#freaks like that. HELP this is just like scenario specific

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Ok do all of those but also identify why the specific unhealthy coping mechanisms you HAVE are appealing for you.

Like okok. Here's one of mine. Sometimes when something bad happens or I see a bad discourse take, I zone out and start thinking and imagining about awful things happening because of that thing or take, and getting worse and worse and worse as I spiral until I have a panic attack over a thing I MADE UP. I do the worst case scenario and "and then and then-" with the worst case scenario for THAT worst case scenario and keep going down the line of the most unrealistic, awful chain of events possible where every single thing goes as wrong as possible at every single opportunity. This makes me!!! WORSE!!!!!!

The reason I do that is because- little autistic fact about me- I hate unpredictability and I have this NEED to feel secure and safe and prepared. It scares me when I'm not prepared for things, or when I feel like I don't know what's going to happen; especially if it could be something bad. So when I'm upset, the first thing I do is seek reliability and a sense of knowing what's going on next.

So in my head, my brain was going "uh oh a bad thing happened!!! What if bad things keep happening??? We need to prepare ourselves for these things that might happen!!! Quick, brainstorm bad things so we can know they're coming before they happen!!!!!"

But instead, I can make myself feel secure and prepared and like I have an idea of the future by asking Seán (or a calm person in general, but he's usually calm and he's always right there. If he was freaking out too tho I'd pick my mom or smthn) about it and having a discussion on what could happen because of whatever the thing is. And because the other person is calm, they can think more logically and shoot down things that wouldn't work IRL. They can tell me what's actually most likely to happen, and why. They can work through the "what if"s with me and help me understand the actual reality of what's going on.

Sometimes when people are mad at me I worry they hate me, want me dead, and are actively trying to murder me, and will successfully both find me, travel to where I am, attack me, and kill me, and then I'll die helplessly while they cheer about it. All of those are huge leaps, and anyone there to talk w me about it would go- "hey, actually, let's pause for a minute because those are big jumps and don't make sense."

Seàn is the best at doing this because he's my husband so he knows me and how I think very well, and has the most practice, and also because he's naturally very smart so he does good logics and explainings, but it's also just. Important no matter what!!! Being able to run through possible futures in a way that's actually grounded and isn't just my worst nightmares fullfils my need to feel like I know what's going on without making me MORE upset and panicked.

So what YOU CAN DO is list all the unhealthy coping mechanisms u have, go down the list for each and figure out what need/desire you're relying on that specific one FOR, and find a way to fullfil that needs WITHOUT hurting urselfs!!!!! You don't have to make a literal list either, just think with your thinky brains!!!

I hope this helps :DDDDDD!!!!!!

why do all the alternatives to unhealthy coping mechanisms fucking suck. does anyone have things that actually work because Im finally pulling myself away from something I know isn't making anything better but I don't know what to do instead

[saetiate]

hi cora!! if you have any thoughts to add to karasu taking a liking to you wearing loafers, i would be most glad to hear them… 🫣 otherwise please feel free to ignore this ask!! wishing you a pleasant day, friend! 💖💖

context

hi lovely!! i just think karasu fits with a bit of a good girl reader sooo well (he can fit w other types of ppl too but that’s for another post)

i do think he has a little bit of a corruption situation too but not in the same way as oliver at all also he genuinely feels bad about it

like you’re ordering a drink from a cafe and the barista says something that makes you giggle and he’s like awh you’re so cute. and at the same time he’s also like god i wanna have her over the counter. and then he catches himself thinking it and he’s like what the fuck internally to himself LMAOO you’re just being you and his mind is spinning bc he wants to treat u right but also everything else

he’d treat you so right tho like i imagine your first time w him is like. he’s always checking your reactions the whole time. asking if you’re okay. making sure you’re not hurt and it’s not too much like he’s so considerate and careful because he wants this to be good for you i think bc of this it also takes a bit of getting to know each other before he starts to show how much of a freak he really is LMAO LIKE he’s a little afraid to show you. like he's tryna hide so bad that he wants to make you come over and over again in succession with just his mouth. not just because it might be intense for you but also because you'll see how insane it gets him when you look at him and how badly he needs it like he does not think he'll be able to hide how he feels once it's happening.

takes a little coaxing. like a session that’s more intense than usual and he’s apologizing and you have to tell him it’s okay and that he can keep going. or bringing it up to him upright that u wanna try something. then you start getting into like real kink sex with him with overstimulation and denial and bondage. he is KING of aftercare though like always making sure you’re okay, if you need anything, preparing water and food and creams to ease any pain or abrasions and helping you in the shower/bath

yeah veryyyy considerate man with his good girl just tryna do right by you

[mad-hunts]

this is very specific, but barton does tend to hold grudges against people if they wronged him in the past, especially if they did something major to him... like almost killed him for example. though it's honestly to the point where it's kind of ridiculous because (and to provide y'all with a scenario) he is the type of person to not accept a ride from someone who did him wrong years ago, even though he's literally soaked because it's POURING outside jsjsj like, dude, who cares about what they did to you??? just ACCEPT THE DAMN RIDE LMAO

[mariska]

me at 1 am when i have to wake up at like 7:30-8 AM at the latest and partake in an autism assessment appointment when my brain almost never naturally wakes up before like 9:30-10 am and i have medical trauma and prior misdiagnosis triggers acting up in my head and i just got my period and i have endometriosis so im in agony and i start to feel a full blown depressive panic attack coming on even though i've already taken my anti panic medication and also i have adhd and cant get myself to turn on fortnite and play for like an hour to try and de-stress because of all of the above plus executive dysfunction

[isamoa]

“ WHAT GETS THEM HARD! ”

jjk men x f!reader ࿐ MDNI.

ᰔ、summary. jjk scenarios on how their dicks get hard ofc

ᰔ、tags. (ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso), nsfw, female anatomy, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, sexting, masturbation, etc.

ᰔ、a/n. these are just my silly depictions. if u dont agree idgaf lol

SATORU GOJO has the dirtiest mind and the highest sex drive. his pants definitely start feeling a little tighter at the sight of you eating a popsicle or something. specifically in public. he would have no shame in it either—casually forming a smirk on his face and dropping a snarky innuendo about the way you’re eating. ��can you suck me off like that when we get home?” he’d mumble from across the table, his eyes peeking out from the top of his glasses, a smirk plastered on his lips; wet from the constant licking of his tongue. your eyes widen, a small ‘pop’ sounding from your mouth when you took the frozen sweet out to gasp at the man in front of you. “gojo! are you serious?” you’d yell in a whisper, looking around to see if anyone had heard him. “you’re right,” he’d sigh, standing up from his chair to reveal the very prominent and very obvious bulge in his pants. “we should just do it now.”

SUGURU GETO on the other hand is a polite man. like satoru, he’s a real freak in the sheets—but not as shamelessly. the littlest things can get him hard for sure, but unintentionally seeing your undergarments would really get him going. like an accidental peek at your panties from under your skirt, or a shirt thats a little too see-through showing off the print on your bra. he wouldn’t say anything of course, not right away. you would just be minding your own business one minute and then he’s dragging you towards the bedroom the next. “sugu- what are you-?” you would ask in a confusing tone, craning your head to look at the said man who was now behind you—pushing your stomach up against the countertop; a single hand brought up to grope your breast while the other laid flat against your hip. “your bra is showing.” he’d let you know blankly; an attempt to distract you while his hand slid it’s way into your pants. you would look down in response to his comment, noticing that your bra was in-fact showing like he said. unfortunately for him, you also already noticed the hardon pressed against your back.

TOJI FUSHIGURO gets hard from eating pussy. simple as that. he will get embarrassingly sloppy—juices coating his face and dripping down his chin, loving every second of it while his cock slowly grows harder. emphasis on grows. and if you think for a second that he does it for your pleasure, think again. this man will eat you out purely for his enjoyment only. his eyes are closed and his hands are squeezing at your thighs—legs thrashing uncontrollably from the uncomfortable pressure in his pants that’s about to come undone. “toji- let me help you.” you’d beg with a whimper, dragging your hand from the top of his head down to his cheek when you noticed the constant shuffling of his legs and the crease in his eyebrow. he’d laugh darkly, the breathy snicker creating a hum between your core that made a whine escape from your lips. “im fine mama,” he’ll say cockily, pulling a hand away from your leg to undo his zipper. “ill cum soon, you don’t gotta do ‘nun.”

CHOSO is a needy guy. his face will turn red at a simple flirty text—but send him a slutty pic and he might just cream his pants. fully naked or dressed in lingerie, his favorite or not, he will definitely feel some pressure down below. he might ignore you for a while, uncertain on how he should reply; if he’s even able to. “fuck- couldn’t wait till i got home, could you?” he’d whine quietly, trying his best to keep his voice down from the bathroom of his office job; one hand holding the phone up to his ear while the other rushed to unbuckle his belt. “sorry cho,” you’d apologize from the other line, voice rather faint as you posed for another picture to send him. “when are you coming?” you ask doubtfully just as his phone vibrates with another notification from your contact. “now- im comin’ now baby.” he replies with a huff, phone almost slipping from his ear. “really!?” you try to clarify—much more excited than the first time. “no, i mean im cumming. right now.”

[mihanisms]

sub l&ds men visuals

— so....my first time doing this type of post but. i need to spread my femdom agenda. guys the 13 sub LI drafts i have on my account WILL see the light of my page one day i promise 😭 in the meanwhile have this...also u need to be logged into twt to see most of these!!

— nasty freaky twitter porn with tiny blurbs. mostly focused on pegging, bondage, or overstimulation. ur strap is occasionally referred to as cock. i hope my fellow freaks enjoy, love u all mwah mwah <3

the first time you had suggested pegging to zayne, you hadn't expected him to be so...okay with it. of course, there was a bit of convincing needed, but as a doctor, he had both the medical knowledge and money for preparation — you seemed to want it so badly, after all. he just didn't expect how much he'd like it.

— he's completely gone

— he's completely gone pt. 2

— fucking himself onto you

— extra ; helping him destress after work (pls he's even wearing the same fuckass outfit)

rafayel had been one hell of a brat the entire week, teasing you by sending pictures of himself dolled up for you, sending voice messages of him whining and moaning for your cock, and even going as far as to sending videos of him playing with himself, all during your precious work hours.

— "this pretty toy is all for you to use."

— "please cutie, come home already. can't you see how much my cock misses you?"

— "you can make me feel better than this dumb vibrator."

finally free from work on the weekend, you show him the consequences of his actions.

— whining and crying already, when this was just the beginning of his punishment?

— being tortured stupid

you took it upon yourself to break down sylus. always somehow so irritatingly composed, you tried so many different ways to have him openly submit to you, when all you had to do was take the lead in bed. now was that tricky? yes. was having him moaning and letting you take control something you would trade entire universes for? also yes!!!!

— getting his ass fucked by you is more relaxing than he'd like to admit

— the more intimate the moment, the louder he moans for you

— seeing how far you could push him until he breaks

— roleplay; he's being a brat (he's mostly an obedient sub, he just wanted to feel how you would fuck him if he wasn't)

since xavier had long since gotten into the habit of waking you up with sex, it's only natural that it catches onto you as well.

— he's always just so sensitive when it comes to you

— morning handjob (this is sooo intimate subby xavier im in love)

— fucking him awake

— extra ; THIS IS SO HIM AHHHHH

multiple scenarios for caleb bc i can't think of one specific story to follow with videos...

— no-touch is the worst punishment for him :(

— but there's just something so addicting about it (sado-masochist switch much?)

— he could break out of the cuffs so easily, but the look on your face as you torture his cock is too sweet of a reward

— extra ; the shit he sends you

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 1: Xenophilia/Oviposition

Warnings: 18+ smut, dry humping, dirty talk about alien sex

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie tells you why alien sex is so much better. Maybe he can even show you.

A/N: Decided to join kinktober fun because why not so I’ll be posting to catch up . Posting something risky and weird on the main so lemme know what yall think

You’ve known Eddie to be quite stranger ever since the day you met. It was evident considering the differences in your friend circles. He is a pop culture nerd and you’re the popular cheerleader. Somehow, his weird vibes were able to pull you in, unafraid of the odd rumors associated with him. Hell, you took it as a challenge then. But you’d soon come to fall in love with one another, appreciating the differences as it made teaching each other all the more exciting.

But you’d say the best part of being with Eddie is that neither of you had to hide any of your most intimate and sometimes down-right bizarre secrets from one another.

Like when Eddie learned of your secretly nerdy enjoyment of stargazing and tracking celestial events, he’d purchased a telescope for you where he’d spent the night listening to you explain away the galaxy. And like as of now, when you learned of your boyfriend’s alien sex fantasies while watching the new Alien movie.

You’d noticed the way he shifted in his seat during the movie, adjusting himself in his jeans. You playfully questioned him and he was a mess of stutters and stammers.

“It’s fucked, I know,” He says, avoiding your eyes and twisting a lone ring around his thick finger. “Bet you think I’m a real fucking freak.”

“I mean, I do think you’re a freak,” You say, bringing his face back up to yours. “But that’s exactly what I like. So…if you could have alien sex…how exactly does that work?”

“W-well, there are like some sex toys to make it happen.”

“And the whole egg implanting thing? Is that like when you creampie?” You ask excitedly.

His cheeks grow redder, coughing in embarrassment. “No—So like there are these gelatin egg kits that you can purchase at a sex shop. And they’d get deposited inside through sex and would eventually melt inside you—o-or any person for that matter not just you, of course. I’ll just use us as an example for clarification. But it’s only a fake scenario. Totally not real. For shit and giggles. Hypothe—

“I get it, babe,” You impatiently interrupt. “Get on with it.”

“Right,” He swallows. “So, imagine me wearing this cock sleeve thing that’ll look pretty gnarly because it’ll look kind of like a blue tentacle with all these ridges and bumps—

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oddly specific.”

“Y-Yeah but it’s only to help with the visuals. Not because I have one. Psssh, what?” He says with a anxious high-pitched tone, eyes shifting side to side.

“Mhm,” You say, moving from your spot on the couch to sit in his lap. “Anyway, so back to you naked and wearing that little toy. Will the gelatin eggs be in it already?”

“They would. Then, I’d have to lube up the toy so you can take it. I’d get real nice and slick to the point where it’s dripping like slime just so we’re on the safe side.” He says, letting his hands glide up your thigh, lifting your skirt a little higher.

“Ooo, it’s that big?” You gasp, rocking back and forth against his growing erection. Every now and then, the tip would slip either between your clothed wet core or your soft thighs.

“Uh-huh,” His face in your neck, planting light kisses. “Or maybe you’re just that tight.” He emphasizes the last word while gripping and kneading the inner fat of your thighs.

“Then, what happens?” You mewl.

“Then, I’d stick it deep, deep, deep inside you.” He groans into your ear.

“Would you still be able to feel my warm walls around you? Feel clenching around you so you’d stay inside me?”

“That toy is specifically meant to give you pleasure,” He breathes hotly. “No, I won’t get to feel your tight, wet pussy directly around me. But I’d get pleasure enough seeing your face when I plant my seeds in you. You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, babygirl?”

“Yes, fuck, why do I want that so badly?” You take his hand to place over one breast. Through the thin fabric of your shirt and bra, he quickly locates your pebbled nipple and plucks at it repeatedly.

“Because I just taught you how great monster sex can be.” His teeth sinks into your earlobe.

“You mean there’s more than just alien sex?”

“Mhm, I can show you.” He says, loving that he’s corrupting a girl like yourself.

“Yes, please, master. Show me more.”

[fanbasetwo]

✦ WHEN YOU MATCH RIIZE’S FREAK — PT.01

001. PAIRING , riize ! maknae line × afab reader 002. GENRE , scenario, drabble work . . . NOTE FROM SENA , just a filler work since I don't want to stay inactive :( will post the hyung line version someday lol 🤎 MASTERLIST!!

HONG SEUNGHAN . . . ✦

The cashier’s question hung in the air, dripping with innocence. “Is this for your baby?”

You glanced at your boyfriend, Seunghan, whose lips were twitching as he fought back a laugh. The overflowing basket in front of you didn’t help—chocolate bars, plush toys, and Lego sets practically screamed wholesome parent vibes. Seunghan gave an exaggerated nod, his expression far too serious for the situation. “Of course,” he said, his voice betraying the slightest quiver of amusement. Your jaw dropped. “You’re not helping!” you hissed, but he only grinned, entirely unbothered.

The truth? There was no baby. The weekend haul wasn’t for any hypothetical child but for two grown adults—specifically, you and Seunghan—who spent lazy afternoons building Lego houses and hoarding plush toys like the overgrown kids you secretly were.

At home, the living room looked like a toddler’s dreamland. Lego pieces were scattered across the carpet in chaotic piles. Seunghan was sprawled on his stomach, his brows furrowed in intense concentration as he assembled a construction truck. You sat cross-legged nearby, your fingers carefully snapping together brightly colored bricks. “Look at this!” you exclaimed, holding up a newly completed Lego house. Its tiny windows and mismatched roof were pure perfection—or so you thought. Clapping in excitement, you beamed. “This one’s gold!”

Seunghan rolled his eyes, shooting you a half-hearted glance before returning to his truck. “Gold? More like beginner level,” he teased, smirking as he expertly clicked two more pieces into place. “Rude,” you pouted, nudging him with your foot. “If someone saw us like this, they’d probably think we’re insane. Adults playing with kids’ toys?” He didn’t even look up, his focus unshaken. “Let them think whatever they want,” he replied smoothly. Then he added, without missing a beat, “But we’re together, right? That’s what matters. Who cares if we’re a little weird?”

You paused, his words sinking in. A warm smile spread across your face as you set down the Lego house. He was right—being “freaky” or unconventional didn’t matter when it was with him.

