#every day at my job I understand it more and more

[immoral-stranger]

𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮) // 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟖. 🧣 “I wanna be alone. Alone with you, does that make sense?” – Billie Eilish, Hostage.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: General depression, anxiety, and sadness, nothing too specific. No she/her pronouns used so maybe afab or gn reader, but I mention them wearing a bra and putting their hair up. Non-sexual nudity.

A/N: Sometimes you need to let yourself be sad for things to become better. Dedicated to all my depressed homies, hope you're doing okay ♡

Oscar could sense it the second he stepped inside the flat and locked the door behind him. No music playing. No background noise from the TV airing your favourite show. The stillness felt like a vacuum, unsettling in its stark contrast to the usual atmosphere. If he didn’t know you so well, he might’ve thought you weren’t home. But the telltale signs of your presence were undeniable—your shoes neatly placed in the entryway, your coat on its designated hook, and your bag resting on the floor—all painting the domestic picture of two people sharing a home. 

He usually loved coming home at the end of a long day. Even more so when he was away for weeks on end, racing around the world. The flat was modest and cosy, rather than the luxury Monaco seemed to be covered in. It was a testament to the both of you—to your love of vibrant patterns and Oscar’s preference for muted hues. Oscar had made places all around the world his place of living, but he had never felt as at home as he did in the place he now shared with you. 

Yet, tonight it felt hollow. Oscar stood in the entryway for a long moment, adjusting to the surprising quietness. He dropped his keys into the ceramic dish by the door, the clink echoing unnaturally in the silence.

You were home. Oscar knew it. But your silence was deafening. 

Oscar was the opposite of you in many ways—he spoke in measured tones, listened to music through headphones instead of speakers, and navigated social events with an easygoing detachment. He was content in the background. 

You were loud, not in an obnoxious or annoying way, but in the sense that you could always be heard. It was one of the things Oscar had grown to love most about you. You would hum along to songs even if you didn’t know them. You’d laugh so loud and genuinely that tears would run down your cheeks and your stomach would cramp, making strangers turn their heads. You were the light of every party, for everyone to see and enjoy, and it didn’t even look like you were trying. The most bittersweet pain Oscar knew was how his jaw would hurt from smiling at you, whatever it was you were doing. 

That was why your silence was deafening to him and quite telling. It wasn’t the absence of noise; it was the absence of you.

In the beginning, you had tried to hide it from him, saying that you had other plans when he asked to hang out or saying that you were sick and didn’t want him to catch it too, since his job was so important and you didn’t want that on your conscience.

But you never did have plans, and you weren’t sick. At least not in a contagious way. 

Oscar sensed it even then, though he didn’t understand the full scope until you moved in together, when you no longer could hide or lie your way through it. You got sad. That was the simple explanation. You carried the world on your shoulders—of expectations, of ambition, of other people’s happiness—so when it inevitably spilled over, you got sad. 

The kind of sadness that couldn’t be explained or easily understood by others. The kind that showed through your eyes and your actions, dulling your light and silencing your words. Your silence meant sadness, and Oscar hated the way it hollowed out the vibrant person he adored.

Kicking off his own shoes and throwing his belongings on the ground, Oscar then made his way to where he knew you would be, your shared bedroom. The door was ajar, and he paused briefly, his hand resting on the doorframe. Inside, the room was dim, the curtains drawn closed. He could just about make out the shape of you, curled up on the bed. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle. 

You didn’t answer. Silence, that was all that existed. 

The sheets were a crumpled cocoon of fabric, but no warmth reached you, like a black hole swallowed any light that seeped through the curtains. You’d had one of those days when even breathing felt like a monumental task, each inhale a reminder of the weight pressing on your chest.

“Can I come in?” 

You remained a dark blob of a body, tangled in the mess of wrinkled white bed sheets, red-eyed and weary. You didn’t have the energy to say yes, but you didn’t need to. He understood.

Quietly, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, sealing out the rest of the world. He crossed the floor with deliberate care, as though afraid a sudden movement might shatter you entirely. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he let his presence speak where words couldn’t.

When you still didn’t react, Oscar did the only thing he could think of doing—he crawled into bed next to you, not saying another word. The mattress dipped under his weight, and the warmth of his body gradually reached through the layers of cold that clung to you.

The quiet felt less oppressive, softened by his steady breathing and the faint creak of the bed frame as he settled in. You didn’t move, but you showed no complaints when he wrapped his arms around you, letting you rest upon his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear a constant rhythm. 

After what felt like an eternity, you spoke. “I’m okay.” 

Oscar tilted his head toward you, his brow furrowed but his expression still gentle. “No, you’re not. But that’s okay.” 

You swallowed hard, the knot in your throat loosening just slightly. He always had a way of seeing right through the lies you told yourself. You let out a shaky breath, the calming kind to stop tears from falling. 

“Rough day?” he asked. 

“Rough life,” you mumbled. Your eyes stayed fixed on a spot somewhere in the distance, far beyond the four walls of the room. “I should just pull myself together, but I don’t know how. I just turn into such a fucking bother.” 

Oscar shifted, tensing up as his hand reached out to lightly brush your hair back from your face. “Hey,” he said firmly, but not unkindly. “Don’t hide from me. You could never bother me. I want to help and care for you.””

“You shouldn’t have to.” Your voice cracked, and you closed your eyes tightly, a tear slipping out and disappearing into a wet spot on Oscar’s t-shirt. “I should be able to do it myself.”

Oscar let the silence stretch between you for a moment, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your shoulder. “Maybe,” he said at last. “Maybe one day you’ll feel like you can do it yourself. But right now, you don’t have to do it alone. Right now, I’m here for you.”

You didn’t answer. Not that you had to. It wasn’t the easiest of things to talk about, or accept the fact that people around you were kind enough to be supportive. Not all people, but Oscar at least. There was a shame connected to it—of how certain adults just kept on going without stopping and how you had never managed to belong to that group. You still felt like a teenager thrown into a life with responsibilities and expectations far beyond what was possible. 

Accepting weakness, or showing the need for help, never came naturally, but almost always forcefully—when the leaking crack that was your life finally had overflowed the bucket that stood beneath it, catching droplets. 

It was the kind of thing you could overthink into oblivion. What your own personal failures would cost the people around you. How it would affect them in ways you couldn’t directly see. And if this would change their opinion of you, that you really were such a fucking bother. 

