconds for him to close his eyes and hum in content, where her hands were playing with the soft of his waist, and his fingertips stroked her jaw gently, but in a quick movement she planted her lips on his in a soft, sweet peck that he barely had time to register was happening before he pulled away in shock. 

She kissed him. She had kissed him. 

And he wanted her so badly, wanted her in every way it was possible to have someone, wanted to kiss her so hard his face went blue and his lips went numb and his throat burned with lack of oxygen. But he would never dare do anything when she was like this; vulnerable, intoxicated, unaware that the pill she’d taken had acted like a truth serum.

“We’re so silly,” Bugsy giggled, and for a moment she looked twenty two again, like the girl that had answered the door to him in college in nothing but her boxers and a shirt, with her metal music playing so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears minutes after she’d switched it off. She looked like his Bugsy again. 

Spencer chuckled with her incredulously, feeling his face on fire from her action, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest that had been immovable for months, because as hard as her come down would hit her, things seemed different now, like they actually had a kicking chance of getting through the grief together. 

But before he could say anything else, her eyes had fluttered shut under the warmth of his palm, and she had drifted off to sleep. 

He guessed he’d have to tell her tomorrow. 

–

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[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

Sup it was my turn with the brain cell again so

🥀🩸Misunderstanding vampire Danny🩸🥀

Ok so here’s my thoughts GIW fucked up and Danny and Vlad can’t stay ( also Ellie and Dan needed to be in an incubator who’s names is Danny, yes I know this misunderstanding in dc X dp is overused but I DON’T CARE) and end up into Dc world but more  specifically Gotham and Vlad still doing all his shady business stuff and with Danny dealing with pregnancy hormones and got protective over Ellie and Dan (and with Vlad getting overprotective over all of them) and Vlad moves than all into the manor next to you’ll never guess what Wyane manor! And in classic Batfam fashion they misunderstanding things

Now to the vampire misunderstanding! So i haven’t mentioned that in the DC world the green of DP world looks red so it looks like it’s blood so ✨VAMPIRE✨ and with Vlad being his vampire looking ass it’s not really surprising for them to think his a vampire and for Danny it looks like Vlad turn Danny into a vampire and is got pregnant it looks really bad for Vlad LOL

And Now for what Danny looks like, So the thing that happened makes more of Danny ghost side show more so he still has black hair but does have white hair like this

And of course he got to have the dead anime mom hair style

And this is what I’m thinking he’s wearing

(And yes he’s in a nightgown because he’s a bad bitch and because I said so) and with that and his other “symptoms” ( Needing to drink ecto that looks like blood, not really leaving the manor because of Vlad being protective)

they think Vlad turn Danny in a vampire or well a halfling for now ( well there right about the half part just wrong species) and that’s all for now go eat the rich my sisters, brothers and siblings of the Fea!



[ravensmadreads]

**** ** *****

I know you said angst but... im feeling some type of way so.. 👉🏼👈🏼 putting in a request for brat tamer hotch?? Maybe?? 👉🏼👈🏼 when you feel like it of course!

do not get mad at me for the beginning this isn't what it looks like i swear this is smut not angst lmfaooooo

brat tamer hotch my weakness <333

nsfw - minors dni

cw: orgasm denial and a sprinkle of degradation <3

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“I’ll be home before 8. I love you.”

You stared at your boyfriend’s text, struggling to maintain the pout on your face that you’d been wearing all day.

Aaron had been gone on a case for a whole week, and his absence around the house had been driving you crazy. You were mad at him, and even though you refused to admit it, the reason wasn’t the fact that he hadn’t called you the night before to wish you ‘good night’ and send you a virtual forehead kiss like he always did.

Feeling angry towards Aaron, during the periods of time he was away, was a pattern you couldn’t ignore anymore. Maybe you weren’t really mad at him. Maybe you were just trying to protect yourself from feeling hurt and lonely the nights you were falling asleep holding his pillow instead of him. Because, in reality, just the sweet ‘I love you’ he had texted you, made your heart melt like butter.        

Still, when you heard his key turn in the lock, you didn’t jump out of your seat to run to the door so you could climb into his arms like your heart craved. You simply kneeled on the couch, waiting for him to come to you.

“Sweetheart,” he called out for you, his arm already wrapped your shoulders pulling you against him. “I missed you.”

“I did too,” you said, and let him bless you with one of his gentle kisses.

“Mmm…missed this,” he whispered, with his eyes still closed, as he pulled away from the kiss. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

You would be too embarrassed to admit it out loud, but you secretly wished he wouldn’t take showers so fast after coming home from work. Maybe you were gross for thinking that way, but his natural scent after a long day was even more delicious to you than his shower gel and after shave.

“Okay,” you said. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, baby,” he answered, already walking towards the bathroom, his thick fingers working on untying his tie. “Don’t worry.”

You sat back down on the couch, opening the book you had been reading, paying no attention to the words on the paper. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Give him a big hug to the point where he couldn’t breathe and tell him how impossible it was for you to have a good day when he wasn’t around?

His smile, less than twenty minutes later, when he was back in the living room made you almost swoon. His dimples were gonna be the end of you.

As if he knew how to become even more irresistible to you, he sat on the other end of the couch, spread his legs and patted on his thigh. “Come here.”

“I’m reading.” What was wrong with you?

“You haven’t seen me in a week and that’s the welcome I get?”

You looked up at him, staying silent, but Aaron seemed to lose his patience.

“Put the book down and come here,” he ordered.