LEE SOHEE . . . ✦

Living together had turned into a whirlwind of unpacking, decorating, and adjusting for you and Sohee. Between all the chaos, there was one thing you’d managed to avoid—shaving. It wasn’t intentional at first, but the moment razor bumps made their unwelcome appearance the last time you tried, you vowed to steer clear. The solution? Long pants and full-sleeved pajamas, even in the heat of summer.

It worked—until it didn’t.

One evening, as you lounged at home, Sohee’s sharp eyes finally caught on. His gaze lingered on your covered legs, his expression unreadable. “You’ve been avoiding something,” he stated matter-of-factly. Caught off guard, you hesitated. “What do you mean?” he didn’t answer right away, just leaned forward and tugged lightly at the hem of your pants. “Why are you hiding your legs?”

Flustered, you looked away, mumbling, “I messed up last time I shaved, okay? Razor bumps are no joke.”

His brows raised slightly, and then—to your surprise—he chuckled. Not the mocking kind of laugh, but one filled with warmth. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Before you could respond, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with your razor, a small towel, and shaving cream. “Sit,” he instructed, pointing to the couch. “What? Why?” “I’m doing it for you,” he said simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Reluctantly, you pulled on a pair of shorts and sat down, watching him with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. He knelt in front of you, focused as he lathered the cream onto your leg.

“You have to shave in the direction of hair growth,” he explained, his tone almost professional as he carefully ran the razor along your skin. “That way, you avoid razor bumps.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You sound like a tutorial video.” He smirked without looking up. “And you’re a terrible student if you didn’t know this already.”

His touch was gentle but precise, his attention entirely on the task. The awkwardness you feared never came. Instead, there was comfort—a kind of intimacy you hadn’t expected. When he finished, he leaned back, inspecting his work. “There. Smooth as silk. Now you can stop hiding from me.” you blinked down at your leg, then back at him. “You’re not even a little grossed out?”

He scoffed, standing up. “Why would I be? You’re mine, freaky shaving habits and all.”

You grinned, your chest warm. If this wasn’t love, you didn’t know what was.

LEE ANTON . . . ✦

The room was quiet except for the faint sound of a movie playing on your phone screen. You pointed at the screen, where two actors were locked in a dramatic kiss, a cube of chocolate passed between their mouths. “Hmm, you think that’s dirty?” you asked, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you glanced at him. He didn’t answer right away, his eyes lingering on the screen before shifting to meet yours. “Don’t know unless I try,” he said. His voice wasn’t teasing, though—it held a certain seriousness that sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could retort, he grabbed a cube of chocolate from the table and slipped it into his mouth. You blinked, taken aback, but before you could fully process his intentions, he leaned in. His lips met yours, soft and warm, tasting faintly of the rich chocolate he was intent on sharing. The sweetness melted further between your mouths as his tongue pushed the piece into yours, teasing and deliberate. The sensation of the chocolate melting, mixing with the heat of the kiss, was intoxicating. Your hands instinctively flew to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as the moment deepened, every sense heightened.

The chocolate dissolved into a mix of flavors and warmth, making the kiss feel lighter yet more overwhelming. The world outside disappeared as you leaned further into him, his firm grip on your waist grounding you in the dizzying moment.

When the kiss finally broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other’s. Anton’s lips were smeared with chocolate, as were yours, but neither of you made a move to clean it. Instead, he leaned back slightly, a crooked, chocolatey grin spreading across his face. “It’s not dirty,” he declared with the utmost confidence, his voice low and steady, as if his conclusion were a scientific fact.

You stared at him, half-stunned and half-impressed, your lips tingling from the kiss. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, a laugh bubbling up from your chest. He grabbed the remote and paused the video, turning to you with a playful glint in his eye. “Unbelievably good, you mean.” That was the moment you realized something undeniable: your boyfriend didn’t just match your freak—he might actually surpass it.

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[tsuutarr]

OMG THAT GOD OC YOU DID TODAY?

i love him sm

(Jealousy headcanon whennnn???-)

(aw im so happy you like him! also, ty for the request, I love jealousy hehe)

Some general jealousy headcanons:

This god is an extremely jealous god, so he'll get rid of anyone who dares approach you. His sense of morals are very skewed, especially since he deems himself superior to humans, so he doesn't see anything wrong with killing the people around you. Why should a killing a few flies matter?

He's also a control freak. He needs to know what you're doing at all times. He has control over water, so he can basically see what you're doing at all times via rain and other bodies of water (though those bodies of water have to be somewhat sizeable).

Extremely clingy! He likes carrying you around -- it makes him feel happy to have you near him. He'll also basically do everything for you. Hungry? He'll feed you himself, bringing the food to your mouth. Want some fresh air? He'll carry you everywhere you want to go, but there's no way you're walking on your own two feet. Bored? He'll do anything to cure your boredom, but every activity has to be done with him. He hates the idea of him potentially missing out on hanging out with you!

He HATES secrets being kept from him. He'd never hurt you (since he loves you too much), but if you make him too mad, he'll lock you up in a cute little cage for a bit. Just until you learn your lesson.

Anyway, once you're in his grasp, good luck trying to escape. You're probably not going to be able to, not with how strong + possessive + obsessive he is. Also, it's better to stay with him, anyway -- he might kill too many people in a fit of jealousy.

Story specific jealousy (aka the small scenario in his pov. Kind of??):

Ever since you've reawakened the forgotten god by cleaning his shrine and making a small offering, the god couldn't help but be obsessed with you.

His powers allow him to see things through water, so he made constant downpour occur in your area, just so he can see what you're doing.

But -- why are there so many people around you? Why are you laughing at them? Why are they allowed to touch you when he can't? It makes him feel like ripping things apart.

So, he does: he gets rid of any person that gets too close to you -- any person that talks to you.

As the days go on, he's half-tempted to flood your area to drag you to him. He's getting tired of those peasants hanging around you when you're too far for him to touch. He's so, so envious of those that can be close to you.

Luckily for him... you end up falling in the nearby river, before he even has to do anything. Being able to finally touch you makes his heart soar <3

[cynthiav06]

Percy's amnesia in SoN gave him the perfect excuse to build his confidence to where it should be and break up with Annabeth, with very few consequences, and I will always stand by that. Annabeth may be easier for the Greeks to back due to her history there, but she has nothing at Camp Jupiter, where he quickly and firmly established himself as a powerful, capable and trustworthy entity, getting promoted to Praetor within a week. I honestly believe that, after his SON quest and the "greeting" Annabeth gave him on their reunion, Percy should've broken up with Annabeth, stayed with Camp Jupiter and thrived there.

Not only would the structure help him long-term in the way it canonically did in the (maybe) three days we saw him spend there, but he has a proper support system without biases in favour of Annabeth. It would also provide a fun narrative contrast to Jason, which RR was trying to push in-story, where they thrive in the other's camp despite the shadow of a figure they kind of feel they have to live up to. Jason does better in the looser structure of CHB due to his having picked up many wolf-ish traits from Lupa, while Percy almost *relaxes* in the strict routine of CJ because it helps with his ADHD symptoms.

And this confidence he very clearly has in SoN, and the way he almost romanticized the possible relationship between him and Annabeth when he didn't have his memories, would lead to a very jarring experience when his memories are settled and he reunites with Annabeth. Because, woah, that was not just a subconscious bias from preferring his new friendships/camp structure, but she actually is like that.

Boom, he now has recontextualised memories and perspective of Annabeth, and a place where she doesn't have a stronger reputation than him, and he can fairly safely break up with Annabeth and escape attempts at retaliation.

He might wait until after the quest the Seven go on, so that he can immediately cut her out of his lfe, but this new perspective changes how he approaches her.

The canon would never, but fortunately for us, there are fic writers. If I get enough time somewhere in this month or next, I might end up writing this, but I will have to see, no promises.

Back to your point; you have covered mostly everything so I don't see what I should be adding to this exact scenario but yes it is one of the few perfect pit stops for a percabeth break up to happen. I am going to go down a slightly different avenue for this one as my thoughts vary a bit from yours, so bear with me. It is going to be long, but I need to recap and clarify a few things for others; I will get to your specific questions near the end. [Everything's numbered, so if you are in a hurry, just scroll to the final four points]

-------------------------------------------------------

The breakup could have been mutual, too, if Rick had written it well. If we follow the proper timeline, Annabeth was still hung up over Luke up until the end of BoTL and had just started to get over him at the start of Last Olympian. Percy had just been informed of the Prophecy and under massive stress between end of BoTL and start of TLO and was obviously arguing with Annabeth over it as she repeatedly got angry at him for reasonably freaking out over his then "assumed death" prophecy. To find some relief from all this, he was dating Rachel, who he really liked, had a kiss with, and overall a good relationship with.

Then the whole plot of the Last Olympian occurs in what can be considered to be a few months at best. Then both Percy and Annabeth get together but to recap the events leading up to this:

Rachel breaks up with Percy despite their good relationship due to understanding the role she needs to play in saving the Oracle.

Luke who had previously visited Annabeth to make her join him and who Annabeth was somewhat hung over still, dies.

The war ended up killing a lot of close friends and companions and was a generally traumatic event for everyone involved.

Percy is very high on mixed emotions, reeling from everything that's happened when he gets together with Annabeth, so neither of them have had any time to process anything that's happened properly enough.

They have their one month anniversary on September 18th[The Staff of Hermes short story], and Percy disappears in October. [Riordan.wiki has years and dates of important events].

So they have barely been together for two months, and Percy's already missing.

This is Annabeth's thought process when they do reunite. It implies she has been doing a bit of thinking about their relationship and might not be as sure about it anymore.

She also seems to heavily dislike Percy's initial idea of settling in New Rome and seems to have no intention of taking a break from quests like Percy does.

She also seems to dismiss Percy's unwillingness to go to NRU after the news of Estelle's birth and the events of CotG.

Those were a few key points of contrast between them both on their future plans. Not small ones either.

Now, back to their reunion and the events following; here are a few things:

She judo flips him in front of the Argo II and almost entirety of Camp Jupiter.

If Annabeth didn't know that Percy had lost the Curse of Achilles then she was judo flipping him on the small of his back where his mortal tether was located ; which she knew about and therefore would have killed him in her anger and hyper emotional state.

If Annabeth did know that he had lost the Curse of Achilles then she was still judo flipping her boyfriend who had been missing for six months after surviving an already very traumatic event where he barely managed to survive and was then put through kidnapping, six months of amnesia, and brainwashing against his will by a goddess and then thrust into an unknown land with enemies on his trail.

Further, she blames Percy for disappearing for all of the things HE suffered through against his will and HAS THE AUDACITY TO MAKE HIM APOLOGIZE FOR IT.

Annabeth says and I quote that she likes keeping Percy on his toes.

She also agrees with Piper that Percy needs to be leashed and controlled.

Then Percy's side gives us a few more concerning tidbits:

Percy repeatedly notes that he is scared of Annabeth or thinks she might hit him

He also says that she often brings up Rachel to make him uncomfortable.

Percy also doesn't feel comfortable confiding in Annabeth about Gabe or past trauma.

He repeatedly feels he isn't good enough for Annabeth, and obviously Annabeth's behavior consciously or subconsciously on her part enables his thought process.

He ends up almost killing himself because Annabeth makes him promise not to use his specific ability despite it being used in self-defense by Percy, which ended up saving them both because she was afraid of Percy's powers.

Yet another thing to point out is that Annabeth's fatal flaw hubris and her abandonment issues feed too much into her behavior, and until that is fixed, nothing can be helped.

Annabeth punched Percy in ttc just because he didn't ask her to dance like she wanted him to. She also gave Percy a very hard time just because he knew another girl (Rachel) and immediately acted controlling and toxically possesive towards Percy over Rachel and Calypso despite her and Percy not being in a relationship at any of those points. In fact, despite her supposed crush on Percy, she defended Luke all the way till Botl, despite his repeated attempts at murdering Percy, and even went as far as to say Percy was unreasonably angry at Luke. She also displayed rude and downright awful behavior when interacting with Rachel; and Rachel, being the better person, handled her with class and grace. This all is not even including her demeaning remarks against Percy's intelligence and condescending behavior.

We can conclude from all this that Percy and Annabeth are not compatible, with different future goals and clashing perspectives and most importantly due to lack of proper communication, terrible misunderstandings, and Annabeth's consistent toxic behavior.

But neither the characters nor the author and not even most of the fandom acknowledge any of these glaring issues, so nothing can be done, but their break up can go several ways:

1.

Percy and Annabeth both break up amicably with Annabeth apologizing and understanding the gravity of her behavior and her mistakes and consistently making up to Percy for all the things she has been doing terribly. This is only possible for pre Tartarus or pre MoA situation.

Annabeth could have had a good arc in overcoming all of her problems while Percy too dealt with his self esteem issues and past trauma and they could have given their relationship a shot again in the future; they are both too young right now.

2.

Percy confronts Annabeth on her behavior and breaks up with her. Things get ugly, and it ends up being horrible for both of them. This is a traumatic situation on both ends, but the reason why this is unlikely is that Annabeth and Percy have a case of trauma bonding, and there's hints of codependency more on Annabeth's end. Which makes Percy mask Annabeth's toxic traits easily and for Annabeth to ignore Percy's devolving mental health and self-esteem issues that she has been enabling unknowingly.

3.

The other likely option is third-party intervention. Sally or Poseidon/Athena or other campers.

I also disagree that the camp half blood would back Annabeth. Percy's their [CHB] unofficial leader and a good friend to all of them plus he is the reason the children of other non-Olympian gods have cabins and get claimed early so he definitely has a higher status than Annabeth does in both camps. Camp Jupiter also does respect Percy more than any other Greek, and he is the only Greek to ever be made Praetor. So in social or reputation terms, Percy's winning.

But I don't think other campers would dare meddle in Percy and Annabeth's business. Maybe the seven would. [Leo and Frank would never. Jason probably doesn't understand the whole situation. Piper’s misguided and would probably feed into Annabeth's behavior, so either Hazel or Reyna? Hazel would definitely help Percy understand, and Percy would totally hear Hazel out. Thalia, hmm, I don't really know what Thalia would do, but I don't think she would blindly back Annabeth. She does seem to care for and respect Percy just as much. Nico isn't touching it with a 20-foot pole, plus I don't think he is over his Percy crush at all, so he's not an unbiased party either. ]

4.

Last option and what probably is the most likely is that things continue as they are and Percy eventually snaps due to endless pressure and his mental health issues and Annabeth can't deal with it and then all their other issues which they have both ignored come spilling out and then it's just a clean break but it's going to be the most excruciating way out and given their luck definitely happening.

[devilish-cherry]

ᨳ♡₊➳ jujutsu kaisen x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack with plot

"You hate your job. The pay is bad, your manager is worse, and customers are somehow both entitled and clueless. Just as you finish contemplating whether unpaid breaks are a human rights violation, weird new people keep showing up to the café. They all seem to know each other. Sometimes they talk in cryptic phrases. What the hell is this domain and why do they want to expand it? One time, a man with stitches on his forehead walked in, made prolonged eye contact with you, and then left without ordering anything. You’re pretty sure he was a serial killer. Another time, the one with white hair and sunglasses indoors mentioned a "higher mission", and you’re 90% sure this is how cult documentaries start. One of your regulars only speaks in weird food-related phrases. You assume he has some kind of medical condition, but no one explains anything to you. But you are not about to ask questions, because ignorance is bliss and also job security. And unfortunately, they are all weird and they seem very interested in coming back."

꒰ masterlist ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ chapter 6 ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ chapter 8 ꒱

ᨳ♡₊➳ or read on archive of our own!

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: hey hey! i wrote a little minimum wage, maximum suffering side story for a nanami x reader request! obviously, it’s not canon to this main fic—just a fun little “what if” scenario where the barista and nanami get to be two overworked exhausted souls, bake together, and accidentally start catching feelings. if that sounds like your vibe, feel free to check it out! also, just a reminder that i’m taking requests, so if there’s something specific you wanna see in this universe or any jjk x reader content in general, send it my way! thank you all so much for the love and kind feedback—reading your reactions truly makes my day. hope you’re enjoying the chaos!! 🫶

You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing aggressively against your nightstand. You consider letting it vibrate itself into the abyss, but then you see the name on the screen.

Greg the Manager.

Of course, it’s Greg.

You contemplate ignoring it. After all, you've gotten pretty good at ghosting calls from him. But then you remember the last time you did that, and Greg left you a voicemail that said, "Hey dude, I know you don’t like getting called, but I need help because the espresso machine is like… emitting a black fog? But no worries, bro, I handled it—put a towel over it."

The towel, you later discovered, had caught fire.

So, for the sake of fire safety and whatever remains of your sanity, you begrudgingly pick up.

"Yo," Greg the Manager answers, sounding unreasonably chill.

"What’s wrong," you say, already bracing yourself.

"Uh. Don’t freak out, but the espresso machine made a sound that was, like… unholy."

You close your eyes. Rub your face. Consider throwing your phone out the window. "Greg. It always does that."

"Like, bro, I’m telling you, it sounded sentient this time."

"It’s just a machine, Greg," you reply, a deep sigh escaping you.

"I don’t know, man. It said something."

You sit up now, the exhaustion of life creeping up on you. "It spoke?"

"Not, like, English," Greg clarifies, sounding very much like he’s trying to convince himself. "But it made a noise that felt like it had intent."

Before you can even come up with something appropriately sarcastic, Greg makes a noise of panic. "Oh god. It’s smoking. Again."

You hang up.