Oscar watched you zone out completely, like you’d gone somewhere else momentarily, so far lost in your own thoughts that you weren’t present in the room with him. He brought you out of it with a gentle caress of your cheek, wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb and cradling your jaw to make you look at him. 

“I’m sorry that this ruins your plans,” you said slowly. 

He had forgotten about his plans the moment he got home and could sense your silence. It was some opening of some exhibition that one of McLaren’s sponsors was putting on. It said quite a lot about his feelings about going in the first place—that you were the one to remind him of it and that he probably would’ve forgotten it otherwise. There was no way in hell that he would be going now, to a place where he would be bored out of his mind, when you were at home in this state. 

Oscar lightly shook his head at the thought. “Don’t even think of that. You are my plans now.”

And while it should’ve made you feel chosen and cared for, it also showed the sacrifices he was making just to be with you when you weren’t strong enough to be on your own. 

“Do you want to talk more about why you feel this way?” Oscar’s voice was soft, careful not to disrupt the fragile peace that seemed to linger in the room. He didn’t want to push too hard, but he couldn’t help wanting to reach the parts of you that felt unreachable. “We can talk now, or later, or… not at all if you don’t want to. I just want you to know I’m here to listen.”

You hesitated, your lips parting as though you wanted to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you shifted slightly, curling closer into his chest. You shook your head slightly. “I just… wanna be alone,” you exhaled loudly. “Alone with you, does that make sense?”

“It does,” Oscar replied. “It makes perfect sense.” 

He felt the same in many ways. Whilst your feeling of needing to be alone came from a point of exhaustion, his probably came from introversion. Whatever it stemmed from, it was necessary at times to just be in the place where you felt most comfortable and not question it further. 

“You wanna take a nap and then order some food?” he asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, trying to bring a bit of normalcy to the moment.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Can we watch a movie too?” 

“Whatever you want,” he agreed, placing a light kiss on your forehead before he shifted, propping himself up slightly. “Come on, let’s get you changed.” 

“Oscar…” you protested weakly.

He stood up from the bed, carefully when placing the comforter back down to not disturb you. With swift movements, like he’d done it times and times before, he picked out your favourite hoodie of his and a pair of pyjama pants that had probably belonged to him too at some point but were now mainly worn by you. 

“I’ve seen you naked a million times before, and I know you can’t sleep in slacks and a button-up,” he explained with a small smile, standing by the side of the bed, a hand reached out for you to grab. 

Reluctantly, you let him help you sit up. Business casual attire wasn’t meant for sleeping. 

Oscar’s movements were gentle, each touch soft and unhurried. He reached for the first button of your shirt, his fingers brushing lightly against your stomach as he worked his way down. Once the shirt slipped off your shoulders, he set it aside carefully to not wrinkle it further. 

“Arms up,” he murmured softly. You obeyed, letting his arms reach around your body to unclasp your bra, pulling it off your chest. His touch was respectful and tender—a way nudity never used to feel like. He then pulled the hoodie over your head, the soft fabric settling around you like a hug.

He reached for the zipper of your trousers, pausing to meet your eyes for permission. You gave him a small nod, and he eased them off, replacing them with the pajama pants he had set aside, tying the drawstring at your waist. The process was intimate in its simplicity. 

When Oscar finished, he reached for a silk scrunchie from the bedside table. You kept them everywhere, to the point where he had one in his bedside drawer. “Let me,” he said softly, gathering your hair with careful hands. He smoothed it back, twisting it into a loose bun that kept it out of your face.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch into the faintest smile. “You’re good at this,” you murmured.

“Because I know you,” Oscar replied with a soft chuckle. “You’re all set now.”

You fell back on the bed somewhat dramatically, letting the covers puff up around you. Oscar got back in next to you, tucking the both of you in, in a cocoon of warmth. His arms cradled your body, his lips lingering briefly in a kiss against your clothed shoulder. “Now, we sleep.”

. . . 

Later, the two of you lay on the couch, a blanket draped over you as the warm glow of the TV illuminated the room. Toy Story played softly in the background, its familiar characters offering a gentle distraction. It was a comfort film, something easy, something that didn’t demand too much from you.

Oscar held you close, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. One of his hands had found its way under the hoodie you were wearing, his fingertips drawing lazy, soothing circles against your back. 

As Buzz Lightyear declared his mission to infinity and beyond, you turned your head slightly to glance at Oscar, your chin resting on his sternum. His face was relaxed, his attention split between the movie and you. It struck you then, how content he seemed just to be here, with you, even after the long day he must have had.

“I love you, no matter what. You know that, right?” he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the hum of the TV.

Your heart clenched, but not in the way it had all day. This was different. It was from the sheer weight of feeling understood and accepted.

“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft. You scooted upward to kiss him gently, mumbling out words between touches. “To infinity and beyond.” 

Oscar chuckled, a sound that warmed the coldest of places. “Cheesy,” he teased lightly, but his eyes told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You leaned into him, feeling lighter than you had all day. And as Buzz and Woody’s adventures continued to unfold on the screen, you felt okay. Not entirely, not permanently, but enough to hold onto for now. Enough to gather courage to work through these emotions bit by bit as time went on. 

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think ♡

౨ৎ [ main masterlist . taglist . other love letters ]

Taglist: @koko-mei @anamiad00msday @floweringanna @lucyysthings @yelenam5 @firefirevampire @alexxavicry @emails-i-can-send @freyathehuntress

[honeyshiddendesire]

Office Secrets

Chapter One: Wine Spills and Bright Ideas

Summary: You hated office parties but when your boss personally invites you then the fun and long list of secrets begin. 

Characters: CEO! Trafalgar Law x EMPLOYEE! Reader

Warnings: 18+ !! flirting! Law catches reader in undies! Mentions of masturbation and sex! Reader can’t stand her coworkers! FEMALE reader! 

Masterlist

You were the employee who kept to herself, you ate alone, kept the small talk, if any, to a minimum, hell you even skipped out on all the office parties. You tried to stay low on everybody’s radar because despite working in the same office for a number of years you didn’t want these people to be anything more than just coworkers. Friends? In the workplace? Yeah you’d rather smash your own head in then have these people know anything about you. You only needed this place for the big ass checks and you wanted to keep it that way. So for years you avoided every party that went on in your office, that was until your boss personally asked. 