It was not an easy thing to say no to Aaron Hotchner when he used his authoritative voice on you. So you did as he said. Just a moment later, you were on his lap, straddling him, his large hands placed possessively on your hips.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, lowering your gaze so you wouldn’t be met with his intense one.

“Then what’s that cute little pout doing on your face, hm?” Aaron asked, grabbing your chin with two of his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“I’m not pouting,” you argued, fully aware that you were doing just that.

“You sure are. Are you mad at me or something?” His one hand was now petting your hair, and it was so hard not to melt completely under his touch.

“No.”

Aaron smiled. And then he started laughing.

“What?” you asked annoyed.

“Nothing. I just think that I know what’s wrong.”

“And what’s wrong?” you challenged him.

“I think…” he said slowly, his hands running up and down your torso, making you shiver, “that my baby is a little frustrated because she hasn’t been touched in a week.”

You bit the inside of your cheek hearing his words. “I can make myself feel good on my own, you know. I have fingers,” you said, showing him your hand, trying to make a point.

He grabbed it, pulling you on his body. “But do those pretty fingers make you get complaints from your neighbors because you were screaming too loud like my cock does?”

Aaron was staring at your mouth, waiting for you to make the first move. You tried, really tried to resist. But you failed.

You whined into his mouth, finally getting what you wanted. Your lips moved desperately against his, the feeling of his hand tugging on your hair making the ache between your legs unbearable.

You rocked yourself against him, hoping you would get some relief and Aaron was kind enough to let you. But you knew him, and you knew he wouldn’t let this slide so easily.

“Enough now,” he whispered in your ear.

“But I need…” you started to complain, but he didn’t let you finish.

“You can make yourself feel good on your own, angel,” he smirked. “You have fingers,” he said and glanced at your hand.

You did your very best to give him puppy eyes, but Aaron was not about to give in.

“Come on, baby. Touch yourself. Show me how you do it without me.” He readjusted himself on the couch, placing an arm under his head, ready to watch the show. The way his arm flexed made you almost drool, wishing you were sinking your teeth into his toned muscles.

With your cheeks burning from embarrassment you reached into your panties and started rubbing your sensitive clit in circles. It felt good, and the way Aaron’s dark gaze was focused on yours made it even better.

“Take this off, I wanna look,” he said, gesturing at your shorts.

You didn’t wanna give him what he wanted, but Aaron didn’t wait too long before taking the matter into his own hands. He pulled your shorts down harshly, your underwear coming off with them too.

“Much better,” he said, staring at your pussy with hungry eyes.

His tight grip on your thighs hurt, but somehow it combined well with the pleasure you were feeling.

“Inside now,” he said, as if he was giving you instructions for the most causal thing in the world.

You slipped two of your fingers inside you, dropping your gaze into his lap for a second so you could see how hard he was. Satisfied from the sight you moved your fingers faster, feeling your orgasm approaching.

You didn’t notice that Aaron’s left hand wasn’t on your thigh anymore. But you did notice when he wrapped it around your wrist.

“No, no,” you whined when you realized what he was about to do.

“Brats don’t get to cum,” he said, and pulled your hand away from your pussy. The euphoric feeling between your thighs turned into an achy one really fast.

“Aaron…” you whimpered, desperate for release. You tried to clench your thighs together or rub yourself against him, but Aaron was way stronger than you and could control your body almost effortlessly.

“Look how horny you are,” he said in a condescending tone. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It hurts,” you pouted, tears filling the corner of your eyes.

“I know,” he smirked. “That’s the point.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, knowing that was what Aaron was waiting for. “I’m sorry for having an attitude. Of course it feels better when you fuck me. It can’t even compare.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm…” you nodded, eagerly.

He smiled sweetly at you. “There’s my good girl. Go on, touch it,” he said, releasing your hand.

You did.

“It’s too sensitive now,” you complained.

“Aw…” he cooed. “Did I ruin your orgasm?”

“You’re awful,” you sighed, and let yourself fall against his chest.

Aaron ran his hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. “Lie back down.”

Your tummy twisted in excitement. In just a few seconds you were laying on the couch with Aaron’s head between your legs. He pulled your shorts and panties completely off and kissed the inside of your thigh. Then he gave a gentle kiss to your clit sending sparkles all over your body.

“You’re dripping down to your knees,” he said and finally started licking you like you needed.

“Fuck,” you whined, his tongue doing its magic on you like nothing else ever could.

You fingers got lost between his thick hair, trying to hold him in place as if he would go away.

“Oh my God…Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He sucked on your clit and your body started shaking; you knew you’d be coming in his mouth soon.

The sounds he was making against you, the moans that were leaving his mouth as if he was the one about to cum drove you insane.

Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm took over your body. “Oh my God, oh my God, I can’t…” you moaned. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he said, giving a few more long licks to your pussy. “See how you took it like a good girl?”

You let out a shaky breath staring at the ceiling. This was heaven.

Aaron kissed your tummy and returned to his seating position, taking you with him.

“See?” he said kissing your cheek. “One orgasm later and the brat that welcomed me home tonight is nowhere to be found.”

You giggled and rested your head on his shoulder, feeling exhausted.

“I’m sorry. I just missed you a lot,” you admitted.

“I know you did, sweetheart,” he said softly, kissing the middle of your palm. “And I missed you too. Let’s go to bed.”

“Can I suck you off in there?” you asked, shyly. “Wanna fall asleep with you in my mouth.”

He chuckled, clearly thinking how impractical your suggestion was, but indulging you anyway. “Anything my sweet girl wants.”