By the time you drag yourself to work, the café smells like burnt espresso, disappointment, and what you can only assume is the palpable scent of existential dread. Greg the Manager is standing frozen in front of the espresso machine, which looks like it’s on the verge of giving up on life—or maybe plotting to drag him into some alternate dimension. You can’t decide. Either way, it’s rattling violently, as if trying to break free from the shackles of this mortal plane.

"Hey," Greg greets you, looking vaguely guilty.

You stare at him, then at the machine, which lets out a low, menacing hum. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" he says, a little too defensively.

You narrow your eyes.

"Okay, so I may have, like, smacked it real hard because it wasn’t working."

"You WHAT?!" You take a step back, half-expecting the espresso machine to come alive and launch itself at you like some caffeinated version of The Terminator.

"I—"

Before he can finish his sentence, the espresso machine lets out a noise that can only be described as otherworldly. It’s a screech that would make an animal in pain sound pleasant by comparison. The lights flicker. A single ominous spark shoots out of its side.

You take another step back, because honestly, at this point, there’s nothing left to do but stare at the impending doom of your workplace with all the grace and patience of a minimum-wage worker who’s clocking in for a shift that’s definitely going to suck.

“Cool,” you say flatly. “So we’re all gonna die today.”

When you hear no response, you turn. Of course, Greg—ever useless—has disappeared. Just gone. Like a damn mirage. You glance around the café, mentally preparing for the usual gauntlet of weirdness.

Muffin Guy is in his usual spot, staring at his muffin like it holds the secrets of the universe, and a woman is peering at the menu like it’s written in hieroglyphics. The vibes are bad. Just another typical day at the café.

And then—because life loves making things worse—the door chimes. You look up to see Choso and Yuji walking in. Well, Yuji walks in like a normal person. Choso, however, enters like he’s surveying enemy territory. He, as usual, zeros in on you like a heat-seeking missile.

"Barista," Choso greets you solemnly, as if he’s about to deliver some deeply important news.

"Choso," you reply, because this is just how your conversations go now.

"I have returned."

"You sure have, bud."

“You look exhausted.” Choso observes, his brows furrowing like he’s genuinely concerned.

You, running on caffeine and spite, give him a tired look. “That’s just my face.”

Choso doesn’t get sarcasm. Not even a little. His frown deepens. "I will give you nourishment."

Yuji, sensing an impending crisis, groans loudly. "Choso, please. We talked about this."

You already know what’s coming. You brace yourself. “Let me guess. You brought an entire feast again?”

Choso, ever serious, reaches into his pocket. You hold your breath.

And then, finally, he pulls out a single, modest red apple and places it on the counter like he’s offering you the Holy Grail.

Yuji’s jaw drops. “Character development?! He only brought one thing?”

Choso nods solemnly, like he just made a sacrifice. “I am learning restraint.”

You stare at the apple. “Where did you even get this?”

Choso pauses. Looks at Yuji. Looks at the apple. Looks away.

Yuji’s expression shifts to pure betrayal. “Did you—DID YOU STEAL THIS FROM THE FRUIT STAND WE WALKED BY EARLIER?”

Choso looks totally unbothered. “The barista needs nourishment.”

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN JUST COMMIT CRIMES—”

Before Yuji can launch into a full-on rant about the ethics of fruit theft, the door chimes again, and in walks a new customer.

This guy?

He radiates vibes.

The kind of vibes that scream, "I’m either a cult leader or a very rich businessman who just walked out of a TED Talk on ‘The Secrets of Power.’"

Tall, sharp features, long black hair partially tied up in a man bun with loose strands framing his face. He’s wearing traditional robes that look like they cost more than your monthly rent. His movements are slow and deliberate with the kind of controlled grace that screams villain.

As he steps inside, he sniffs—like a Victorian aristocrat who just walked into a peasant’s barn. Then, with a look of absolute disdain, he pulls out a small spray bottle, mutters "disgusting," and mists himself like a beauty influencer on a self-care day.

You blink. Slowly.

Did this man just Febreze himself?

He catches your stare. Of course he does. And you instantly know: This man is judging you. Hard. You can feel it deep in your soul.

Choso immediately tenses. Yuji just looks confused.

“...Do I know you? You look sorta familiar,” Yuji asks, like he’s trying to place the guy who just sprayed himself down with Eau de I Think I’m Better Than You.

The man ignores both of them and strides up to the counter.

Then, he smiles.

It is fake as all hell. You would know, you give fake smiles on the daily.

"Hello," he says, voice smooth and deeply insincere.

Your customer service instincts activate against your will. “Hi. Welcome to—"

"You work here?" he interrupts, in the same tone someone might use to ask, "You live in filth?"

“…No. I just wear the apron and make lattes for fun.”

His lip curls slightly, as if your existence alone offends him. "I see. Sharp-tongued for a monkey."

There’s a pause.

You stare at the man.

Yuji sputters, clutching his hoodie like it might protect him from the sheer audacity unfolding before him.

Choso glares, his resting murder-face intensifying.

The man—who is now on your personal Most Hated Customers List, right beneath that one guy who asked if oat milk had dairy in it—lets out a long, exasperated sigh, as if he’s the one enduring the most in this situation.

"It’s just an observation," he says smoothly, like that somehow makes it better.

You deadpan. "Observation of what? My ability to use tools? My advanced problem-solving skills?"

"Charming," he muses, as if you’re some kind of exotic street performer. "No wonder Satoru enjoys this place."

Your eye twitches. Oh god. Of course.

"You know Gojo?"

The man’s expression flickers—just for a second. His eyes darken slightly before he schools his face back into the usual smooth, infuriating calm.

"In a way," he says cryptically, which is not an answer, but whatever.

Yuji cautiously clears his throat. "Uh. So. What’s your name?"

The man smiles, slow and deliberate. "Suguru Geto."

Choso, who has not stopped glaring since this conversation began, somehow glares harder. Geto notices and, rather than feeling threatened like a normal person, looks vaguely pleased.

"Can’t a man enjoy a cup of tea?" Geto asks, all silk and smugness. Then, he turns back to you, fixing you with an expression so judgmental it makes your soul itch. "This is an establishment that serves tea, isn’t it?"

You squint at him. "You seem like the type to order something obscure, like… oolong infused with the souls of the damned."

His lips twitch, like he wants to smirk but refuses to let you amuse him. "Just green tea will suffice."

"Sure," you nod half-heartedly. "Coming right up."

As you prepare the drink, you vaguely register that Yuji looks like he’s trying to astral project himself out of this situation, while Choso—without a word—has positioned himself just slightly in front of you, like a silent, glaring guard dog.

Then, as if the universe has decided that this moment isn’t chaotic enough, the café door SLAMS open.

And in saunters Gojo.

Like he owns the place. Like he’s walking onto the stage of his own Broadway debut.

"HELLO, MY FAVORITE MINIMUM WAGE WORKER!" Gojo announces loudly. "HAVE YOU SEEN A—"

Then, he sees him.

Gojo’s entire body freezes.

Geto, for his part, remains utterly calm. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t shift. The only movement comes from his fingers, lightly tapping against his tea cup you had just placed in front of him like this is some casual interaction and not charged with enough tension to power the national grid.

"Satoru," Geto greets smoothly, tilting his head.

Gojo blinks once. Twice. Then he grins—but it’s different. It’s not his usual annoying, gremlin-esque grin. It’s sharper. Tighter. Colder.

"Suguru," he replies, voice light, but not playful.

You, oblivious to all actual context, just sigh.

"Cool," you say, absolutely exhausted. "What is this? A long-lost soap opera reunion?"

Geto lets out a low chuckle. "Something like that," he hums, setting his tea down with elegant precision. "We're… old friends."

You know drama when you hear it.

“Old friends,” you repeat, skeptical. "Like actual old friends, or ‘we broke up and now we’re enemies who pretend not to care but totally do’?"

Gojo, without missing a beat, grins. “Oh, it’s the second one.”

Geto’s eye twitches.

You nod slowly. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

There’s a pause. The kind of silence thick with unspoken words and deep-seated resentment. The kind of silence that happens right before someone dramatically walks out of a family Thanksgiving dinner.

Naturally, Gojo—because he can’t handle silence like a normal person—fills it.

“Man, this really takes me back,” he says wistfully, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Us, standing together in a café, like old times—”

“We never did this,” Geto interrupts with an unimpressed expression.

“—Me, looking as handsome as ever,” Gojo continues, undeterred. “You, glaring at me because you can’t admit you miss me.”

Geto lets out the deepest, most suffering sigh you have ever heard. “I don’t.”

“Lies.”

You press a hand against your forehead. "I don’t get paid enough for this."

Unfortunately, Geto has now turned his hyper-critical stare back on you, and it is very much unwelcome.

"How pathetic," Geto murmurs, studying you like you’re some kind of pitiful lab rat trapped in the maze of capitalism. "To be stuck in such a miserable life."

You're too exhausted for whatever pretentious nonsense he’s about to drop. "I know you’re about to say some weird philosophical nonsense, and I do not have the mental capacity for it today."

Gojo snorts.

Geto tilts his head, smiling in that way that makes you feel like he thinks he’s playing some kind of intellectual chess match. You are, unfortunately, not interested in playing.

Choso, usually the embodiment of silent, looming presence, apparently hit his limit. Without hesitation, he stepped directly in front of you like he was personally responsible for your well-being, his posture stiff and protective, his face a masterpiece of disapproval. His expression was one part overprotective, three parts ready to physically launch a man through the nearest window.

"Do not insult the barista."

His voice was so serious, so weighted with dramatic intensity, that for a moment, the café itself seemed to still. Geto raised an eyebrow, vaguely intrigued. Yuji looked like he was about to pass out from the amount of secondhand embarrassment. Gojo’s grin stretched wider, already living for the drama.

You sighed, deeply accustomed to the daily horrors of customer service. "Choso, I literally get insulted daily. It’s fine."

"It is not fine," Choso insisted, his voice filled with righteous indignation. "You are valued."

There was a pause.

A long one.

You blink a few times.

Yuji made a noise. A high-pitched, inhuman noise that sounded like a balloon deflating in sheer disbelief.

Gojo clutched his chest, looking like he’d just witnessed the most beautiful love confession of the century.

Geto? Silent. Watching with rapt fascination, like a scientist observing a new species exhibit an unexpected behavior.

Meanwhile, you stared at Choso like he had just dramatically confessed his eternal devotion to a bag of expired croissants.

"I… okay," you said finally, unsure how to respond to this level of sincerity at nine in the morning. "…Thanks?"

Choso nodded, as solemn as ever. "You deserve respect."

Yuji, still desperately trying to process what was happening, let out a tiny, suffering groan, like his soul was actively exiting his body. "Choso, please. You can’t just—just declare things like that—"

"But it’s true, brother." Choso replied simply, as if that justified everything. "The barista is important."

Gojo, absolutely thriving on the chaos, turned to Geto with a shit-eating grin. "See, Suguru? That’s how you show appreciation. Unlike someone I know."

Geto ignored him, his eyes flickering between you and Choso with a quiet, analytical interest. He looked like he was filing this entire interaction away for later use, tucking it into some folder labeled: Barista-Choso Phenomenon. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

"My, my," he mused, tilting his head. "How unexpectedly devoted."

Choso, ever the man of direct responses, stared him down. "I would kill you."

Yuji visibly malfunctioned. "CHO."

"Oh, this is interesting," Geto murmured, his eyes twinkling like he was delighted by this development. "Satoru, did you know your little friend here had such a strong sense of loyalty?"

Gojo, grinning like he just won the chaos lottery, threw an arm around Choso’s shoulders. "Oh, yeah. Big bro instincts. Real serious about them."

Choso immediately shrugged Gojo off like he was nothing more than an unwanted speck of dust.

Gojo dramatically clutched his chest, stumbling back. "Oof. Rejected. That one hurt."

You exhaled sharply, ready to throw all of them out. "Can we please get back to the part where I have a job and you are all customers and not—whatever the hell this is?"

Gojo clapped his hands together, bright as ever. "Okay! So! What’s my favorite barista been up to?"

You considered lying. Unfortunately, your reality was too bleak to sugarcoat.

"Oh, you know," you said, voice flat as a pancake. "The usual. Greg is definitely useless. A man tried to pay for his coffee with wisdom, which, fun fact, does not pay my rent."

Gojo gasped dramatically. "Shocking. Wisdom is worthless?"

"Yes," you deadpanned. "Turns out, landlords prefer actual money. Who knew?"

Gojo nodded, stroking his chin like an old wise sage reflecting on the tragedy of the modern world. "Late-stage capitalism. Terrible stuff."

"You don’t know the half of it," you muttered.

And then—because your suffering was never-ending—Greg the Manager wandered in from the back, looking just as dazed and blissfully unaware as ever.

"Yo," he greeted.

Geto’s nose wrinkled in visible disgust. His gaze flicked to you, then back to Greg, and for a moment, he seemed genuinely baffled that such a person existed.

“…Who is this?” Geto asked, his voice laced with pure judgment.

Greg, oblivious to the chaos around him and completely missing Geto's stare of disdain, stretched lazily. "The espresso machine started making weird noises again. It was, like, growling or something, so I put a sign on it."

Your eyes narrowed. "What kind of sign?"

Greg shrugged again. "You know. ‘Out of Order.’ But also, ‘Do Not Anger It.’ Just in case."

Geto slowly turned his head to you, processing this information. His expression was unreadable.

"…Your machine growls?" he asked, a little too intrigued.

You exhaled sharply. "It makes noises. But it’s not haunted."

Geto looked from the espresso machine, back to you, back to the espresso machine, like he was staring at a very stupid child.

"…You poor, oblivious fool."

Before you could fire back with peak sarcasm, the espresso machine let out an unholy screech that could only be described as a hundred lost souls wailing in agony.

The lights flickered violently.

Muffin Guy finally blinked.

Geto’s fingers stilled around his cup. His gaze flickered toward the espresso machine with genuine curiosity.

"Tell me," he said, tilting his head. "Do you ever feel like something is… watching you in this place?"

"Dude, I work in customer service. I feel eyes on me all the time."

Geto chuckled, seemingly amused by your suffering. "No, not customers. Something… else."

"Oh my god," you scoffed. "Are you also about to tell me the espresso machine is cursed?"

The espresso machine, as if personally offended, let out another deep, guttural groan. The lights dimmed.

You refused to react. This was just your life now.

Geto raised a single brow. "You don’t find that strange?"

You sighed and crossed your atms. "It just does that sometimes."

"Fascinating." Geto mused, though you had the sense that he was being condescending. He then turned to Gojo, still lounging near the counter. "Satoru, I have to ask. Why haven’t you exorcised that thing yet?"

Gojo grinned. "Hey, it’s part of our beloved minimum wage worker’s daily experience! It would be cruel to take away such an iconic workplace feature."

"Why does everyone keep making ominous comments about my espresso machine?!" you demanded. "It’s just a little broken!"

Greg the Manager nodded sagely and put his two cents in even though nobody asked. "Yeah. Just a little."

The espresso machine rattled violently.

Greg backpedaled. "Actually, maybe more than a little."

You caught Choso still glaring at Geto like he was actively plotting his downfall. Yuji, meanwhile, looked like he was actively trying to escape this awkward situation through sheer force of will.

And then—just when you thought it couldn’t get worse—Geto picked up his tea and walked straight to the nearest table.

And sat down.

And got comfortable.

Your stomach dropped.

"…You’re staying?" you asked, dreading the answer.

Geto sipped his tea, looking far too smug. "Oh, yes. I think I’ll linger."

You turned to Gojo, silently begging for intervention.

Gojo just grinned. "Oh, buddy. He’s a linger-er."

Your soul left your body.

Yuji, still tense, whispered to Choso, "Uh. We should probably go."

Choso crossed his arms. "Not until he leaves."

Geto, ever the bastard, smirked.

Yuji groaned, fully done with everything. "Oh my god. This is literally the worst possible dynamic."

It was.

It really, truly was.

And as you watched Geto settle in, taking in the café like he owned the place, you realized something horrifying:

Your life was about to get even worse.

₊⊹. tag list: @alpha-mommy69 @luluminati @amortsukii-writes @inthedarkshadows000 @isomehowexist @not-aya @emochosoluvr @lov3vivian @literallyushiwaka

[anbaisai]

RAISING MY HANDS. These are less romantic hcs but more general hcs that I see them having lmao. (Sobbing I guess these also lean more towards scenarios too ig? 😭)

- The first time they ever slept together, Mayu accidentally kicked Jamil off the bed.

- I always joke about Mayu wearing the pants in the relationship, but I can see her being the type to spoil Jamil with small gifts. (Literally tiny trinkets that reminds her of Jamil.)

- Mayu teaches Jamil how to use the chopsticks, and with how easy Jamik picks up on it— it ends up being his favorite kitchen utensils. (Multipurpose pair of sticks... I'm telling you he'd be unstoppable with it)

- Jamil has pattern recognition, and specifically whenever he sees the mayusprout(tm) and the general onigiriness of any objects his mind drifts to the prefect, maybe he even vocally expresses it. (Cue Mayu sneezing)

- Mayu isn't picky with food, but she probably becomes particular with the quality of it after tasting Jamil's cooking. (Did Jamil's cooking became the standard of whether a food tastes good? maybe. Does Jamil take this information well? He's smug about it, but face to face with Mayu? he's in his hoodie)

- I like to think that there was a moment when they're more comfortable talking about the OB incident; that Mayu teased Jamil about the faces he made during his... crashout. By teasing I mean she made her best impersonation. Her face is expressive I think she can pull off THAT face.

- Jamil's opinion on the above hc is: "Good grief, Ace is rubbing off on her."