You never spoke to him up close, his assistant Bepo, was always the one that handled things around the office most of the time so it shocked you when on your way out one day that he called your name. 

“Excuse me Y/N.” His deep voice made you freeze, the hair on your neck standing up as you slowly turned around. Your brain racing in different theories of why he would call your name, the fact that he even knew it made you nauseous. “Uh…yes sir. How can I help you?” You reply as you adjust your glasses to look up at him. 

“The party tonight.” He says simply not continuing and you just raise a brow. You watch his tattooed hands go to adjust his black tie and it makes your heart skip a beat, you never seen them so up close before. The word D E A T H  was on his fingers in black ink along with a weird symbol but you didn’t want him to catch you staring for too long or he might notice the drool coming out of your mouth. 

Ugh do men even understand how hot the tie thing is let alone adding some tattoos into the mix or maybe they do it on purpose as a trap. 

“Yes?” Your tone was an obvious question that made him give a small smirk. “I noticed they’re not your cup of tea but…” He pauses to look around, as if he was making sure the both of you were alone before he leaned down a bit toward you, his voice lower as he spoke again. “I would love to see you there.” You really didn’t want to go but with a man as handsome as him leaning down into your personal space with that charming smirk of his, the strong powerful scent of his cologne invading your nose, who were you to refuse. 

That’s how you found yourself currently standing in front of the mirror contemplating your choice in attire, almost regretting never going to one of these parties cause you had no idea what to wear. You wore a long loose blue sweater dress, blacked heeled boots with your hair slicked back into a ponytail. You could’ve cinched your waist with a belt but clothes showing off your curves wasn’t much of your speed, instead you left the sexy for underneath. You had quite the guilty pleasure when it comes to all things lingerie, you always took out some of each check just to splurge on a couple nice sets. No one ever got to see them but whenever you were feeling anxious about going to certain events you gave yourself a nice confidence boost with some pretty pieces underneath. 

So taking a deep breath you said fuck it and grabbed your purse, you were already running late so there was no point in changing now that you were already dressed. It wasn’t long to get to your job, that was always a plus in your eyes. Sighing as you parked into your usual spot, you rolled your eyes at the fact that your smoking hot boss was able to sway your decision so quickly. Why the hell did he even want you there so bad? 

“Fuck my life.” You mumble as you get out of your car and head into your office, glad that you at least were by yourself for a short moment on the elevator ride up. The sound of awful music playing loudly along with chatter among all your coworkers was heard the second the doors opened up making you mentally groan. You walked out with your eyes glancing around to spot a drink or something to wash down your growing nausea that this damn party was causing. You found the table that was full of soft drinks and food but none of it caught your eye like the bottle of moscato that was almost empty. Pouring the rest of the moscato it barely filled your glass which made you frown until you heard that same unmistakable voice speak to you.

“I’m sorry I should’ve brought more, I didn’t realize there was someone else who enjoyed moscato like I do.” Your boss observed with a tone of amusement from behind you that made you look in his direction. “Oh sir, it's not a problem at all.” You smile politely as you stare into those charming stormy grey eyes of his. 

“I’m glad to see you here.” Your boss smirked at your shocked expression and the way you fidgeted with your glass in your hands. “Thank you sir.”  You never had an issue with staring people in the eyes until your boss started speaking to you. One of his slender tattooed hands went up to run his fingers back in his hair, your eyes unable to look away from him, the glint of his gold earrings shining brightly making you wonder how they moved when he was railing someone in bed. Specifically you- but you were way too shy to ever make the first move when it came to that sort of thing. 

“You look beautiful.” He says as you take a sip of your wine nearly making you choke on the beverage. You miss how he licks his lips as you go to reach for a napkin to wipe your face, his mind racing with ravenous thoughts of you. “Sorry- thank you sir.” You mumble out awkwardly as you throw out the napkin in the can beside you. “So I have to ask…What usually happens at these office parties anyways?” 

You smile when you notice his grey eyes roll like beautiful storm clouds as he lets out a sigh, “Nothing besides me dying of boredom.” His voice whispered as he scanned the room and his admittance made your heart race with excitement. “Ah~ so I’m not the only one who hates these things.” You joke and he only nods. 

“The difference between you and me is that I have to attend. My father always said it was good for business if the owner shows a different side of himself to his employees.” Your boss tells you, his tone irritated but still holding amusement which made you laugh. Leaning over a bit to keep the conversation just between the two of you, “Okay so tell me why I had to come here if I’m not the CEO like you.” Your boss only chuckles as he once again gets closer. 

“Because if I had to suffer alone one more time at these stupid parties I’ll end up on the news.” His joke makes you laugh louder than you expect which catches the eyes of some of your female coworkers who instantly give you dirty looks when they notice the hot boss talking with you. “Oh my god seriously? I’m just your insurance policy so you don’t burn the place down huh?” You joke back and he nods his head, a smirk on his face as he looks down at you. “Keep that between us okay? Shh people are coming over.” He says making you frown as you turn your head to spot the office birds flying over. 

“Oh my goodness Y/N I never thought I’d live to see the day you actually attend something.” The woman known as Sharon says, ugh that woman’s god forsaken voice could make paint peel in a second. “So anyways what’s so funny. I love a good joke.” 

“Wasn’t anything worth repeating.” Your boss says making you inwardly cheer at your shared secret. “How are you enjoying yourself Sharon?” He asks and you can’t help but notice how his body tenses up, his voice losing the amusement that he showed you just moments ago. 

“I’m having a great time Mr. Law, I just love~ how you always attend.” She tells him and his mouth goes in a tight line, a vein in his forehead threatening to pop at her comment. “Well it is my office. Can’t leave you all to yourselves now can I.” Sharon must have thought he was trying to be funny because she laughs like a mad woman, her arm going out to slap yours and in the process knocking her glass of wine all over you. Red fucking wine might I add. 

“Fuck!” You say out of pure natural reaction feeling the cold wine soak your whole front. 

“Goodness I’m so sorry I’m such a clutz sometimes. You should really go take care of that, you don’t want to ruin that fun sweater you’re wearing.” Sharon says with a sassy tone, the use of the word fun clearly a jab at your attire. 

Fucking bitch, you found yourself thinking but unfortunately you just had to smile. “Yeah I’ll go do that no problem. You should probably take it easy though or everyone might get the impression that you’re a messy drunk.” You bite out with a fake smile as you head to the ladies room, missing the way your boss has to hold in his laugh at your remark. You instantly flooded Law’s thoughts the second you walked away, the woman yapping away in front of him but he couldn’t care less. From behind him he heard some other females talking about how annoying they thought you were, or how you thought you were too good to ever attend these sorts of things and that you deserved Sharon’s wine all over you.  It was Sharon making a joke about you that had his thoughts stop in their tracks. 

“Excuse me?” Law said, making Sharon halt her words with wide eyes. “Sir I was just joking, it’s just harmless hazing. It was only a little bit of wine.” Law’s breath came out sharp as his eyes lowered into a glare that made her blood run cold. “I didn’t realize I hired someone so disrespectful in my company.” He snaps as his fists ball up in his pockets, his eyes watching you go down the hallway towards the bathrooms in the back. 

Heading into the bathroom you peel off your dress angrily shoving it into the sink and under some cold water. That bitch must’ve just poured herself a full glass since there was so much on the front of your dress. You just bought the damn thing and you highly doubt that it would be fixed, “Dammit.” You used your nails to scrub against the fabric completely stopping when you heard the door, which you thought you locked, suddenly open. 

“Y/N I wanted to ask-oh uh.” Law, your boss immediately paused as he saw you bent over the sink with your dress off trying to get the wine stain out. He knew you would be trying to get it out; he just never expected you to take the whole dress off leaving you in that lacy embroidery you were currently wearing. His eyes were unable to look away at the different color flowers that did nothing to hide your nipples and your pussy, he could tell the lingerie was for sex appeal definitely not for coverage. The garter on your mid section connected to leg rings that squished your soft thighs and suddenly he was never more jealous of a piece of fabric in his life like he was now.  

“Sir!” You shouted his name like three times till your voice had to get louder, his beautiful grays finally looking back up at you in shock. “This is a lawsuit, you know.” You say to him putting a hand on your hip, no point covering up since he already got a good eyeful of all your special bits. “Shit! Shit - I’m sorry, you’re right.” He panics but for some reason his body won’t seem to turn away, his eyes dropping down to look at you over one more time. A curse coming out of his mouth in a raspy breath that made you smirk as you called out to him again. His body finally cooperates as he turns to face the door but doesn’t leave, his face heating as his brain recalls everything over at superspeed. “I had to ask you a question but- are the women here usually so catty with you?” 

Law’s question had your brows raise before your face dropped into a frown, your hands going to shut off the water with a sigh. “Yeah but I don’t give a fuck. They try to see who can get under my skin but all this place is to me is a fat ass check.”

“I see.” Law says making you mumble a ‘sorry’ but he only chuckles, “Why be sorry I should be the one to apologize? I can understand now why you hate these things.” You throw on your dress after you ring it out as best as you can but still some of the wine remains. You walk towards the man, the sound of your heels making Law stand up taller at the sound.

 “So Mr. Law you let me in on your little secret of hating office parties so maybe we can add this ordeal onto the growing list huh?” You joke as you go to step in front of him, leaning in close, his tanned cheeks heating up as you smile at him. “Sorry again. It seems like I owe you a raise.” 

“HA! If that’s your way of trying not to get me to sue for sexual harassment then it’s a deal but-I’m still heading home. I enjoyed our banter though  sir. I must say I’m shocked you noticed me despite my skills at trying to stay off the radar.” You say as he opens the bathroom door for you, both walking down the hallway back toward the office. “Actually it’s because you try so hard to remain unnoticed that I noticed you.” He smirks and it makes you fidget a bit as he stares down at you. “Oh I see nothing gets by you then. I’ll see you next week sir.” He just nods and you turn quickly to grab your purse off your desk and head out of this dreadful place, your boss’ eyes staring you down as you walk away. 

The image of you in that beautiful lace was making his body hot, and if he so happened to think about you in it while he fisted his cock between his hands later on then that was his business. It’s not like you needed to know that as he laid in bed that whole weekend that the thoughts of you only grew stronger, or that he pictured what would’ve happened if he bent you over the bathroom sink. The filthy thought of just coming up behind you to push those lacy panties to the side as he shoved his long cock into your dripping pussy made him groan into his elbow. Thinking of one of his tattooed hands having to cover your mouth that would hopefully spill out lustful moans, picturing himself having to look over your shoulder to stare at your fucked out expression in the bathroom mirror. The way you’d moan out for him as he shoves a few fingers into your drooling mouth as he runs kisses along your neck with his hips moving at a rushed pace so neither of you would get caught. 

“Fuck-” Law finally groaned deeply as he came all over his black silk sheets, rolling his eyes at having to change them now but the carnal desires were just to powerful. The whole weekend was tortuous for him and here he was at 5 in the morning on a Monday needing a shower before work. At this rate he’ll be running late to his own business because of you and that only made him want to see you more. Dressing in his nicest all black suit he headed to the office the thought of you still plagued his mind. Now as he drove his fancy sports car he started to picture you riding him in the backseat making the tinted windows all steamy.  

“Fuck my life.” Law grumbles as he heads up the elevator, shock washing over him as he noticed you were the first one there. That was rare, usually you showed right on time so you wouldn’t be spotted. “Y/N I see you’re here early.” 

The sound of your boss making you go still, your cheeks growing warm as your brain replayed all the dirty fantasies that you came up with over the weekend. Turning in your desk chair you looked at him walking over toward you, that same amused smirk on his face just like at the office party. “Sorry sir, I hope that’s alright. I realized after going home that I still had something to add to my pitch for the meeting later.” Your honesty made Law groan as he ran a hand over his face. “Shit I might have to make you my second assistant because I forgot all about that.” He groaned as he leaned against your desk and you couldn’t help but smile at him being so relaxed whenever he was around you. Law always made sure to look so polished and strict around everyone but here he was letting his walls down with you for some reason.

“It must be rough with Bepo on vacation. He seems good at his job.” You say as you cross your legs, sitting back in your chair. You weren’t the most flirtatious woman around but there was no way you could miss the way Law’s eyes immediately dropped to your legs. His stormy eyes following up from your sexy stilettos all the way to the hem of your skirt, swallowing the lump that he suddenly felt in his throat. He couldn’t help but wonder if you had on another lingerie set, hidden from view and man was it getting hard to breath all of a sudden.

 “Mr. Law if you keep staring at me like that then people will think I earned that raise in some unsavory ways.” You smiled as you noticed his eyes snap up to your face. 