WHAT HELLO TATO YOU COOKED SO HARD- ⁉️💥💥 Hold on hold on give me a second to go through them all omg-

- Jamil has pattern recognition, and specifically whenever he sees the mayusprout(tm) and the general onigiriness of any objects his mind drifts to the prefect, maybe he even vocally expresses it. (Cue Mayu sneezing)

HFKDSDFJ Jamil at the local plant store seeing one (1) succulent plant with 2 leaves and immediately thinking of her 😭 moving this one to the top bc it was my favourite & i could not resist doodling it-

- The first time they ever slept together, Mayu accidentally kicked Jamil off the bed.

HELP DID HE TRY TO GET BACK UP OR JUST ACCEPT HIS FATE ON THE FLOOR 😭😭 imagining him sighing and grabbing an extra blanket to camp out on the floor because he thinks he might be kicked off again-

- I always joke about Mayu wearing the pants in the relationship, but I can see her being the type to spoil Jamil with small gifts. (Literally tiny trinkets that reminds her of Jamil.)

True?! You know her so well this is extremely in-character of her… she’ll just be gifting tiny (and arguably value-less) things, but he’ll nonchalantly accept them and keep them all stored somewhere only he knows…

- Mayu teaches Jamil how to use the chopsticks, and with how easy Jamil picks up on it— it ends up being his favorite kitchen utensils. (Multipurpose pair of sticks... I'm telling you he'd be unstoppable with it)

Chopsticks are genuinely so versatile and useful despite their extremely simple design I strongly agree with you 😤 Side note I’ve seen characters like snipe an insect out of midair with chopsticks - which I am sure Jamil wouldn’t do, but perhaps Mayu sneakily does it to keep him from freaking out when she notices a Malicious Creature buzzing near… (He sees her do it and tells her she MUST throw those chopsticks away now. Burn them, even. They are irreversibly tarnished.)

- Mayu isn't picky with food, but she probably becomes particular with the quality of it after tasting Jamil's cooking. (Did Jamil's cooking became the standard of whether a food tastes good? maybe. Does Jamil take this information well? He's smug about it, but face to face with Mayu? he's in his hoodie)

LOOOSERRRRR we all know how smug you are about this outcome STOP pretending you’re not 🫵🫵🫵 – Mayu eating restaurant food or something and thinking to herself “Hm, this is missing some [insert spice name here]” and it’s all because she’s used to the way Jamil seasons it

- I like to think that there was a moment when they're more comfortable talking about the OB incident; that Mayu teased Jamil about the faces he made during his... crashout. By teasing I mean she made her best impersonation. Her face is expressive I think she can pull off THAT face.

- Jamil's opinion on the above hc is: "Good grief, Ace is rubbing off on her."

LMAOOOO it’s just what you get from being around someone like Ace sorry, his talent with doing impressions of others will naturally influence you (shakes head)

Jamil overthinking it afterward because dear god he is so embarrassed did he actually look like that?! (Blanket cocoon time or something)

[confused-pyramid]

I’d Like to Think That You Would Stick Around | s6

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 15.5k

warnings: SMUT, oral (m!receiving), masturbation, canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, guns, drinking, angst, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 6x06, 6x08, 6x17, and 6x18.

a/n: Sorry for the long wait guys, school has been kicking my ass, but here's the next part! We're getting a lot of angst this chapter, but we're so so close to the good times ;) Hope you enjoy! Title is from Love Song by Lana Del Rey

series masterlist

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You are talking to Prentiss across the bullpen, laughing about something he can't hear, and he's freaking out. He shouldn't have left that night. He knows that. He just didn't know what else to do.

Never mind the fact that he has no idea how much you remember.

When you bumped into him on the way out of the elevator this morning, he swears you jumped back, but then you smiled at him, and he was able to convince himself that it was all fine. So why does it still feel like you are avoiding him?

He can still picture the dark expanse of your pupils as you leaned in closer after stumbling into him; he can still feel the rush of your breath as your gaze met his and his fingers tightened on your hip.

He walks into his office, before sitting at his desk and dropping his head into his hands. His blinds are just shut enough that no one from down in the bullpen can see into his office, and he welcomes the privacy as he rubs a hand over his face and forces his eyes away from the photograph of the two of you on his desk.

'Aaron...'

Your voice had sounded so soft, so hurt-

He shuts his eyes again and tries to think about anything else (maybe even the paperwork he's supposed to have been doing for an hour now) but every time he blinks, he sees your face again.

He has suspected the shift in your feelings for a little while now, but that night at the bar confirmed something he isn't sure he's ready to handle. He feels it too - of course he does - but he can't think about it. He can't.

He's floundering with Jack, with trying to be there for both him and the team, and he just lost Haley. God, he just lost Haley, and the idea of losing you too because he fucks it up just like he did with her is unimaginable. They were together for decades - they had a child together - and still he couldn't give her what she needed. Your friendship means everything to him, and if he does something to ruin your relationship too, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He glances out his window and sees you still talking to Emily, both of your heads now bent down to look at an open case file. She says something to you, and your face lights up as you grin at her. Something that feels like lava pools in his gut and he swallows thickly as he turns back to his paperwork.

***

You head back to your desk and drop the case file down as you resist the urge to glance up at his office window. He hasn't looked at you once today, and you can't help it as your mind goes to the worst case scenario of losing him forever because of one stupid moment.

You had considered pretending that you don't remember anything from the bar, but he just left you there. That isn't something you can forget so easily, and even as you're trying to ignore it, you don't want to avoid him. But it isn't that simple.

You're simultaneously hurt and embarrassed, but it isn't even your own feelings that are at the forefront of your mind. You haven't been to his place in over a week, and you miss Jack and you miss him. You haven't gone this long without talking to him in years. 

Fuck.

***

Your quest to stay out of trouble results in you staying late at the office to get ahead on all of your work. Most nights you were staying even later than JJ and Aaron, but then JJ got sent to the DoD as a media liaison, and the work started piling up.

You did what you could to intercept some of the paperwork before it landed on his desk, especially since Jack was so close to starting preschool and you know Aaron wants to take any extra moment of face time he can get, but it wasn't a foolproof system.

That's why it's almost midnight after getting back from a case in Ohio, and Aaron's office light is still on. Knowing it's about time you broke the cone of silence you've been under, you walk up the stairs, giving yourself ample time to change your mind.

A minute later, you knock on his door, before pushing it open gently, waiting to see the look on his face.

"Oh, you're still here," he says, his eyes lingering on you for an extra moment before turning back to his work. "Come in."

You shut the door behind you and sit in the chair in front of his desk. It doesn't sink like it usually does, and it takes you a second to realize that he finally replaced it. After all this time...

"Are you heading home soon?" you ask, trying to feign nonchalance. You can't remember the last time you overthought every single thing you said to him.

Yes, you do, your brain mocks you. A film reel of your awkward senior year of high school starts playing in your mind and one lone thought sticks out among the cacophony of memories. You loved him.

"Yeah, I'm almost done," he says with a sigh, his eyes still trained on his paper.

You frown. "Really?"

"No."

That surprises a chuckle out of you and you lean forward in the chair. It's stiffer than you're used to, and it creaks as you slide in closer. "Want any help?"

He shakes his head. "You should head home. It's late."

You don't say anything and when he finally meets your eye, you shoot him a look.

He sighs, begrudgingly handing you a stack of files. "With JJ gone, it's been a little hectic. I have to go through the new cases coming in, as well as completing the post-case paperwork."

"Shit," you whisper, not knowing what else to say. Even as you tried to cut down his workload, it wasn't even scratching the surface. "I didn't realize that was all on you."

"Yeah, for the time being," he shrugs, raking a hand through his hair to push it back, even as it bounces right back into place. "But it'll be easier when they bring us someone new."

That stops you in your tracks. "How new? Because you know I really liked Jordan, but she was too green for the BAU."

"Newer," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. "They're considering some Academy cadets who are finishing up their remedial training."

"Cadets?" you echo, your voice rising an octave. "They're babies."

"They're at least 25," he states, the corner of his lip twitching. "Besides, their remedial training would have been with the BAU, so they'll know what they're getting into."

They'll know what they're getting into.

It's not a dig, but the juvenile corner of your brain hangs onto his words, trying to make out some double meaning.

"That's some relief, I guess." You flip open the first file, trying to pay attention as you scan the brief, but it just reminds you of how much you miss JJ.

"She was so much better at this," you groan, flipping the page. "I'm not sure anyone can replace her."

"I'm definitely sure that no one can," Aaron says simply as he glances up at you, "but we'll take any help we can get at this point."

There's a layer of subtext behind his tone, and you don't know if you're equipped to decipher it right now, after being up for almost 24 hours. Nevertheless, you don't give in as he looks at you, refusing to break eye contact. 

Please be okay, your mind begs as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Please say I didn't fuck this all up.

His eyebrows raise slightly, checking in on you for the first time in so so long, and another thought takes over your mind. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Blinking away the thought, you nod, but you can't stop yourself as you clarify, "It's just a temp assignment, right?"

He finishes the sentence he was writing before looking up. "Yes. It's only temporary."

***

"Daddy, don't look at me."

Jack's voice filters out from his bedroom and he looks at Jess with a small laugh as she pretends to lock her lips and toss away the key.

"I'm not looking," he calls out. "Are you almost ready?"

There's a small sound of affirmation from down the hall, so he stands up from the couch and reaches for the little jack-o-lantern bag that Jack wanted to use for trick-or-treating.

When he looks up, his son is emerging from his room, dressed incredibly unlike the comic book character he wanted to be for Halloween.

"Whoa," Aaron says, his voice a low rumble. "That is definitely not Spider-Man."

Jack just shrugs. "He's not a real superhero."

"He's not?" He looks at his son again, trying to discern which superhero wears a suit. "Okay. I give up. Who are you supposed to be?"

The answer is immediate. "I'm you, Daddy."

Jess nudges his shoulder with a laugh before she walks forward and swings Jack into the air. "You look just like him, bud!"

He opens his mouth to add onto that sentiment, but his throat thickens with emotion and he has to clear his throat to get a word out. "You tied my tie so well." It's the best he can do with his eyes burning. All he wanted was for his son to feel safe and loved. Maybe I'm doing something right.

"Alright, buddy," Jess smiles, setting him down. "Grab your coat and shoes and we'll head out."

Jack runs off and she smiles at him again, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're a great dad."

"Thank you," he says simply, his lips curving up into a smile. She says it a lot, but for the first time in a while, he's finally starting to believe it.

Jess opens her mouth to say something, but she pauses for an extra second, piquing his interest. "I haven't seen Y/N around here in a little bit."

There it is. He should've seen it coming. "Yeah, she's just busy."

His words don't sound convincing, even to his own ears, and Jess shoots him a look to match. "I happen to know you quite well, Aaron. So if you're overthinking something you shouldn't be, let me be the first to say, you're being an idiot."

He lets out a surprised snort. "Thanks, Jessica."

"I'm just saying," she shrugs, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. "I see things...and I know both of you, so it's not hard to read into things."

He takes a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "It's not like that."

He expects her to push back, but she just presses her lips together and shrugs her coat on. "Either way, Haley saw it too...and she seemed happy about it."

Before he has a chance to fully process her words, Jack rushes out, barreling into him. "I'm ready!"

"Alright, my little G-man," he grins, pushing her words out of his head for the night. "Let's go get some candy."

***

Things have been shifting at the office. Ever since JJ left, the team has felt smaller, and with your unintentional (okay, maybe a little intentional) avoidance of Aaron, the office hasn't felt the same in a long time.

Everyone has been taking on more than they're used to, and when Penelope had to fill in for JJ in a press conference during your last case, you couldn't help but notice how she turned to Aaron for support whenever she felt unprepared.

Your curiosity about their shared secret was eating at you all day, until you received a mass email from him to the whole team. Re: Garcia's play, Tolgate Theater, 8pm

You didn't have any plans tonight anyway, and after long days in a seemingly endless rotation of slacks and blazers, you welcome the chance to dress up a little bit. It's not like you go out often (or at all) unless it's with the team.

Pushing to the back of your closet, you rifle through the longer dresses and gowns you own, before landing on a light green, silk number. It has a halter neckline that drapes loosely around your neck, and you haven't worn it since before Jeff died, because it always felt like too much.

But Emily messaged you after getting home with a photo of her dress too, and even though it may be a lot for a little neighborhood theater, you're excited about something for the first time in a long while.

After putting on the dress and doing your makeup a bit darker than usual, you grab your keys and head out.

~

He got to the theater a bit earlier than the rest of the team, mostly to apologize to Garcia and warn her about the onslaught of support she was going to be getting, but he also wanted to get there before you did, so he could save a seat for you beside him.

From an outsider's perspective, he imagines there wouldn't seem to be anything different or wrong with your relationship, but he has been feeling the frustrating tension between the two of you since that night out.

Speaking with Jess on Halloween felt like a welcome reprieve from his cycle of self-loathing, and he finally feels more free than he has in ages.

Emily, Derek, and Spencer arrive a short while later, and he points them toward the seats he booked out, before heading back to the lobby, where family and friends of the performers are milling around.

When Dave arrives, he's also dressed in a suit. "We certainly clean up nicely."

He coughs out a laugh. "I haven't pulled this suit out in years."

"Well, aside from the cobwebs," Dave jokes, brushing an imaginary piece of dust from his shoulder, "you look classy."

"Thanks," he smiles, patting the older man's arm. "You should head inside. We're sitting about halfway up."

"You coming?" Dave asks as he steps around him.

Aaron shakes his head, glancing back at the door again. "I'm going to wait for...everyone to get here. I'll meet you inside."

He nods, before smacking his shoulder once and walking into the theater. When Dave's out of sight, he turns back around and pulls his phone out, trying to look busy.

He scrolls through a couple of his latest emails before tucking his phone away. The front door of the theater opens then, and when he looks up, all of the air leaves his lungs.

It feels like the world is moving in slow motion as you glide inside, your dress billowing down as the breeze from outside settles. You look incredible, and he feels like a teenager again, when he was so in love with you he couldn't breathe.

He watches you glance around, clearly searching for a familiar face, so he walks up, approaching you slowly to give you time to notice him.

"Oh, hi!" you say, your lips curving up into a smile as he tucks a hand into his pocket. "Am I late?"

"Not at all," he says, hating how strained his voice sounds. "The play starts at the top of the hour."

"Perfect," you smile, removing your shawl from your shoulders and folding it in your hands. "You clean up well, by the way."

There's a slight tinge of humor in your voice, and you're looking at him expectantly, likely waiting for him to lead you to the seats, but he can't move. He's terrified of what he's feeling, but you look amazing, and he's surrounded by people he doesn't know, so he doesn't overthink it as he reaches out and slips a hand onto your waist.

You clearly aren't expecting it as he pulls you in closer, his fingers sliding across the silkiness of your dress. You smell like flowers, and he can't help himself as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "You're beautiful."

Reality doesn't set in until he lets you go. Your cheeks are slightly flushed and he can't think straight, but the moment you step away from him and head to theater doors, the fog clears.

What is he doing?

The rational part of his brain takes over and he mumbles a curse under his breath before jogging forward to follow you inside. At least for the time being, he has the play to cover himself, but when morning comes, and brings with it the harsh light of day, he's fucked.

***

His skin is burning. The temperature in his office feels like it has been turned all the way up, but even as he undoes his cufflinks and rolls his sleeves back, the heat doesn't abate.

He is loosening his tie when his office door opens, revealing you in your rumpled button down and slacks. He opens his mouth to ask why you're still here, but before he can get a word out, you're shutting the door behind you and locking it.

"What are you doing?" he asks as you saunter over to him, stepping around his desk and pressing your hands to the armrests of his chair. "Y/N, it's late-"

"Shut up," you say firmly, twisting his chair toward you with a strong pull. He moves to get up, but you push his shoulder down to keep him in his chair.

He already doesn't know what to say, but every thought leaves his brain as you sink down to your knees before him.

"Don't move," you whisper, your eyes glinting up at him as you deftly undo the buckle of his belt and yank his pants open. "I'm in charge now."

He lets out a gasp as you tug his pants down in one go, and before he can do anything, your fingers are on him. Your lips curve into a smile as his breath hitches, and even with the thin fabric of his boxers between you two, the sensations coursing through him feel so magnified and new.

He is already hard as a rock, and you've barely even touched him. Teasingly slow, you pull his boxers down, watching as his cock springs free from the confines. Without wasting another second, you run your tongue up his length, and he grits his teeth to keep the groans in his throat from spilling out.

Your lips slowly close around his tip and the wet heat makes his head fall back as he tries to calm his breathing down. His chest is heaving like he just went for a run, but when you hollow your cheeks around him, he can't keep the moan inside. He loses control for a moment as he reaches forward to grasp onto your hair, but that only seems to spur you on, as you bob your head even faster.

The wet sounds of your mouth sliding over his cock fill the office, and he clutches his armrest with one hand and uses the other to guide your head.

He's already so close, and the soft grip of your hands on his thighs aren't helping as he tries to hold off, to prolong this feeling. At the last second, you swirl your tongue around the tip, and he chokes out a gasp, but then-

His eyes fly open to the lonely darkness of his bedroom. The room is warmer than it usually is, and his skin feels sticky with sweat under his covers. His mind, on the other hand...

He doesn't remember every moment of the dream, but the message was clear enough. His boxers are still tight from the memory, and he tries as hard as he can to think about anything else, but he keeps going back to the image of you, in front of him, kneeling-

Throwing the covers off, he sits up quickly and climbs out of bed, needing to clear his head in the only effective way he knows of. He shrugs his clothes off on the way to the bathroom, and he turns the shower on, making the water steaming hot, before stepping inside. The steam fogs up the glass around him, but he can still see the bare outline of his shame in the mirror across from the shower.

But now isn't the time, not with his skin burning and his cock pulsing in his hand. He pumps a few times as the hot water cascades over him, trying to set a rhythm, but it doesn't feel right. He keeps nearing the edge before the wave pulls back, and he lets out a soft groan in frustration as he presses his forehead to the glass.

Just once, he thinks as he grips himself again, his mind shifting back to his dream. Only this once.

His brain fills with the images from earlier: you on your knees, your mouth warm and wet over him, the pinpricks of sweat across the swells of your chest where your shirt was unbuttoned. He pictures your mouth as he ruts into his own hand, pretending, wishing, it was you instead.

It only takes a few more pumps before he finishes, spilling onto the white floor of his shower. The energy leaves him as he slumps against the wall, twisting the knob to a cooler setting, before shutting it off completely.

He still has a few more hours of sleep left before he has to get up for work, but he spends all night tossing and turning in the wide, empty expanse of his bed.

***

"What do you think he meant?"

"Maybe it's like a new manual, or guidebook."

"What are you two on about?" You walk up to your desk and slump down into the chair as Emily and Spencer look up with meek smiles.

Spencer is the first to crack. "We were discussing what Hotch might have meant by a 'different tactic' to solve this case in New Mexico."

You frown. "The gated community one? I thought Dave was just flying over ahead of us to get a head start."

"Nope," Emily shakes her head, before turning around. "He's in Hotch's office right now."

You look up just as Aaron and Dave exit the office and begin their descent down the stairs. Dave is ahead of him, with a big smile on his face, as he pushes past all of you.

It's only after you turn around that you realize who he's looking at. The woman he pulls into a hug is young - Academy cadet young - and she's pretty too.

"Ashley!" Rossi exclaims as he lets her go.

Hotch walks up behind them and shakes her hand. "Agent trainee Seaver is on loan to us from the Academy."

He introduces her to each of you, and you reach forward to shake her hand, a big smile on your face. After he told you that the bureau was considering someone new, you have had your guard up, but you don't want to make a bad impression in case she's here to stay.

"It's great to meet all of you," she says with a meek smile.

You pat her shoulder before walking past her to speak with Aaron about whether Seaver was the the new addition he was talking about. But when you lift your hand to get his attention, he turns away without looking at you, and leads Rossi out of the bullpen.

~

In the New Mexico gated community where three women have been murdered so far, Emily and Derek split off to check out the last crime scene, so you stay with the rest of the team and Seaver at one of the model homes to go through the evidence.

You can't help but notice how Spencer's eyes keep flitting over to the new girl, and a grin crosses your lips as you nudge his shoulder later.

"You totally have a thing for the new girl."

"Wha-what, no?!" he sputters, his face twisting into an unconvincing frown. "I don't even know her."

You just shrug. "You can still think she's pretty."

"That's irrelevant," he mutters, nudging you back and grabbing one of the files in front of him. "Do you think we can trust the local police?"

"I don't know," you sigh, letting him change the subject. "We definitely can't rule them out, especially in a community as clustered as this."

You glance across the room to Aaron and Dave, who are standing hunched over a laptop with the local detective. They're brows are all equally furrowed, and Aaron looks so focused you doubt he would hear you if you yelled his name right now.

Dropping the file onto the counter, you step around Reid and walk over to the trio, listening in as they start speaking.

"You interviewed every adult male in the community?"

The detective nods. "More than once. They're all digitized."

Aaron glances up as you approach, but when he realizes who it is, his eyes dart back to the screen. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of seconds, and he sees a frown cross your face out of his periphery. Fuck. He has to be more careful. You're a fucking profiler, for god's sake.

"Were all the interviews confrontational like this?" you ask as you come up beside him. He can feel the warmth of your arm inches away from his, and he leans his weight to the other side, trying not to think about his dream while you're standing this close to him.

"Is that wrong?"

Rossi raises his eyebrow. "You didn't get much out of them, did you?"

The detective shakes his head before skipping to the next interview, and everyone leans in closer to get a better look. With four of you surrounding the screen, it's harder to see, and when you press your hand to his shoulder to balance yourself, he all but flinches back from your touch.

The movement is harsh enough that everyone but the detective notices. His eyes fly to you as shock and confusion cross your face, and before anyone can say anything, he mutters something that sounds like 'sorry' before rushing out of the model home.

~

You're chasing after him the moment he's out of sight. Dave reaches forward to catch your arm but you shake him off, rushing out of the house and onto the street, which has been cleared by the local police since you arrived.

"Aaron!" you call out as he walks ahead of you, his hand raking through his hair. To his credit, he comes to a stop the moment he hears your voice, and you catch up to him quickly, stopping just short of him on the sidewalk. "What is going on? I thought we were okay?"

His eyes close for a beat, before his face hardens into a steely calm. You can no longer pretend like everything's fine. It hasn't been for a long time - not since the bar, and maybe even before - but you've always been good at compartmentalizing what you don't want to feel. With your mom, and Jeff, and Haley, you could push down the hurt until it dissolved into your bloodstream, spreading everywhere. It wore you down and thinned you out, but at least it wasn't overwhelming.

Looking at him now - your best friend, the man you...love. Your breath catches in your throat and he shakes his head, not looking at you. "What do you mean, Y/N?"

You wish you could keep pretending, like he seems to be able to, but it's just not fair anymore. Not to him, and especially not to you. "No, don't do this. Don't act like I'm the only one who sees how wrong this has been for the last few months. I used to talk to you everyday, Aaron. We've barely spoken in weeks!"

His face cracks for a moment and you see the glimmer of pain in his eyes before the wall comes up again. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" you yell, your tone more forceful than you expect. "What are you sorry for, Aaron?"

He looks at you then, the facade falling away as your words sink in. The lines of pain and tension settle in and you're almost relieved that he's finally showing you the truth instead of hiding away what he's feeling. But then the despair returns as his lips thin into a line, unable to answer your question.

"What," you repeat, your words tinged with malice, "are you sorry for?"

He whispers your name softly, like it's an apology on it's own, before using his next words to tear you to pieces. "Don't make me say it."

A soft gasp leaves your mouth and you involuntarily take a step back, like he's slapped you in the face. He runs a hand over his neck and a sudden feverish anger rushes through you as you shake your head, blinking back tears. "Don't do that. I know it's not just me, Aaron. It's not-"

"Please," he whispers suddenly, cutting you off. "Please don't do this."

It's almost like he's begging you, and you jerk back, unable to look at him. Men have hurt you before, in so many ways, but nothing has ever cut deeper than this. You don't think your bullet wound hurt this much, and at least then you had him to support you. Now you're all alone.

The aching heartbreak hits you all at once and you brush a loose tear off your cheek before turning around and leaving him out on the sidewalk, watching you walk away.

***

"Something's up."

Penelope bumps Emily's shoulder to grab her attention. After a second, she looks up from her desk. "What was that?"

"Something," Penelope repeats, her eyes darting back and forth between you and Aaron, "is up. Y/N and Hotch haven't looked at each other in like four days. Earlier, she was talking to someone on the stairs and he literally walked out of his office and then back inside again."

Emily looks at her. "Are you sure you aren't reading into anything?"

Penelope shoots her a look that can only mean 'you're kidding, right?' "They're inseparable. Something must have happened in the last few weeks that we don't know about."

Before she can stop her, Penelope stands up and barrels over to you, with Emily on her heels like an owner who just dropped her dog's leash.

"Y/N!" Penelope calls out as she approaches you. You look up from your desk with a frown, before your face breaks into a forced smile that both of them can see through immediately. "We wanted to catch up."

You glance at Emily, who shrugs, earning a look of chagrin from the other agent.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?" you ask, your forehead crinkling in a manner reminiscent of your boss.

Penelope pauses for a moment, like she's trying to think. "Uhh, I'm not sure. Maybe about...you and Hotch?"

"Subtle," Emily mutters under her breath as your face scrunches into a confused frown. "She just means that you two have seemed kind of off lately, and we were wondering if everything was okay."

You press your lips together, unsure of how to broach this topic, even with some of your closest friends. "It's nothing."

That pulls a frown from both of them, and you sigh, doubling down on your feigned nonchalance. "It's really nothing, guys. I just...can't see him right now."

You turn back to your work and Emily and Penelope share a look, twin realizations clicking in both of their minds. They rush back to Penelope's office, and Emily shuts the door behind them, before they both blurt out something that sounds like: "We all know what's going on here."

"We have to make him jealous," Emily agrees with a nod.

She pulls open her desk drawer and pulls out her address book. "I have just the thing."

***

"I messed up, Haley."

The ground is hard from the chilly December air, and he sits uncomfortably on the familiar granite bench before her grave. There is a bouquet of dried-up flowers leaning against her headstone, and he doesn't have to think too hard to figure out who they're from.

"I'm trying not to," he whispers, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets to warm them up, "but I keep messing up."

A cool breeze wafts over him and the rustle of the nearby trees feels like an acknowledgement. Like she's really listening.

"She hates me," he sighs, his chin dropping to his chest as he shuts his eyes. The wind picks up slightly, and it's like he can hear Haley's voice in his head. She doesn't hate you. She's hurt.

"I know." He runs a gloved hand over his face, the cold sending a small shiver through his body. "It's my fault. I just don't know what to do or how to fix it."

Her reply in his mind is almost immediate.Yes you do.

He shakes his head, feeling like an idiot for talking to himself, even though it's helping him work through his emotions. "I don't. I really don't."

For a few moments, all he can hear is the rustle of tree branches and the low whistle of the wind blowing around the headstones. You have to tell her how you feel.

His chest tightens and he lifts his face, letting the cold air sting his skin, like some kind of penance. "Don't you think I want to? Every time I look at her, I'm terrified it's going to come out, but I can't say it." He takes a deep breath as the words start to flow out. He hasn't said them out loud to anyone, but right here feels like the safest place to let them out. "I love her."

Three simple words and it's like a weight lifts off of his chest. He still doesn't have the answers, but at least he can admit it to himself.  "I'm in love with her, Hales. The only person in this world that I love more is Jack."

He can practically see her smile as he glances down at her name etched in stone. Then what's the problem.

"I'm gonna fuck it up. I always do." The words come out before he has a chance to think, almost like they've been sitting on the tip of his tongue for ages. He looks down at the ground again, imagining her sitting in front of him. "I did with you."

This time, his mind doesn't have the answer for him. He's finally in a good place with his son, and with the addition of Seaver to the team, his work load has been marginally cut back, so he doesn't really have an excuse anymore. It's just his fear of losing one of the only good things in his life that keeps holding him back.

But you're already losing her. 

It's his own voice berating him this time, instead of Haley's. 

You're trying so hard to hold her at arm's length that you haven't even noticed that she has stopped pushing her way in.

The wind rushes over him and he looks at the headstone again, his eyes tracing over Haley's name one more time, before he stands up and walks back down the hill.

***

Dave's annual new year's eve party has always been a fairly large spectacle, but when Aaron leads Jack up his driveway that evening, the sheer number of (expensive) cars lined up outside is nearly staggering.

He knew it wouldn't just be the team here tonight, but he wasn't expecting the sheer scale of the party, especially while his mind has been so pre-occupied with the prospect of seeing you outside of work for the first time in weeks. 

The front door is unlocked when they reach the top of the porch, so he carefully pushes it open and leads Jack inside. He's only an hour late, but the hallways are already crowded with groups milling around, having loud conversations with a drink in their hand.

He doesn't recognize anyone until he gets to the kitchen, where he sees the rest of the team (minus Dave) chatting around a small snack table.

"Y/N!" Jack shrieks when he sees you, letting go of his hand immediately and running forward. You turn at the sound of his voice, and your face breaks out into a wide smile as the boy barrels over and throws his arms around you.

"Jack-o-lantern!" you gush, lifting him up and hugging him, your eyes falling shut as you squeeze the boy tightly.

Any onlooker can tell that his son loves you. For a while after Haley's death, Jack was closed off to every female figure in his life - even Jess - but he never shied away from you.

I love you, a voice in the back of his mind whispers as you set Jack down and press a kiss to the top of his head. I love you I love you I love you.

~

After Dave returned from the back patio and whisked away Aaron and Jack to meet some of his other friends, you loitered around the kitchen for a while, chatting with Derek and Spencer about their resolutions for the new year.

You're refilling your glass with some diluted punch when JJ and Emily sneak up behind you with matching mischievous expressions. 

"What did you guys do?" you ask, gulping back some punch in preparation for whatever they're about to spring on you.

"There's someone we want you to meet," Emily grins as she reaches forward to loop her arm through yours.

"Oh, no way," you say, already shaking your head before they can elaborate. "You are not setting me up with some random bureau guy again."

"That was only one time," JJ pouts, before beckoning to the hallway across from the kitchen. You glance over her shoulder and spot Will standing with a man you've never seen before. "I had Will bring one of his single friends tonight. He's an architect, and he's super smart and super cute. Totally your type."

You raise an eyebrow as you inspect the man from across the room. He's definitely easy on the eyes, but he's also not your type. There's only one man who fits into that box.

"I don't know," you sigh, setting your glass down on the table behind you. "It's very sudden."

"C'mon," Emily urges, her eyes glinting with amusement. "It'll be good. Just talk and flirt a little, and if you're into it then you have a new year's kiss locked up!"

Kissing someone you just met in front of all of your colleagues sounds like nightmare fuel, but you can't think of another way to get your friends off your back. "Okay, fine, I'll meet him."

~

After leaving Jack with Henry and the other children, he heads back into the main section of the house, hoping to run into you. He doesn't know what he would say if he does, but anything is better than the avoidance game you've been playing.

He sees Penelope and JJ first, but you're not with them, so he continues forward, deftly stepping around throngs of people conversing in little pockets around the house. 

"Hotch, over here!"

He whips around to find Derek, Will, and Dave waving him over to join them in the kitchen. He grabs a piece of cheese off a platter on his way over, and Derek pats him on the back when he reaches the three of them. 

They return to their prior topic of conversation, and he tunes them out as his eyes dart around the room, still looking for you. He's about to give up when he spots the familiar hue of your hair down the hall. His lips curve up in a small smile as he watches you lean your head back with a big laugh that he swears he can hear even from all the way over here. He's about to excuse himself from the guys when a hand reaches out to gently touch your forearm, and you don't shake it off.

It's only then that he notices the man you're talking to, and how enamored he looks as you burst into another bout of laughter. Something that feels like ice settles in the pit of his stomach and he turns back to the guys just as they notice what he's been looking at.

"They seem to be hitting it off," Will grins, crossing his arms over his chest. "My friend's a good guy, and he mentioned wanting to meet her after they crossed paths at one of me and JJ's dinner parties."

He notices Dave glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but he can't bear to look at the older man, for fear that he'll give something away. Aaron feels the nauseating pit of jealousy in his stomach, but it's not fair. He pushed you away.

He turns away from you and tries to focus on literally anything else, but it's not long before he's unable to fight the urge to look at you from his spot in the kitchen. You can't see him watching you, and it gives him the obscurity he needs to observe you from afar, but it also makes it much more conspicuous to his friends.

You don't leave the company of Will's friend until much later in the night, and soon it's almost midnight. The countdown starts as everyone in the house lifts their glasses and latches onto their significant others.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

He's turning before he knows what he's doing. He can't help it, it's almost magnetic, the pull you have on him. 

You're not looking at him, and he can only see your side profile as you glance up at the clock as it ticks down.

"Five, four, three, two..."

He turns away at the last second, unable to stomach the thought of you kissing someone else, but when the crowd erupts into cheers, he looks back to find that you're gone. His heart rates spikes and he pushes through people, ignoring the pats on his back as people wish him a "Happy new year". 

He eventually spots you through the back windows, and he steps out into the frigid air to accompany you on the back porch steps. You're sitting on the top step, your bare arms wrapped around your body for some semblance of warmth, and for a moment, he can't move.

He can't decide if he should go to you or let you have the space you so clearly wanted, but then a voice in the back of his skull yells at him through all the noise. She's your best friend in the world. A few months ago, the answer would have been obvious.

A switch flips and he steps forward, sliding off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You let out a soft sigh as he sinks down next to you, and he watches as your eyes glisten in the lamplight. 

You don't look at him as you press your elbows into your knees and rub a hand over your neck. "How did this get so fucked up?"

He sighs too, a heavy sound. "I don't know." 

He's still looking at you, at the tears in your eyes, when you finally take a deep breath and turn to face him. A tear slips down your cheek and his brain fires off sparks again. I love you, I love you, I love you.

He wants to say it so badly, but then the newest factor in all of his confusion jumps back into the forefront. The Pakistan assignment. He has been trying to push it off, but he's getting so much pressure from the brass, and that's just one more thing he's hiding from you. 

He breaks your eye contact and you let out a slow breath, almost like you felt him lose his nerve in real time. Without another word, you wipe the tears from your face and stand up, leaving him out in the cold once again.

***

The bureau gives you a week off at the start of the new year, but you can't enjoy any of your alone time. Every second you let your mind wander, your thoughts are invaded by the look on his face as he turned away from you. 

You had seen it in his eyes out there, in the freezing cold air as the clock struck midnight. At least a small part of him felt for you the same way you felt for him. But it's not enough.

You've been alone for so many years. When you married Jeff, you were done. You didn't think you'd have to ever feel this kind of heartbreak again, but now that you feel that kind of love again, you refuse to settle for anything less than what you deserve. And what you deserve is someone who can show you how he feels. 

Nevertheless, you can't control your subconscious. 

That's why you're laying in bed at the end of the week, staring at your nightlight across the room and somehow managing to simultaneously miss him and hate him. It's well past midnight and you can't sleep, but you don't want to give in to the urge that's been tugging at your gut all night. 