“Yes…that would be quite -unfortunate wouldn’t it.” He comes to mess with his tie as he licks his lips before giving you that damn smirk of his. “I guess if those unsavory things were to happen we’ll just have to add it to our list of little secrets don’t you think.” His words had your whole bravado shattered just as you thought you had him where you wanted him, he proved that he was a man always with a plan. Hearing the elevator ding Law stood up from your desk just before the door opened, saving the both of you from prying eyes. 

“Good morning Mr. Law.” The birds squealed out happily making him wave a hand, “Morning ladies.” Giving them a small wave and nod he turned to you giving you a charming wink before heading to his office across from you. You watched the man stroll to his office with his earlier statement in the forefront of your brain. Did he want to fuck me? Your face warm with the thought of him bending you over his desk made you take a deep breath to settle yourself. 

Hours passed before it was time for the meeting where you would be making your first big pitch. The project was a banquet to raise money for children who don’t know what it is to celebrate their birthdays because they don’t have the money that would allow them to do so.  Since it was the company's 30th anniversary coming up you thought it was the perfect time to finally speak your mind and throw in some ideas of your own. Instead of the company getting the gifts you figured it would be nice to give back you just hoped your boss would think so as well. 

Gathering your stuff you head into the meeting room, your anxiety growing and bringing the nauseous you tend to feel with it. This would be the first time you ever stood up in front of these fuckers and you were not happy about it, you wish you could just come up with the idea and tell him privately but nope. Every month there would be this project meeting where everyone would lay out their ideas at that moment. Now knowing that he dislikes these people coming to him all the time though it made sense, one meeting every month was better instead of everyone popping into his office all hours of the day. 

“Okay everyone, who would like to go first.” Law said as he sat at the head of the table leaning back in his chair, his face stern as he scanned the room until his eyes got to you where the corner of his mouth lifted a bit. Before you could raise your hand though Cheryl beat you to the punch, standing quickly before Law could even tell her too. 

“I had this super interesting idea if I may Mr. Law!” She squeals and Law only sighs as he clasps his hands on the table, “Well seeing as you already stood up.” There was an underlying irritation to his voice that she clearly didn’t catch and you only smiled down at the table holding in your laugh that threatened to spill. 

“Animals.” She says and puts her arms out to her side like she just pitched a million dollar idea. You couldn’t hold it in seeing her face with a cheesy grin that quickly dropped hearing you laugh. You tried hiding it with a cough but she just put her hands on her hips and gave you an eye roll. “What’s so funny Y/N? I doubt you have a better idea.” 

“Sorry my bad.” You say not wanting to laugh at her pitch; it was just her mannerisms that had you lose it. Law leaned forward now, his eyes looking at you intensely. “Now Y/N I like to treat my company as a family so I won’t tolerate any rude behavior so please why not share your pitch for the rest of us.” He was trying to sound stern and strict but he couldn’t hide that glint in his concrete eyes. Your eyes widened as you looked at the man giving you a scolding, your body heating up under his intense gaze and as much as you wanted to stay focused you just couldn’t help your mind from wandering. 

“Okay, as great as animals are- we just held a banquet for them a month ago to save animals from deforestation. It was a big hit but I was thinking of the children this time around.” You say standing up and walking over to the projector to insert your usb, your presentation popping up on the screen. “I was thinking with the company’s 30th birthday coming up that we could celebrate by holding a banquet to gather donations to send all kinds of gifts to kids for their birthdays.” 

“How is that better than animals exactly?” Cheryl spat out and you sighed. “I never said either or is better I was just saying that we already did a fundraiser for the animals these past two banquets. The banquet held for saving Koalas and the one for deforestation were both super big hits so I just thought maybe we could try something different.” You further explain and she just rolls her eyes, Amber doing the same when they locked eyes. 

“I just think since you’ve never really done much here that you should just wait and let the rest of us come up with the ideas like we usually do. What do you even do here?” Amber says and you just give her a ‘are you for real’ look that makes her huff. 

“I’ve been working here longer than the both of you and I do the same job you all do. That means I’ve seen endless fundraisers for animals, all of which are great but there’s nothing wrong with some new ideas.” You state back before carrying on, “Anyways- I think we could set up a whole website where you list a child’s name, age and things that they like along with your address and someone anywhere in the world can choose what and how much they want to send. As a company you already have so many people who can donate thousands and that would jump start the whole program. Just think of schools and parents being able to give every child a birthday gift and bringing joy that's immeasurable just over one present to make them feel special. Each gift would be sent out before the child’s birthday to ensure they have at least something to open along with a card with a special note for them to hold onto years to come.”  

You flip through all the slides and mock ups of the website that you came up with along with possible ads that you could put on different platforms to make the whole thing possible. You had thought of everything, there was no loophole, or loose end that you left and it had everyone stunned. You may have kept quiet for years but there was a reason, when an idea was too good you never wanted to spoil it by sharing it too early. After you finished speaking you waited for them all to vote like they usually did but Law just stood up clapping his hands for you. 

“Outstanding! Absolutely incredible. This is life changing. Imagine how one gift could drastically change the hope for a child who never thought someone cared. Think about what they could achieve.” 

“It’s just a dumb birthday gift.” Amber mumbles, pissed since she’s usually the one that makes the winning pitch in these meetings. 

Law held out a hand to silence her, “Enough. It’s more than a gift, it’s a symbol that people care, that despite the circumstances you live in there’s still something for you in this world. I love it. We need to work on this as soon as possible. I’ll call my investors, we need vendors and caterers, I’ll leave those to you Y/N. Anything she needs, all of you help her, it’s her idea so she’s the lead on this. No more nonsense fights and childish behaviour. Break for lunch first everyone. Great work Y/N. I’d like to have a word alone with you in my office, please.” As everyone leaves you unplug your usb and put it in your pocket to fix your papers before following your boss to his office.

Once in his modern designed office, you gasp as you notice the view of the brightly lit city shining like something out of a movie. “I must say you’ve been holding out on me Y/N.” Your boss leans down to whisper in your ear making you shiver as he catches you off guard. “I’m glad to see that your brain matches that beautiful face of yours.” His voice drips with seduction that threatens you to partake upon but all you do is turn your face to his with a sly smile. 