You're so angry with him, but he's also the only person you want to talk to when you're feeling anything you can't explain. It only takes another minute before you're giving in and snatching your phone off your bedside table.

It rings for a long time before he finally answers. 

He whispers your name softly, his voice gravelly as though he just woke up. He sounds confused, but it has to mean something that he answered his phone at this hour.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks, his voice still a bit gruff from the tiredness. "What's wrong?"

I miss you, you want to say. Instead, you panic and ask the first question that pops into your head: "Why do you think The Beatles broke up?"

The line goes silent for a moment before he sighs quietly. "Everyone blames Yoko but you know I think they just stopped working well together creatively." 

"It was probably Lennon deciding to leave the band," you say, unsure where you're going with this. "Yeah, that makes the most sense."

"Maybe," he says, his voice a low hum.

There's no tinge of impatience or irritation in his tone, but you still feel awful for waking him up in the early hours of the morning to chat about a band. 

You take a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for what you're about to say, but the breath catches in your throat as a small sob escapes. "I'm so mad at you."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, before Aaron exhales sharply. "I know."

Your resolve fades almost immediately and you sink back into your pillows. "I'm not mad at you." He quietly huffs out a laugh, but you can tell his heart isn't in it. "I'm hurt, and yeah, I'm kind of mad at you, but the only person I want to talk to is you."

You can hear his breath stutter over the speaker, and he rears up to say something, before thinking better of it. "It's late, Y/N. You should go to bed."

"Yeah," you say eventually, rubbing tears of frustration from your eyes. "I'm sorry, yeah."

"No," he says quickly, his voice hurried as though he's afraid you'll hang up. "Don't apologize. I'm glad you called."

Your heart flutters pathetically. "Okay."

"Why were you up anyway?" he asks after a moment.

You shrug, even though he can't see you, wiping away the last remnants of your tears. "Couldn't sleep."

Something that sounds like a quiet chuckle floats into your ears. "Try turning off that massive nightlight."

Your eyes widen and you inadvertently glance over at the beacon of light plugged in across the room. "What nightlight?"

He hums again. "Goodnight, Y/N." I love you.

"Goodnight, Aaron." I love you too.

***

It started when Emily arrived late to the briefing. She was never late, so that itself was enough to set off your alarms, but then you noticed her fingers. She's biting her nails again.

Aaron finishes briefing you all about the two families murdered in house fires in the DC area, before you disperse and head back to your desks to read up about the evidence.

When you drop your bag down and sink into your chair, you don't miss how Spencer visibly flinches in his seat, his eyes twitching with exhaustion.

"Sorry, Spence," you say earnestly, turning to him with an anxious look. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he answers quickly, his eyes darting back down to the case file. "I'm... I'm...I'm sure these victims overlap somehow. Garcia pulled their phone numbers, but so far I can't find anything."

You've been working with him long enough to notice when he's deflecting, especially when he's doing such a bad job of it. "Spencer, you just jumped."

He takes a deep breath and you're suddenly grateful that his shorter haircut allows you to get a better view of his expression, even with his head down. "I've been having these really intense headaches lately." "Have you seen a doctor?" you ask, sliding your chair in to get a better look at him. "Yeah, a few. None of them have been able to figure it out." "I'm sorry," you say genuinely as guilt and shame flood your veins. You've been so preoccupied with your own drama that you haven't been paying any attention to your friends. First Emily, and now Spencer. "Does anyone know?"

His lips press into an adorable line. "You." "I won't tell anyone," you assure him, your eyebrows scrunching down. "I'm glad you're telling me now." "I know," he nods. "I just didn't want you to worry."

"I won't make a big deal out of it," you tell him, your lips curving up in a playful smile, "if that's what you were worried about."

"Thanks," he mutters, but you can tell his heart isn't really in it.

It's been so long since you sat down and caught up with your teammates, and given how weird Emily has been acting, you figure it's about time. 

~

"Have you noticed anything off with Emily?"

It's Penelope who comes to you first about the change in your teammate's disposition. You had clocked the small jab Emily had thrown at her after the briefing, but didn't want to intrude in case it was personal. You're starting to realize it might be a lot more personal than you originally thought.

"I have," you say simply, glancing back at her across the bullpen. Her head is down and her shoulders are hunched forward as she quickly types something out on her phone. 

She waits for another moment before jolting upright and standing up. Before either of you can get a chance to ask what's wrong, she is jetting off to the bathroom.

"I got this one," you tell Penelope before strutting off to follow her.

She's looking at her phone again when the bathroom door shuts behind you, and you approach her slowly so as not to spook her. "Hey, I just wanted to check up on you. You sped out of there."

"I'm fine," she says, trying to brush away your worry with a wave of her hand.

You frown, taking a step forward. "Are you sure? I noticed you've been biting your-"

"Don't profile me, Y/N," she snaps, her head turning to level you with a glare that would have scared the shit out of you if you didn't know her so well. It doesn't last long though, and before you can get another word out, she's already apologizing. "I'm sorry. I-I'm gonna be alright. I promise. I'm just having this nightmare."

She details her dream to you, and the profiler in you can't help but relate it to her own lack of trust, but then she looks at you with a genuine smile and you just have to smile back.

"Somehow, you.." she pauses for a beat. "You always make me feel better. I don't think I've ever thanked you for that."

Her words feel so final, like she's saying goodbye, and a bolt of terror shoots through you before you decide you're being dramatic.

She's your friend. She's gonna be alright.

~

Emily's gone. She slipped out during Aaron's multi-agency task force briefing, and none of you noticed.

How could you not have noticed?

You're kicking yourself as Spencer pulls out a sheet of paper from one of Emily's contacts, with a list of undercover names all with the initials L.R. 

"Prentiss is the last name on the list," Rossi deduces as you mentally check back into the conversation. Your eyes scan the board with the name 'Lauren Reynolds' written at the top. "That means she's on Doyle's list too."

"Guys," Aaron calls out from Emily's desk, holding up her things in his hands, "she left her badge and gun."

"Why would she do that?" Penelope asks, her voice small like a child's. "We're her family."

That's when you finally find your voice. "She ran to protect us." You turn to Aaron then, your eyes flashing over his like it's the first time you've ever really looked at him. "How do we find her?"

"We need to profile their behavior," he instructs, moving to the front board. "Doyle is our unsub and Prentiss is our victim. We treat it like any other case." 

There's the small sound of a door opening and Aaron looks up, beckoning his chin to the back. "Because terrorism isn't an area we specialize in, I've reached out to an expert from the State Department...someone who can also shed light on Prentiss' past."

You whip around to the sight of a familiar head of blonde hair walking into the briefing room. The tension in your shoulders abates for a split second as gratitude cascades over you. God, you missed her.

JJ saunters forward and nods at each of you, her expression already rigid with concentration. "Let's get to work."

~

Profiling Emily takes you all to Boston, where the evidence from the previous victims adds up to the conclusion that Doyle is a family annihilator. When you also find out that he has a secret son, you and Derek lead the team to the warehouse where the son was last taken, in the hopes that Emily would have made the same connection.

The sound of a loud crash sends you running, but Derek is faster and he gets there before you. You enter the back room to find Emily bleeding out on the floor, a large wooden post stuck through her abdomen.

"I got her!" he yells into his comms before pressing his hands onto her wound. "Prentiss. It's me, I'm right here."

She mumbles something that sounds like his name and your chest floods with relief. You step out of the room to call for a medic, but when you get back, she isn't moving.

"Emily!" Derek yells as you sink to your knees beside him. Your pants are wet with her blood, and it feels like ice against your skin. How can there be so much blood in the human body? 

"Come on," he pleads, tightening his grip on her hand. "Stay with me!"

"Emily, please," you whisper, your throat hoarse from the unshed tears. You press your fingers to her pulse. "Please."

The medics come eventually, and she is taken to the hospital, where the whole team is holed up in the waiting room. Spencer hasn't stopped pacing since she was taken into surgery and you can't seem to take your face out of your hands, even as people press comforting pats on your shoulders. 

You don't notice anything going on around you until JJ comes back from speaking with the doctor with tears in her eyes. No, oh god no.

You barely register her words as she whispers, "She never made it off the table."

It's only then that you stand up. You're not sure what you're planning to do, but as soon as you try to move, your legs start shaking, like you're slipping in quicksand. Aaron steps towards you just as your body gives out and you collapse onto him, quiet sobs bubbling out of your throat.

"She was just here," you cry into his chest while you clutch his shirt as though your life depends on it. "How can she be gone?"

His hands rub comforting circles into your back as his arms tighten around you, keeping you upright, and you can't help but imagine that this picture looks vaguely reminiscent of his home last year when you held him up as he broke down. 

Emily's gone.

You can't even remember why you were so angry with him before. Everything outside of this moment feels so trivial, like you've been wasting so much time. You need him now, and you're so thankful he's here to hold you up even though his pain is just as big as yours.

Aaron wraps himself tighter around you, fighting the tears that are rushing forward, because they just aren't fair. His whole team is falling apart in front of him, and he's one of two people here who knows the truth.

You choke out another sob and he tugs you upward, helping you stand again as you wipe the tears from your face. Out of the corner of his periphery, he sees JJ pull Spencer into a hug, and she meets his eye over the younger agent's shoulder. So much pain.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you ask suddenly, your voice so small he's sure he's the only person who can hear you. "How are we supposed to keep going?"

The familiar echoing emptiness of guilt swallows him whole and he sucks in a sharp breath in a futile effort to keep himself from drowning. Your glistening eyes are so wide with despair, and he pulls you back into his arms, mostly for comfort, but also because he can't stand to see you in pain for much longer. When he finally finds his voice, all that comes out is, "I don't know."

***

You can barely remember the funeral. 

When you try to think about it, there are flashes of white gloves and red roses and rough, brown dirt, but the only thing that really sticks out is the pressure of Aaron's hand over yours as you stood in front of her casket while they lowered her into the ground.

So many funerals, so many gravestones. The eery familiarity that has made you numb to the loss, even as it threatens to tear you apart each time you let yourself think about her.

It has become a regular passage in the story of your life: meet someone new, learn to love again, and then lose them.

Tears prick your eyes as you settle into the stiff wooden chair in your kitchen. The team has been organizing impromptu get-togethers all month, mostly at the last minute and usually late at night. That's when the loneliness hits the hardest. 

You figure you should be used to it by now. Deep down, you know it's not something anyone ever gets used to, but believing that the pain will abate is easier than realizing it'll always be there, buried in your bones. 

The pain of your mother's death is still a phantom bruise under your skin, always there, but never at the forefront until you press hard enough. Losing Jeff was a whole other monster, hiding under your bed and within the confines of your mind, ready to pounce the moment you closed your eyes. Haley, on the other hand, was a fresh wound; sometimes, you still aren't sure that the gash has fully closed, but with time it has gotten easier to pretend that things aren't awful all the time.

You wipe a loose tear from your cheek as you check your phone messages and tidy up some of the plates from your table. Aaron came over last night, and you both sat in silence for a long time, until a photo of Emily on your computer brought you to tears again. He held you for hours as you shook in his arms, trying to keep yourself together, but ultimately failing.

The silver lining of his renewed presence in your life doesn't feel as sweet as it should, given the circumstances, but you'll take any win you can get. If nothing else, you missed the feel of his arms around you.

You flinch as the dishes clink together loudly when you set them in the sink, and you watch the water dribble from the faucet for a long time, pretending that all you see isn't her blood.

***

He doesn't know what to do. He wants to be there for you more than anything else in this world, but seeing you break down is like being stabbed all over again, only this time it's his own fault. 

When you called last night, he couldn't stay away. He misses you like he's missing a limb, and even if he wanted to stop himself from seeing you, he knows he couldn't. Your grief has brought you back to him, but it feels wretched, even as he shoves aside his guilt for an evening to comfort you at this low.

He had lost count of the number of work-related things he had kept from Haley when they were married, but he always had the excuse that she didn't need to know. That her life would be better without the knowledge of all the horrors that circled them everyday. 

He doesn't have the same excuse with you. You are well-acquainted with the tragedies that life brings, and if it was up to him, he would spill every secret he has ever hidden, because he loves you, and you're one of the last people in this world who still trusts him, and he's so scared that after this, he'll lose that too. 

But he keeps his mouth shut. And when Garcia invites him to a get-together at your place, he politely declines, because if he knows you all have each other, then he can take one night off from the debilitating guilt he somehow still hasn't learned to shoulder after all these years.

***

"Come on in."

Spencer, Derek, and Penelope shuffle into your house, handing you bottles of wine and bags of assorted snacks, before plopping down on your couch and making themselves at home. They've been over so many times in the last few weeks that you figure it basically is their second home at this point, not that you mind. 

None of you want to be alone, and that's why it works.

"What are we watching tonight?" Derek asks, his voice nonchalant, like it's just another movie night with your colleagues. He always starts the night acting like everything's fine, and it really irked you the first time he came over, until you realized it was a front that he just needed time to shed. "Didn't you say last time that you have the original Jaws DVD?"

"What if we watched The Empire Strike Back?" Spencer asks timidly from under a slew of blankets that Penelope has covered both of them with. His nightly ritual involves suggesting one of his favorite movies, even though it always gets immediately shot down. 

Derek chuffs, snagging some of the blanket from off your lap. "Maybe another night, kid."

"I don't care what we watch," Penelope sighs as she pulls open a bag of popcorn and chucks a handful into her mouth, "as long as it isn't sad." That's her only request. Nothing sad, please. Your nightly ritual is like a practiced dance. Each of you playing your parts, reciting your lines the same way, keeping it familiar. Establishing a routine.

You stand up, taking your cue, and grab a random DVD from your cabinet. Ten minutes later, you're all watching The Empire Strikes Back, and Spencer cracks something that looks like a smile for the first time since before the funeral.

You watch the movie in silence, and when the credits roll, you watch the names scroll over the screen as you muster up the energy to find the remote. When you finally click the TV off, the silence feels suffocating, and you hear Penelope sniffle from next to you.

Throwing your arm around her shoulder, you all squish yourselves together, like the pressure will keep the emotions in. 

After a long pause, Spencer is the first to speak. "It'll get better, right?" 

"It has to," Derek sighs, his chin falling to his chest as he takes in a deep breath. You know him well enough to be able to translate his exasperation into anguish, even as he tries to hide it.

"It will get better." You glance around the couch at your friends - the people who have been here for you through all of it - and nod your head, choosing this moment to really believe it. "It will."

***

It doesn't.

A week later, you are storming into Aaron's apartment after he dropped Jack off to stay with Jess, your words already pouring out even before he can shut the door behind you.

"How could you take the assignment?"

Your tone is laced with malice, but he can still hear the hurt underneath.

"How could you leave us here after everything that happened?"

This time the pain is clearer. Your voice breaks at the end and he steps forward to do something, but you twist your body away.

His hands fall hopelessly back to his sides and he doesn't know how to explain this to you, when he can't even explain it to himself.

"Strauss left your brief in the conference room." Your words are stronger now, and he looks up, his eyes squinting with anticipation. "You've known about this since before the new year."

You're right. He's known about the prospect of this assignment for almost a year, and then after, when it became a real possibility, he still chose not to tell you. Maybe before, he had the excuse that you weren't speaking to him, but after Emily...he doesn't have a leg to stand on.

"Why wouldn't you tell us?" you ask, the anguish coming forward in full force. "We need you here. Jack needs you. I need you."

He needs you too. But he also needs to stop hurting you. And he can't see that happening while he's still here.

"I'm sorry," he whispers softly. I love you, I'm sorry.

You let out a sigh and your shoulders fall, like you've lost all of the fight within you. You look so defeated, and it feels worse than when you were yelling at him. 

You're right here, but you feel so far away, like he's looking at you through tinted glass.

"Fine," you say after a beat. "Call me when you're leaving."

Your shoulder brushes his as you whip past him, and he doesn't muster up the courage to speak again until you're already gone.

***

The call comes soon. Too soon.

You meet him at his apartment, and Jack immediately gives you a hug before latching himself back onto his father. You don't know what Aaron told him, given how you don't even know how long he's going to be gone, but you can't imagine it was helpful to a six year old boy who only understands that his father is leaving for a long time.

"I called Jess to pick him up," Aaron explains in a hushed whisper as Jack runs out to get his shoes, "but she's busy until the afternoon."

"That's okay," you say, crossing your arms in front of you. It's a defensive maneuver that's about all you can muster up right now. "I can drop him off at her house after we get you out of here."

You try to say it lightly, but your tone sharpens at the end, making him flinch. You sigh, an apology in itself, because you're trying so hard to be supportive. You know you're mad at him - no matter how hard you try not to be - but this isn't the time to show your anger.

Jack comes back into the living room, and you usher the young boy out the door as Aaron lugs his duffel bags behind you and out to the car. The drive is mostly silent, and Jack doesn't say a word until you help him out of his carseat and onto the tarmac at the base. 

"I'm gonna miss you, Daddy," he whispers, his little hands reaching up to grab his father's hand. "Come home soon."

Aaron picks him up and squeezes him in a big hug, before setting him back down on the ground. He looks at you then and you shrug, pressing your lips together. "What he said."

"I don't know how long this is going to take," he says, mostly directing his words at Jack, even though he keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Probably a few months though."

A few months. That shouldn't feel as long as it does. 

"Bye buddy," he says then, kneeling down to hug his son again. "Go sit in Y/N's car so I can talk to her about some grown up stuff for a minute."

Jack bounces back to where your car is parked, and you watch him get in before turning back to look at Aaron. There's a resoluteness in his expression that shouldn't surprise you, given how driven he is by his sense of duty, but it still catches you off guard.

"You'll be okay there?" you ask, needing to get that out of the way before the rest of it.

He nods, before inching his hand forward to brush against yours. It's a small gesture, but you're not ready yet.

"I'm still angry," you whisper, pulling your hand back slightly. "I don't want to be, because you're leaving, and I want you to have a clear head out there, but I can't help it."

"It's okay," he says softly, his brow furrowing.

"No," you sigh, shaking your head. Your throat is thickening with the threat of tears and you don't want to cry in front of him now either, but there are too many emotions swirling around your brain to keep any of them straight. "I'm not really mad, okay. I know you're trying to do the right thing, but she's gone, and the team is not okay right now, and I need to find a way to handle it on my own."

I can't do it by myself, you want to say. I'm in love with you and you're making it seem so easy to leave me here to shoulder the burden of everyone's grief.

"I'm sorry," he says again, his voice softer this time. 

You're so much better than me, he thinks as he watches you stand so stoically before him. I love you and I can't bear to see you in pain when I'm part of the reason why.

"It's okay," you repeat after a beat. Then you reach forward and take his hand, like he tried to do earlier. His hand is warm and calloused, and it feels rough against your palm, but it grounds you, tethering you to this moment. "I'll see you when you get back."

He nods, before pulling you forward gently into a hug. Your chin tilts up to sit on his shoulder and he squeezes you to him once before letting you go.

When he lifts his bags and walks toward the loading ramp, Jack leaps out of the car and grabs your hand as you both wave goodbye.

He flashes you both one last smile before waving back and disappearing into the plane.

***

The first month is the easiest. You let the futile anger take over; let yourself pretend that you don't actually miss him. 

Seeing Jack and Jess makes it less painful, and you slowly find yourself spending more time with them than at home. Jess tries to spend time with Jack at Aaron's apartment to help him maintain a stable environment, but with his father gone, it doesn't help you notice the absence less.

"He's not eating as much," Jess mentions to you one night after she puts him to bed and joins you out in the living room. At first, being at his place without him felt intrusive, but you've gotten used to being there. "He was picking at his food all through dinner."

"I noticed that," you agree as you pat the spot beside you on the couch. "I'm sure it's just a picky eating phase. Once he settles back into a routine with you it should be fine."

"With us," she corrects with a small smile. "I need all the help I can get, and I really appreciate you being here so often."

"Oh, honey, of course." You give her forearm a squeeze before grabbing both of your empty glasses from the table and taking them to the sink. "I was worried I was becoming more of a burden on you by being here so much, but I'm glad it's welcome company."

"Always," she says, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. You set the glasses down and turn back to see her staring at the tiny picture frame of her and Haley on her counter. "She always made it look so easy."

You nod, not wanting to interrupt her moment. After a beat, Jess releases a heavy sigh and shakes her head. "She was the perfect mother. If I can be half as good of a caretaker for Jack as she was, I'll know I'm doing something right."

You smile unconsciously, remembering a moment from years ago. "I swear Aaron said the exact same thing once. He was upset about leaving work late again when they first had Jack, and I had to assure him that he wouldn't miss every childhood milestone just because he had to work late once in a while."

He was so terrified of being anything like his father. You tried your best to show him how impossible that was, but those are the kinds of things people have to learn on their own.

Jess looks down, deep in thought, and your phone chimes then with a new message. It's from Derek: Hotch sat phone call, 15 mins

"Jess," you whisper, getting her attention again. "Aaron is scheduled to call us over the satellite phone in a little bit. I'm gonna go into the office to see if I can talk to him. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"

She thinks for a moment before shaking her head. "Just that Jack and I are doing well. And we miss him."

You nod and press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing your coat and driving over to the field office. The sky is dark by the time you arrive, and it feels foreign to walk into an empty bullpen. The team has shrunk so much since he left, and lately it's just been you, Spencer, Derek, Rossi, and Penelope around here.

You knock on Aaron's office door once before stepping inside.

"Sounds good," Derek is saying as you shut the door behind you. "Yeah, keep us updated." He sees you then and beckons you closer before turning back to the phone. "Y/N's here. I'll hand it to her."

You take the phone from him and tentatively press it to your ear. There's a slight buzzing sound and when he says "Hello?", his voice sounds far away.

"Hi," you say softly, turning your back to Derek for some semblance of privacy, but he has already pulled out his phone and started typing something. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," he says, sounding slightly distracted. "It's really busy over here. How are yo- you all doing? Jack and Jessica?"

"They're good," you tell him, hoping he can't hear the tightness in your voice over hearing his for the first time in weeks. "They really miss you. We all do."

"I miss you guys too." 

You hear some muffled voices on the other end of the line, and you jump in with your questions before he gets called away. "Any updates I can ask about? Like when you'll be done."

"Not right now," he says with a sigh. "It's still need-to-know."

"Right," you whisper rigidly, even though it's not fair. He's trying his best, and he's doing what's right, but you keep punishing him. Because of your own feelings, your brain adds at the end. 

"It's protocol," he says, even though you're both well aware of how this works.

"I know," you sigh, your fingers gripping the phone tightly. "I have to go back to Jess's."

"Y/N, wait-" he starts, but you are already handing the phone back to Derek.

He takes it uncertainly, but you just shake your head and exit the office.

***

"Did you watch the other movie I gave you?"

You whip your head around to look at Spencer, who is looking at you intently. You had been staring at Aaron's office door for the better part of the last hour.

You frown apologetically. "Not yet, Spence." He had loaned you his DVD of one of his favorite Star Wars movies, and each time you tried watching it, you were just reminded of the immediate aftermath of losing Emily. "I'll find time soon, though."

"That's okay," he shrugs as you inadvertently glance up at the door again. "I know it isn't everyone's thing. I just thought you seemed to enjoy the one we watched at the movie night."

"I did," you assure him, reaching out to pat his hand. "I promise I just haven't found time yet."

He smiles at you, and you return it before your eyes dart up to Aaron's office door at the sight of movement. A small, unrealistic part of you expects Aaron to emerge, but it's Derek instead. Derek took over his office a month after he left to Pakistan, because the secure line was already set up.

"He has a lot on his plate these days," Spencer says, drawing your attention back. He's watching Derek speak to someone at the top of the stairs, his forehead crinkled with stress.

"We're down quite a few hands," you nod, pursing your lips. "Maybe we can convince Derek to bring JJ back permanently."

Spencer lights up and you can't help but grin too. "We definitely should."

***

The cases start piling up, and you welcome the distraction as the passing months begin to weigh on you. The whole team has been under a lot of pressure from the brass, and Strauss has been hinting at a prolonged assignment in Pakistan that may take up even more of his time.

After a particularly grisly case, you invite Penelope over to unwind with some wine and chatting. It doesn't escape your notice that you're missing half of your usual girls' night attendees, but you keep the wine flowing, and soon you aren't focusing on anything other than the new guy Penelope met at her grocery store.

"He's so sweet," she gushes as she leans over the table to grab another chip. You're both sitting on the floor of your living room, and you reach out hastily to steady her glass as it gets precariously close to spilling over. "And I think it says a lot that he shops at such a high quality grocery store."

"Oh, absolutely," you nod, lifting your own glass in a mock salute. "You can tell a lot about a man by how he eats."

"Tell me about it," she sighs, her words starting to slur. Maybe opening the second bottle was too much. "I once dated a guy who only ate protein bars and steak."

Your face twists in disgust, and you set your glass down, feeling the rush of tipsiness hit you. "That's definitely not a balanced diet."

"I tried to tell him," Penelope says, before her face falls into a sad frown. "I really tried."

"Okay, okay," you say, trying to change the subject as her eyes fill with drunk tears. "Back to the grocery store man."

Her face breaks into a wide smile comically fast and you let out a high laugh. "He's so sweet. He really is just the sweetest guy."

"So I've heard," you grin, taking another sip of wine.

Turns out your last glass was one too many, because an hour later, after sending Penelope off in a cab and clearing away your dishes, you're still feeling the buzz from earlier.

Your face feels comfortably warm and you grab your phone from the counter, with the intention to call Emily, when you suddenly remember-

Your smile falls in an instant and tears are rushing forward before you can clearly form a coherent thought. You drop the phone and rush upstairs to take a hot shower to wind down and calm yourself, but even as the burning water washes over you, you still feel wound tight, like your emotions are trapped inside of you.

She was the first person you would always call after a tipsy night, and now she's gone. 

Everybody's gone.

JJ, Emily, Aaron. Aaron.

A sob chokes out and you press your hand over your mouth, your body caving forward under the billowing steam fogging up the glass. You miss him so much, it's like you're not even yourself anymore. 

You let out another soft sob as the water begins to calm you down, but you can still feel the echoing hollowness inside of you. You wish he was here, holding you, telling you it would all be okay. That you didn't ruin everything by pushing too hard, too fast. That you love him and he loves you, and it can all be perfect again. 

"It'll be okay," his voice whispers from behind you, and suddenly he's there. Not really, but with your eyes closed and your mind still foggy, it almost feels real. "I'm sorry I left. I should've been here."

"You should be," you gasp out as his arms close around you from behind, holding you tightly under the soothing warmth of the water. "You left me."

"I know," he says, his breath tingling the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I'll never leave again. I promise."

"You promise," you whisper, mostly to yourself, as you turn around. His lips glide over your shoulder and up your neck, and suddenly his mouth is on yours.

You gasp as his hands slide down your body, his fingers gently caressing the sides of your breasts as he makes his way to your waist. His lips are so soft against yours and when his tongue runs along the seam of your mouth, you moan loudly, letting him swallow up the sounds.

He feels so real under your hands as you trace the jagged scars along his abdomen, and when his tongue glides down your-

You sit up with a gasp, your head pounding with the beginnings of an oncoming wine hangover. Your sheets are messily strewn around you, and your skin is sticky with sweat, but you can't bring yourself to get up. You take a large gulp of water from the glass on your nightstand and check the time: 3:02 AM.

Falling back with a huff, you run a hand over your face and fruitlessly try to sleep through the rest of the night.

***

Summer brings its own set of struggles.

The heat makes each case feel ten times longer than it already is, and with September fast approaching, Jack gets more and more antsy about starting school for the first time.

"He's been shut in his room all day," Jess sighs over the line as you make yourself coffee with your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. "I think he's sad that he's starting school without either of his parents here."

Your heart breaks as you imagine Jack alone in his room, waiting and wishing for his dad to come back in time for his first day of school. Then an idea pops into your head.

"I think I know what to do."

An hour later, you, Jess, and Jack are waiting in line, under the beating sun, to get into the Smithsonian's zoo. Even tho you can already feel the sweat starting to drip down your back, Jack looks downright giddy, so you take the win.

When you finally get inside, he makes a beeline for the monkey exhibits, and you and Jess meander along behind him, chatting about her new side gig.

"I'm starting the part-time job in the fall," she explains as you stop behind Jack at the front of the chimpanzee enclosure. "It works out with the start of the school year, in case Aaron is gone for a while longer."

"That sounds great," you smile, giving her a small side squeeze. "You deserve something to take your mind off of everything too."

She shrugs, ever the neutral party, before looking at you with a smirk. "I hear there are some changes happening at the BAU as well?"

"Right!" you grin, following Jack to the next exhibit. "JJ was helping out temporarily, but she's officially back on the team. She also mentioned to me that she might be considering enrolling in profiler training so she can be a full-time field agent."

"Good for her," Jess smiles. "Lord knows you guys could use some extra manpower right now."

It's right then that your phone chirps with a text from Derek saying that Aaron is calling in again this afternoon. The urge to speak to him for the first time in weeks tugs at your gut, but then you glance over at Jack, who looks happy for the first time in just as long, and before you know it, you're typing back your response: Not today. Busy with Jack.

***

The next time Aaron calls in, you don't have an excuse. 

You're at work, scribbling out the last few lines of your latest case report, when Derek tries to call you into his office. You haven't spoken to him in over a month, and he's asked for you each time he called, but still you refuse.

"Y/N, come on," Derek chuffs, running a hand over his face. "You know he wants to talk to you. He's by himself over there."

That's what gets you. By himself. As though you aren't alone too. As though you hadn't been completely fucking alone when, over the weekend, you found a pair of socks Emily must have forgotten at your place months ago, and had a full body breakdown on the floor of our foyer. 

Each time you're close to forgetting that he left you here to fend for yourself, it comes back in full force, and right now, you would rather do just about anything other than put on a neutral face and ask him how he's doing over there.

"Next time," you say, hoping the finality comes across in your tone. It must have worked, because although Derek shakes his head disappointedly, he doesn't ask again. 

When you go to Aaron's place after work to see Jack, Jess pulls you aside, a worried look on her face. 

"We spoke to Aaron yesterday," she explains, her arms crossed over her chest. The bureau set up a secure line for them so she and Jack could speak to him periodically. "He seemed to be doing well."

"That's great," you say with a nod, unsure of why she's updating you when she thinks you spoke to him today. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," she says, waving away your concern. "I told him about Jack starting school in a few weeks, and about my new job. Then when I mentioned you - how you've been coming here a lot - he looked really happy that you were involved, but...he sounded off for the rest of the call."

Your shoulders tense up and you try to relax, so as not to give yourself away. "Damn Jess, they should make you a profiler."

She says your name sternly, and you can hear the Haley in her voice. "I'm serious. Have you guys not been speaking?"

"It's okay," you say, shaking your head. "I just need some more time, but I'll talk to him soon."

She twists her lips into a sad frown and you sigh, not knowing what to say, but she beats you to it. "He misses you...and I can tell you miss him."

You don't have an answer that she will want to hear, so you stick with the usual. "I'll talk to him next time."

***

"Do I have to go?"

Jack's bottom lip juts out in a sad pout as you adjust the straps of his little backpack on his shoulders. 

"It's your first day of school, bud!" Jess is trying to sound excited, but you can hear the sadness in her voice too, now that she won't have Jack all hours of the day anymore. "It's an exciting time!"

"You got this, baby," you smile, pressing a loud kiss to the top of his head. "Your dad is so proud of you."

"Your mom would be too," Jess adds with a sad smile. "Now go on in, Jack. I'll be right here waiting for you when the last bell rings."

He considers this for a moment, before nodding. Then he looks at you. "What about you?"

"I have to work," you say softly, matching his pout and making him let out a small giggle. "But you can tell me all about your first day when I see you this weekend, okay?"

"Okay," he nods, before grabbing the straps of his backpack and marching toward the front door.

"There he goes," Jess says wistfully, linking her arm through yours.

You let out a small sigh before shooting her a smile. You love him so much, and you're so glad you get to be here as he grows up, but you're so sad that Haley is gone and he's missing out on this moment. "They grow up so fast."

***

The next time Aaron calls in, you're talking to Dave in his office about his latest cabin trip. He is filling you in on the species of fish that live in the lake behind his place when Derek walks in with the notification that Aaron is on the other end of the line in his office.

Dave nods, saying he'll speak with him at the end, and Derek almost skips over you until you follow him out the door.

"You sure?" he asks as you follow him up the stairs.

You nod, bracing yourself for the guilt as you pick up the sat phone. "Hello?"

"Morgan?" Aaron asks, his voice confused over the line. 

"No," you say, shaking your head even though he can't see you. "It's me."

There's a moment of silence before he clears his throat. "Oh, I'm glad you could come in."

You say something that sounds like "of course" and suddenly he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He hasn't heard from you in weeks, and even though he's probably coming home soon, he's so happy to hear your voice he could cry.

"Jess said you were there for Jack's first day," he says slowly, trying to find his voice. "Thank you for doing that. I know it's a lot before coming into work."

"It's not," you say genuinely, momentarily alleviating all of the anxiety he has been having around missing everything in his son's life. "He's the perfect kid. I'm lucky to be a part of his life."

He closes his eyes, wishing with every fiber of his being that he was there with you right now, and not thousands of miles away. "Thank you."

"Any time."

There's silence for a few moments before your breath stutters. "Do you know when you're coming back?"

His heart cracks at the soft sadness in your voice, but he still isn't allowed to share anything that is strictly need-to-know. "I don't."

Your breath catches in your throat and he hears the quiet sob as it breaks over the line. "I miss you, Aaron."

His fingers grip the phone so tightly he's afraid it may shatter in his hands, but there's nothing else tethering him to his life back home. This metal box is the one thing that is keeping him alive out here, and even though he left home so that he could stop lying to you, he's still doing it.

That's why he swallows thickly and says the one thing he knows isn't a lie: "I miss you too."

***

The team got called into the office for an emergency that no one has explained to any of you, and you take a seat in the briefing room as everyone else files in, matching looks of confusion all around you.

"Anyone know what we're doing here?" Dave asks as he leans back in his chair.

You're about to shrug when a figure walks into the room in a dark blue button down and an unfamiliar scruffy beard.

Your eyes widen and your breath leaves your body as you start to stand up, but then he motions for you all to take a seat, so you sink back down. He glances at everyone in the room before his eyes finally land on you. You can't believe he's here. That he knew he was coming back and still didn't tell you.

"What's going on?" Derek asks, breaking your eye contact with a jolt. "Everything all right?" Aaron ignores him. "Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle."

You don't know why he's bringing this up again but then he continues. "The doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration."

Your heart falls. No, there's no way. "Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for her security." Your teammates break their silence at the same time. 

"She's alive?"

"But we buried her..."

You're still unable to suck in a big enough breath to regain the ability to speak, but then another figure walks in and you suddenly understand what people mean when they say their heart skips a beat.

"Oh my god," Penelope whispers from behind you as your feet unconsciously carry you forward and toward her. Toward Emily.

You pull her into your arms, relishing the feeling of your friend hugging you back after you thought you would never see her again. Her arms squeeze you tightly and you suck in a shuddering breath, trying to calm down your heart rate.