“I’m glad you think so sir.” His eyes glanced down to your lips before he backed away to lean against the front of his desk. “Y/N I have a secret I’d like to add to our list if that’s alright with you.” Smiling you give a nod making him continue, his tattooed hand going to fidget with his tie, not missing how your eyes watched with lustful intensity. “Are you sure you want to hear it? I might have to give you another big raise so you don’t sue.” Taking a step forward you tell him it’s okay and he only smirks as his eyes scan your body. 

“I really can’t stop thinking of you. Have dinner with me tonight.” It wasn’t a question and you both knew it, he knew you’d say yes, hell- even you knew you’d say yes. But you both had a good banter between the two of you so it was only right for you to walk toward him. You let your hand grab onto his tie gently pulling until he leaned closer, “Hmm you’re right sir. I think I will need that raise but- if you can show me a good time after dinner then I think we can settle a good deal.” 

“Son of a bitch.” Law breaths out shakily and it makes you smile at him, winking as you release him before heading to the door. “If you’ll excuse me sir I’ll be heading out for lunch. You can pick me up at 7, I’m sure you can look up my address.” 

You never felt as sexy as you did in that moment walking away, even your secret stash of lingerie couldn’t rival the way that Law made you feel. Your body was buzzing, you thought your heart would beat out of your chest and the grin that was plastered on your face just looked like excitement for the pitch that he praised you on. If only they knew the chemistry between the boss and you they would have a fucking field day but you could give two shits about these fucking snakes. That man was yours and when you have your sights on something you’ll break as many necks as you have to in order to get it.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part three

I'm the most impatient person I know, so here's another!

Warnings: reader smoking cigarettes, just more case stuff, and as usual their bickering (but also moments of...non-bickering? gasp?)

Morgan finds you outside the precinct, pacing.

“Hey,” he says. “We’re going to get lunch and stop at the school, come on.”

You stop pacing. “Fine. Can we make a pit stop?” You follow Morgan over to the car, yanking the door open.

“Sure,” he shrugs. “Where?”

“Just a gas station,” you reply, pulling yourself into the passenger seat. “I need a fucking cigarette.”

“Uh-uh, woah,” Morgan turns his body toward you. “Since when do you smoke?”

“On and off,” you shrug. “When I’m stressed. Can we go?”

“Yeah.” Morgan turns the key in the ignition. “But cigarettes are the last stop.”

“That’s fine,” you say, trying hard to sound nonchalant, even though you know Morgan sees right through you.

Still, he says nothing, and heads toward Lila’s school.

“Marie’s mom is on the way to the school to pick her up,” Morgan says. “And to be there while we talk to her.”

“Alright,” you reply. “I don’t think Marie knew what was happening.”

“I don’t think she did, but I don’t think she’d say if she did either,” Morgan says, “but I’m hoping something about her behavior will tell us what she doesn’t say.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to talk to her without her mom present?” you suggest. “I mean, at that age, I probably wouldn’t say anything if my mom was in the room.”

“It’s not likely, but we can ask,” Morgan says. “Sometimes the parents surprise us.”

“I don’t think I want any surprises,” you say. “I just want Lila to be home safe.”

“She will be,” Morgan says. “We’ll get her home.”

“I need that optimism,” you tease. “Got any to spare?”

“I have plenty to go around, believe me.”

+++

The middle school freaks you out. It’s so small.

“I haven’t been in a school since I was…in school,” you murmur. “Is it just me, or are the ceilings really low?”

Morgan looks up and laughs. “It’s just you. Come on.”

The two of you flash your badges and the school secretary takes you right in to see the vice principal. The principal is out of town, so not only is the VP doing two jobs, but now she has a missing kid. You introduce yourselves to the frantic, yet somehow collected administrator.

“Thanks so much for letting us come as well,” you say, shaking her hand. “I understand our colleagues, Agent Hotchner and Prentiss, were already here.”

“Yes, very brooding, that man,” she says. “I’m Mrs. Henry, I have our SRO doing another sweep of the campus to see if Lila might be hiding anywhere.”

“I don’t think she’s hiding, Mrs. Henry,” you say.

“But we appreciate the effort,” Morgan adds. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Yes, exactly,” you agree, covering up your quick mouth. It really will get you in deep shit one of these days. “Is Marie Laud here yet?”

“She’s in the counselor’s office,” Mrs. Henry says. “Her mother is on her way, but I can take you to her.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“And do you mind if I ask you some questions while Agent L/N speaks to Marie?” Morgan says.

“Not at all,” Mrs. Henry shakes her head, grabbing her radio. “Right this way.”

The counselor’s office is just around the corner, and you spot Marie instantly. She’s doing homework by the looks of it, and the counselor is next to her, simply typing on her laptop. Marie doesn’t look closed off, but she’s also not an open book — that much can be told from her willingness to do homework instead of talk.

You observe her from a distance for a while longer, listening to Morgan’s questions.

“Is every door locked at all times in this building?”

“Well, yes, but anyone inside can open them. It would be a fire hazard if no one could get out.”

“I understand,” Morgan nods. “We just want to cover every base. Now, you’re positive she was present this morning?”

“I’ve spoken to the teacher personally, as well as Marie, and yes, Lila was here.”

You turn your head. “Marie is in Lila’s first period?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Henry nods. “They have almost every class together. Their fifth periods are different, but that’s all.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly. “I’m gonna try to talk to her.”

Waiting for Marie’s mom might be the smart thing to do, but you can deal with the mom’s anger later. You worry that Marie will feel judged or like she’s in trouble if her mom is around, especially if she knows something about Lila’s disappearance. 

You walk into the counselor’s office with a warm smile, introducing yourself to the counselor, Ms. Blackwell. 

“Is it alright if I sit?” you ask.

Ms. Blackwell nods. “Of course, go right ahead.” 

Marie’s eyes are glued to her homework, but you see her attempt to look at you through the very top of her peripheral vision.

“Algebra?” you ask. “You’re better at it than I am.” She is blasting through each question. You don’t even know if they’re right, but it looks like they must be. She seems confident. “Is that what class you’re supposed to be in right now?”

It’s tiny, but Marie does nod. She doesn’t look up, but she says, “Me and Lila have it together.”

“Oh, I see,” you murmur. “Did you see Lila this morning?”

Another nod. “Yeah, in homeroom.” Marie pauses, looks up. “That’s first period.”

You chuckle. “I had a homeroom, too.”