She's alive. Emily's alive. Aaron's back and Emily's alive.

The thoughts ping pong around your brain, fighting for dominance, but another one buried deeper in your mind floats to the surface, refusing to be ignored.

He lied.

TAGLIST:@citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios, @whosmys, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @chronicallybubbly, @shilphy87

(message me to be added!)

[sunrisecaminus]

Heya! Anon here I just discovered you and you're really really good at writing, so hear me out on my request megatron please with human female reader who kidnapped her and became the assistant in the lab she's beautiful and has big brown eyes, black hair olive tanned skin and freckles and she thinks she's ugly or basic but she damn pretty and wears the hoodie to hide l( I'm writing these features BC they're mine,I was bullied since I was a kid and felt insecure about them ,I talked about it with my friends and family at the dinner table and they said it was a lie and I'm beautiful I ended up crying and got confidence for the first time, I know this is a big fat ass request but feel free) I would like it to be comfort and nsfw thank you and take your time:3

Message - I like the idea, but I usually don't like describing specific details/characteristic on the reader, because I want the fics to be for everyone to imagine themselves or whoever they want in the scenario. I still kept the jacket, but I didn't specify the colors. Hopefully it is still a good fic and enjoy :3

Megatron x Human Reader NSFW

Summary - Megatron treats his human pet to make them feel better about themselves even if they think their ugly.

Warnings - NSFW

Type of Fanfic - Hurt/Comfort/NSFW

Being an assistant for Shockwave was pretty weird. Everyday he would have you do something really important, but than next he would just have you clean the floors. You were really good at helping him grab things that is too small, while also finding details he missed (which is very rare he says XD). It was nice to be able to do things around the ship that was useful, but there was one thing keeping you from being the best. Your confidence was so low, it could be down in the earths crater. You always wore a j/c (jacket color) that covered your hair and a bit of your face. You didn't like how you look and your body wasn't any different. You had a few spots on your body that you thought was fine, but other than that, you hated how you looked from head to toe. These bots weren't emotionless creatures, so not only you have to deal with the beauty standards of Earth, but also you need to figure out if you were beautiful on, what the mechs would call, Cybertron. Should you ask? No! Do you know how embarrassing it would be to ask these people? Knockout might be a good person to talk to about it, but he seems like a mean girl and call you ugly, which you don't need to be reminded. Soundwave could be a nice person to talk to, but you always thought he talked shit about people with that quiet aura and mask that covered his face. You were also kind of jealous these mechs had a fashion choice to cover their entire faceplate, you freaking wish humans would do that.

Megatron has grown fond of you, it has been a few weeks when he told you that you were is personal pet. Now you are visited by him for reports which was odd because shockwave did most of the reports. Megs surprisingly was one of the only ones that asked for your opinion on things he doesn't know too much about, and it was nice to be able to listen to him about his past. Being a part of his life would never be boring, and you would honestly like to watch Cybertron be rebuilt and live there. Society has done you so wrong that you wish to start on a new planet and see what happens. You haven't told Megatron any of your thoughts on this, you honestly believe he would hate a human wanting to come and be on their planet. You don't know any of the language or culture, so it would be horrible for a human unless they studied at least one of their languages. It has been a while, but Megatron has taught you a bit of Kaonian which was nice. It sounded like a strong and proud language, which was the exact opposite of you. Everything you repeated in the Kaonian language was hard, because you had to be a bit loud with it and sound more confident then your shy, soft tone of voice. You mess everything up in your mind, Megatron has been a bit disappointed lately and you knew it was because you couldn't say things right and never was able to get the accent down.

Today you had been cleaning Shockwave's tools when you see the clock, showing it was time to head to your bedro-shit they call it birth room. You had to write the terms down a few days ago and it was easy to study on most of them. Grabbing your bag, you head over to Shockwave and told him you were going back to your quarters for the night. He agreed and lets you leave. Today has not been too busy, so it gave you time to think about stuff. It was so hard to get the tiny thoughts out of your head, repeating to you all the negative things you tell yourself. Everyday goes by, increasing your regret on not going to the doctors and getting medication to shut your brain up. Opening the door, you find yourself with the massive room they have for you. You had a ramp that when up to the birth, so you walk up it and set your bag down. It has been so long since you have touched the dirt of your planet, but honestly would you even want to? The horrible things that go on can't be helped by someone like you. No one would care if you just left this planet for good…ok maybe your parents. They are probably worried sick about you, trying to look all over Jasper. You have been trusted by Megatron for you to sneak in the house when they were at work to write them a letter about your ware abouts.

Speaking of Megatron, you hear familiar footsteps walking over to your door as some knocking is heard. "Are you awake, pet?" Megatron was waiting for an answer, which you give by telling him to come in. He opens the door and steps in, closing it behind him. He stands above the birth and watches you put stuff away from your bag. "I was informed by Starscream you have been delaying plans for our next experiment, would you explain yourself?" You stopped what you were doing and thinks about it. The last experiment you heard Shockwave plan was to finally do a health exam on you to see if you can handle G-force without any risks. They have been planning on taking you to places when they finally fix their light speed travel, but it was necessary for you to not be harmed during it because of your usefulness to the faction. The reason you have been delaying Shockwave was because they want you to strip in front of him. Now it wasn't him that made you feel like you couldn't do it…ok it might be a little. You have never done something so inappropriate before and never wanted to show Shockwave or Megatron your figure underneath the baggy clothing. If they realized how gross you were, even more than Megatron thinks humans are, than you would be killed from Megatron not being interested in you anymore. You don't want anyone else to judge you as much as your own brain does, so delaying that check up is the best thing you can do for you and everyone else. You have been thinking for too long and Megatron was getting a bit impatient. "Well? Answer me, human! Or is the silent treatment a way of you telling me you are a traitor?" He sees you react in a scared and frantic way. You cover your face more with your jacket and mumble. "Sorry, I just…don't want-" Your voice was so quiet he asks for you to speak up which made you a little more shaken up about it. "Sorry! I don't want you to look at me!" You put your hands over your face and was ready for him to yell again, but all you got was confusion. "What? That is the whole experiment, you can't stop this from happening." The sigh of stress comes out of your mouth. This big mech doesn't know anything, you can't believe you are going to have to tell him.

"You said it yourself, humans are a very gross species. I am not even good looking in the eyes of my own people. They call me ugly all the time, so I know you would think worse of me once you see my whole body." Megatron loads in his processor what he was hearing. Since he was so big, Megs never really got to take a real good look at your face before. Now he may think Organics are gross, but that's because of their insides. They can pop if he stepped on them and he never wanted to even think about cleaning his pedes of sticky gross organs. He is honestly a bit offended you thought his judgement was going to be the same of tiny little humans. "How dare you compare my processor to a humans brain! I will never know if you are lying about being so hideous unless you show me." You feel his claws start to touch your jacket, which made you tense up a bit before you felt the whole coat being taken away from your body. You are now just wearing a tank top with pants, showing your arms and a bit of your chest. You make a "eep!" noise and tried to grab your jacket again, covering yourself the best you could. Megatron ignores your pleading and observed how you looked. When you tried to cover your face again, his servo grabs you and tightens around your arms so you couldn't move. He stares at your face and presses his thumb against your cheek. This was making you panic, his purple eyes were staring into you like a predator, a hawk ready to just gut you at any movement. He didn't show any disgust, but also wasn't showing he liked what he was looking at. Megatron's emotions were unclear, and you just wanted to run away without wanting to see this ship again. Your plan to go to Cybertron with these mechs were off the table now, you probably won't even make it stepping off the ship's cargo ramp to leave.

Megatron was taking every inch of you in account. What you didn't know was he was loving what he was seeing. The skin, how soft you were, the innocent face. Your body looked cute in his eyes; Your body shape he wished to hold on forever. He mass displaces, having his servo still hold onto your chest. "Don't ever lie to your leader ever again. I don't see anything ugly in this birth right now." You feel one of his digits rub against your chest, making you squeak and moan a little from the nice feeling. He hears your tiny noises, and does it again. His optics dilate a bit, peaking interest by your reaction. He keeps rubbing one of your boobs while slowly taking off your pants and underwear with his free claws. You don't understand why he is giving you such pleasure, and the way he complimented you? You felt a fuzzy feeling in your stomach and lay your head back from the friction he is giving to your chest. Megatron looks at your legs and switches up your position, having his servos grab you by the legs and his digits rubbing against your crotch. You tried your best not to moan, and sees him trying to take off your shirt. Now since your arms are free, your hands stop him and try to cover yourself again. "You try to disobey me?" The second he said that, his digit presses against your crotch a bit more, making you gasp and let go of your shirt. He feels your flower leaking onto his servo and tears off your shirt. Megs leans closure to you and licks down from your lower stomach, all the way up to your neck, sliding in between your boobs. Your hand presses against his face plate as you shakily moan again from the touching, not feeling this before in your life. The love and desire Megatron was feeling right now, he was never going to tell anybody and you better not either or he was going to do worse to you. It lasts for a little while until you cum on his servo, it now dripping all over down on the bed. Your vision was blurry and you felt dazed from the quick interface you just had. Megatron sets you down on the covers and gruff. "You're beautiful, tell me who ever calls you something other than that." Your eyes start to water and smile from such a kind thing he said. Megs will never forget that smile for the rest of his living life.

[bomber-grl]

General Mob dating hcs

Pairing(s): Shigeo Kageyama x Gn!Reader

He’s so cute

And really really awkward, almost painfully so

I mean when he first confesses to you it was done two ways

The first was after being continuously hyped by dimple, reigen, and his brother so he decides to buy a bouquet of flowers and go from there

That or it was all spontaneous and you had accidently confessed to him, it was all overwhelming for him and he almost went to ???

But you quickly comforted him and reassured him of how u really felt (although a downside was having to say the truth of your embarrassing feelings)

You were most likely friends with mob or were similar to Tsubomi

I’ll go with the first route to start

Since the two of you were friends, he probably had never thought of liking you in that way

Until he did

In this scenario you’d have to be an esper along with mob since you’d have to be close enough to work alongside him with reigen

Anyway, because you’re both esters (especially if you’re a powerful one) then he’d feel really connected to you

I mean, you’re one of the few people who could possibly understand how he feels

If you’re one of the popular kids and are constantly getting love letters then he’d look at you from afar

He really admires and likes you so once you guys get together in this scenario he’s more than pumped and obviously ends up telling anyone he can

More into the relationship hcs-

He’s really cute, which is more than obvious

He’s pretty awkward and if you’d wanna ask him anything you’ll have to give him a few seconds before he manages to say anything

He’s pretty slow on hand holding too

If you were to ever hold his hand he’d have to let go instantly before his powers make it a negative memory

He’ll even go to reigen and his brother for help with gifts and advice too

(Yknow, after reigens character development)

A specific scenario would be like for Valentine’s Day or just to gift you something

He decides to go to reigen then his brother, and even tome

He’d ultimately decide to get you a little basket full with your fav snacks and even a little bouquet

When it comes to finally giving it you he gets so flustered 😭

He gives them to you despite his nervousness and when you decide to hug or give him a kiss on the cheek-

He nearly explodes on the spot

Mob exe has stopped working

Please just give him some space afterwards 😭

(He severely needs it)

If you ever gift him anything back like this, or even milk from the vending machine at school-

He’ll definitely fluster and even thank you formally 😭

You’ll have to tell him to stop because people are staring but also because the two of you are literally dating

When you first hug him he’s so stiff

He’s just stiff in your arms and when he returns it, he just snuggles into your neck to try and hide his face from passerby’s

When you start being more open about your relationship and start openly holding hands the body improvement club/ telepathy club really congratulate him

+ tome just getting mad at mob for not letting her know of your relationship sooner

And just the rest are shenanigans of her trying to convince you to join the club

If you guys were to ever have a sleepover it’s most definitely at your house

Ain’t no way it’s gonna be at his

Anyway, you’ll probably watch a movie and when you feel mob lean on you you decide to just lay him down and go to bed which ends in the two of you cuddling

Of course dimple had to be there for “supervision “ he says

But anyway when you decide to hold mob in your arms you feel him moving and starts mumbling incoherently

Then he gets up abruptly and totally freaks out when he realizes how close you two were

He gets teased endlessly by dimple 😭

Now, speaking of ritsu

He’s really supportive of mobs relationship with you, he was just a lil worried about the confession if he’s gonna be real

He was more worried that you wouldn’t like mob back and even worse, how he’d react

So when the two of you start going out he’s really happy for his older brother

And surprisingly, he thinks good of you before you even meet

(Surprisingly because of how emo he is)

If you ever get in a situation where you can’t defend yourself then he’ll definitely be there

He’d go “???” And go absolute ham on whoever hurt you

He gets seriously upset that he became that way infront of you and needs serious reassurance from you

Eventually you’re introduced to ritsu and it’s goes as best as it could

It’s pretty awkward but atleast ritsu thinks ur good enough lmao

Of course he eventually becomes more open

Especially with his emotions

But things between you, things stay pretty much the same

[hugsandchaos]

Okay, so @breannasfluff has brought Winged LU to my attention once again, and now you’re all doomed to listen to me talk about Danny being roped into that situation because I’m obsessed with both of them. There’s Scenario A, B, and C, and I’m talking about all of them. I’ll probably update this with reblogs or just edit it every time I come up with something new.

Scenario A

Scenario A is where Danny’s universe also has wings. I don’t have much to say about this one, but I hope you like what little headcanons you guys like about it.

First of all, I really like the idea of Danny’s wings being crow wings. Specifically the american crow or fisher crow. The reasons why are classic symbolism, and I also really like crows. That’s pretty much it. Not sure if I’d accept criticism on this. And yes, his feathers are white in ghost form.

Second, flying is much easier in ghost form because his core can help him fly without using his wings, and he can also do tight turns and the like much easier. He can still use his wings for a boost of speed if he was frantic or just for the comfort of the familiar motions, but it’s not completely necessarily.

Moving onto the Links, he’s pretty much the same as Danny without wings with a few exceptions. He doesn’t let the group touch him and gets nervous when they get too close because of past experiences at first, but once he comes to trust them, he’ll let them touch him and probably let them preen the feathers he can’t reach. He’ll rant on and on about space, and he loves answering their questions!

Like crows, I like to think that this Danny does have a secret liking for shiny objects that he hides out of embarrassment, but he’s also a little picky about them. Some shiny objects are okay, some won’t do, some are pretty good, but the best ones are the ones that remind him of space. This Danny especially likes blue sandstone since they look like stars.

Example ⬇️

If the Links were to give him anything that reminded him of space like that, or maybe even something directly related to or about space like a star map or something, he’d be super happy. And like crows, he randomly brings them shiny objects. Funny enough, he did this in a dungeon once and presented Hyrule with the key they were looking for and a red crystal.

Scenario B

Scenario B is if Danny only gets his wings after he switches to the Links’ timelines.

Simply put, he freaks out.

Why does he have these wings? What’s with these new instincts? How does he use these wings? Why are they still there in his ghost form?! Why do they feel so dirty and grimy?! How is he supposed to clean them?! What is going on?!

I’m thinking him freaking out actually caused the Links to approach him after they noticed him sitting on the ground hugging himself all alone. This can go three ways, two of them aren’t exactly good.

1.) Danny freaks out even more and runs away from them, which only gets him hurt. They catch him and do their best to help without pushing the obviously deeply troubled kid past his limits.

2.) In a fit of panic, frustration, and confusion, he acts on his first instinct and tackles the closest one, shouting “You did this to me” when some unconscious part of his mind told him since they have wings, they must be the cause. He gets knocked out because he was planning to actually hurt them, and they have a talk when he wakes up.

3.) Danny struggles to decide if he should fight or run, but they manage to calm him down and talk about it before anything bad can happen.

Whatever the case, the gang ends up teaching him how to fly and preen, and help him understand his new instincts. At first, he was very hesitant about it, which was understandable. As much as they doubted they could imagine a life without wings, this kid has clearly lived it and is completely new to this and needs help, and by the goddesses, they were going to give it to him.

I like to think that Danny either isn’t scared of the members who are raptors at all, or he has that small, nagging fear and tries his best to ignore it.

At first, he was embarrassed and nervous about being judged to indulge in the crow instincts like the chain does with their bird side thanks to years of bullying taking the form of an internal voice talking down to him, but he slowly starts to watch them trade and eventually join them! These guys are completely okay with it and even encourage him to try.

Scenario C

Scenario C involves Danny not having wings before or after he ends up with the Chain. He doesn’t have any at all, period.

This really worries the group. If Danny can’t fly, how is he going to keep up with them? How does he escape if there’s no other way but up?

Danny waits a bit to tell them about his ghost half, until they need to take off and he overhears them discussing how to bring Danny with them. It’s a little odd for them to see him flying the way he does, but he’s completely chill about it. Some might probably also ask him if he’s tired at random times because they have no clue how exhausting flying is for him, but he’s okay.

Now for the “smaller details” that I really like!

Danny doesn’t preen feathers, trade trinkets, call, or feel any “bird” instincts. Because of this, they might think of him as odd, but it also goes both ways. They have a mutual understanding that they’re different, and a lot of the things the other does is understandable because of what they have while the other doesn’t, but they’re still a bit surprised at first.

Danny can definitely help with preening, though. They try to do something similar with his hair as a way to try to return the affection, but he sometimes refuses and fixes his hair. Watching them trade is a silly little way to pass the time, and he might even offer something out of boredom. He declined any offered bugs, though, since humans don’t eat bugs.

Another thing is that he’s not scared of any raptor members while not risking scaring the non-raptors because he’s neither. Danny doesn’t feel any instinctive fear based off their bird half. I think this might bring a little bit of relief to any raptor members who were worried they might accidentally scare him.