Marie looks back at her worksheet. “She just told me she had to go to the bathroom.”

“What was that?” you ask.

The counselor looks dumbfounded. Clearly you’ve gotten more out of Marie than Ms. Blackwell has this entire time.

“Lila said she had to pee,” Marie says again. “We were about to go to second period, but she had to pee. I didn’t wanna be late, so I went to class. She said she’d be there.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Was she really eager to leave? Did it seem urgent?”

Marie nods, looking at you weirdly. “Yeah. I thought she just had to pee really bad or got her period or something.”

“Yeah, I get that,” you reply. “Was she texting anyone?”

“I mean, she had her phone in her hand, but I dunno if she was texting anyone. We usually text in class,” Marie glances guiltily at the counselor.

“I used to pass notes in class, old fashioned texting,” you chuckle. “Did Lila say anything else that was maybe really weird or just something else you remember?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Marie shrugs. “Her book bag looked bigger.”

“Bigger?”

“Yeah, like she had a lot of stuff in it. She usually only has one notebook and her planner, but it was like. Big.”

“Huh,” you comment. “That is odd.”

“Right?” Marie says, looking back at her math. “I asked her why and she said she just felt like bringing her lunch today. It was weird.”

“Does she not normally bring her lunch?”

“Nah, we get the salads in the cafeteria,” Marie says. She tries to solve a math problem, then stops, and looks back up at you. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I hope so,” you murmur. “Hey, if you think of anything, here’s my number.” You hand your card to her. “You can text or call me, any time.”

“Thanks,” Marie says, smiling a little. “Oh, there’s my mom.”

You turn and see Mrs. Laud coming toward you, so you stand. “Mrs. Laud, I’m Agent L/N.”

“Hi,” she says. “Did you speak to Marie?”

“We just finished,” you smile. “I apologize for not waiting for you, but every minute counts.”

“Oh, yes, I understand, that’s no problem,” Mrs. Laud replies, surprising you. You’ll have to tell Morgan. “Is Lila going to be okay? Her mom is so distraught; I just got off the phone with her again.”

“We’re doing everything we can,” you assure her. “My partner and I need to get back, but if you think of anything that might help us,” you hand Mrs. Laud your card, “please, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“Of course,” you reply. “Excuse me.”

You head back outside in the hall where Morgan stands, listening to the vice principal ramble. You’re not sure if she’s said anything helpful, but Morgan looks ready to go when he sees you.

Once you’re back in the car, you tell Morgan everything that Marie had to say.

“So she had a bag packed,” Morgan says, coming to the same conclusion as you did. “I wonder if her mom noticed. I feel like you’d notice if your kid suddenly took a lot more with her to school than usual.”

“Lila could’ve had the clothes in her locker,” you suggest. “I don’t think it matters much if the mom noticed or not. The point is, she clearly had a plan.”

“You’re right,” Morgan nods. “We should get lunch and head back. You can call Hotch in the car.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Morgan chuckles. “If y’all are gonna work together, you need to work your shit out.”

“Derek, you have no idea how impossible that is.”

+++

Admittedly, Hotch is shocked to see your name come up on his phone. It still flashes with your old workplace; he needs to change that to BAU. As well as your photo. It’s one he took ten years ago when you first put your number in his contact list. You were glaring at him then, the same way you do now.

“Hello?” Hotch answers, half expecting Morgan’s voice, but he gets yours.

“Hi.” You don’t sound too happy at all to be the one calling him. Hotch wonders if you know the feeling is mutual. “We spoke with Lila’s best friend. Marie said Lila left in a hurry. Said she had to use the bathroom, but Marie didn’t want to be late for class, so she went ahead, thinking Lila would catch up.”

“Did Marie say what time? That must be when Lila left school.”

“Right before second period,” you reply, then add, “which puts it around 9am. The teacher must’ve called roll as soon as the bell rang.” 

“Alright,” Hotch sighs. Unfortunately, this doesn’t tell them much that they didn’t already know, but he supposes confirmation is better than nothing. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Morgan’s voice comes through. “I spoke with the vice principal. She said every door is open for safety reasons. Lila could’ve walked out any of the doors and no one would know. None of them have alarms.”

“And not all of them have cameras,” Hotch fills in. “Garcia has run into a wall. None of the footage shows Lila leaving. We only have her entering school that morning. JJ is going over it with Garcia right now to study her behavior.”

“It’s not looking good, Hotch,” Morgan says.

“I know,” Hotch replies. “Grab lunch and get back here. We need to find her.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you sing.

Hotch sighs deeply, ending the call without a goodbye.

Rossi looks at him with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Hotch asks.

Rossi only shakes his head, looking back at the file he has in his hands. “Nothing.”

+++

“Did you hear that?” Morgan taunts. “Lunch, and high tail it back. No cigarettes, sorry honey.”

“I’ll get some tonight,” you mock him. “I’ll need one to calm me down enough to sleep, anyway.”

“I’m gonna lock you in your room,” Morgan says, turning into a random drive-thru. He sounds a little too serious.

“I’ll jump out the window,” you grin. “Now shut up and order.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Seven hamburgers and fries later, you and Morgan are headed back to the precinct to deliver food.

“Food has arrived,” you announce as you walk into the conference room. “What’s the verdict, boss?” You toss Hotch a hamburger, surprised that he catches it so easily.

He scowls at you, unwrapping it to find you remembered exactly what he likes. Or Morgan did. Probably Morgan.

“Don’t tell me he messed it up,” you groan, seeing Hotch’s frown. He’s grumpier than usual if his food isn’t right, and you have more important things to argue with him about than his damn food. “I gave Morgan every detail. Did you say it wrong?” You take a fry from Morgan’s share out of spite.

“No, it’s right,” Hotch says, still shocked that you remembered and didn’t purposefully order incorrectly just to irritate him. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” you nod, grabbing yours and tossing Spencer his (plain, only ketchup). “How’s the chatroom, Dr. Reid?”

“Interesting, actually, I’ve been comparing Rich’s messages with other texts that we have from a few years ago, and they’re not the same person — unless he’s changed drastically since being in hiding, but I doubt that. People can change how they speak, but not that much, look at this,” Reid forgets all about his food and slides two papers over to you. “See how he talks to Lila here? He lets her think she has made the plans, but that’s not at all how Richard talks; he’s too dominating, and—”

“Kid, kid,” Morgan interrupts. “Eat something, then continue. You need fuel if you’re going to run that fast.”

Puzzled, Reid says, “I’m not running.”

Morgan and Emily laugh, shaking their heads.

“Metaphorically,” Rossi says. 

You nod, pushing his food closer. “Eat up. Then you can run it by me.”

“Oh,” Reid says. “Right, right, that makes sense.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “Where’s the footage of Lila entering the school?”

“Here,” Hotch says, taking the seat next to you and turning the laptop around toward you. He presses the spacebar and it begins playing.

Lila walked into school, clearly struggling with the weight of her book bag. She looked around, almost paranoid, but then she saw Marie and went right to her. They hugged, talked, put their book bags down as they waited for the bell to ring. It looks normal.

Three minutes later, the bell rang, and the two girls went to class.

Hotch presses the spacebar again, stopping the footage. “That’s it.”

“Damn,” you mutter, swallowing your last bite. You reach over and reverse it, starting the video from the beginning again. “She must’ve had more than clothes in that bag. Look. She can hardly get it up on her shoulders. She’s looking around, social anxiety, maybe? I was the same until I found my friends, like she does when she finds Marie. Then she’s fine. They’re talking, laughing. Marie points to the book bag,” you pause, watching, “but Lila shrugs.”

“We’ve already been over this,” Hotch says. “While you were out with Morgan.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you wave Hotch and his attitude away. “I know. Fresh eyes, isn’t that what you preach?”

Hotch glares at you, but leaves you alone. He stands and walks to the board where pictures of Lila, Richard Monroe, and Lila’s mother are posted. Rossi joins him, the two having some sort of silent back and forth.

Nothing about Lila’s behavior seems overly concerning to you, and that is what worries you.

“Reid, how does Lila sound in the chat room?”

“Calm,” Reid says around a mouthful of fries. “She trusts this Rich person, and clearly thinks it’s her father.”

“Does he ever say that he is?”

“Not exactly,” Reid replies. “He says so in a roundabout way, but not explicitly.“

“So, it’s not Richard Monroe,” you conclude, much to Hotch’s displeasure, which he makes known by his glare. “Can I see the messages?”

Reid hands you the papers, and you tell him to finish his food while you look at them. The kid needs to slow down and eat sometimes.

JJ’s phone rings and she sighs. “More press. Gotta get this.”

“Tell them we have no comment right now,” Hotch says.

JJ only nods, putting on her facade to speak to the reporters.

“They want us to make a statement, don’t they?” Emily asks, and Morgan scoffs, knowing how the media can be.

Hotch nods. “This is going to get out of hand if we don’t find her. Quickly.”

+++

Hotch sends everybody to their respective hotel rooms for a minimum of seven hours of sleep. That is, if anyone falls asleep as soon as they set foot in the door. Otherwise, it’s looking more like five or six hours.

For you, maybe four.

You take a walk next door to the gas station, grabbing a pack of cigarettes against Morgan’s better wishes. He’s not here to stop you, and he’s probably snoring by now anyway.

Besides, you need something if you’re going to make it through a case like this.

Why did this have to be your first with the BAU? Couldn’t you get something lighter? A regular, run of the mill serial killer?

Now you have to deal with memories resurfacing, and hiding that from the rest of the team, who is probably profiling you every second they can just because you’re new. Or at least Hotch is. He’s never stopped profiling you. You wonder if it’s exhausting for him. 

You ponder the thought, and many others, as you step out onto the balcony from your hotel room.

Hotch… He really hasn’t changed. You think you have, but then again, a lot has happened to you in the past ten years. 

A lot has happened to him, apparently, too. He doesn’t wear a wedding ring anymore.

Not that that’s any of your business, but you noticed. You thought he and his wife were happy when you first met him. High school sweethearts, too. It seemed blissfully perfect. Must not have been true.

Whether or not he’s broken up about it, you can’t tell. He’s always had that damn frown on his face, even back when he was (allegedly) a happy husband. 

You scoff as you bring out your lighter. He’s a mystery. An annoying bastard, sure, but mostly a mystery.

The first inhale after a long time is the hardest, yet the most relieving, too. You can practically feel your shoulders drop in relaxation, something they haven’t done in a while.

“You shouldn’t smoke.”

“JESUS fucking Christ,” you shout, dropping your cigarette and stepping on it by accident. Thank god you put on shoes, or else that would’ve burned like a bitch. You turn your head toward Hotch’s voice, finding him sitting on the balcony next door, his feet propped on the little table. He’s without his jacket and tie now, and his dress shirt is unbuttoned three down. “Seriously?”

“What?” he replies, looking straight ahead, out at the horizon, not at you. “It’s bad for your lungs. Don’t you have asthma?”

“Sometimes,” you mutter, annoyed that he remembered. It only acts up when you do smoke, but that’s not his business. You light another and take an even longer drag. “What are you doing out here?”

“Same as you,” he says, threading his fingers together over his lap. “Sans cigarettes.”

“I’ll give one up if you’d like,” you say, knowing he won’t take it.

He doesn’t budge. “No, thank you.”

As weird as it sounds, this might be the nicest conversation the two of you have ever had.

“Suit yourself,” you shrug, taking another drag. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” he says. “I probably won’t until we find this girl.”

“You used to sleep.”

He turns his head toward you. The moonlight highlights his features. His cheekbones, his nose. “Pardon?”

“You used to be able to sleep,” you repeat. “At least for a few hours. Did you develop insomnia while I was gone?”

“No,” he deadpans, turning to look straight ahead again. “What about you?”

“Sometimes I just don’t sleep,” you shrug. It’s not entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie, either. You would be sleeping right now if it weren’t for the nature of this case. If it weren’t so close to the hell of a childhood you lived through.

“Will you be able to work tomorrow?” he asks, sounding accusatory.

“Yes, Agent Hotchner,” you scoff. “I’ll be able to work tomorrow. Will you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he echoes, taking his feet down and standing. “Get some sleep.”

You roll your eyes. “Good night.”

He disappears into his room and closes the curtains. You blow smoke in his direction anyway, watching it cloud your view of his room.

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers Day 31: NYE countdown. Maxiel. About 1.5k words.

"Max, Maxy, Maximum, Maximus Prime!"

Max turns away from his conversation with Alex just in time to catch Daniel around the waist as he stumbles into him, the drink in his cup sloshing over his wrist.

"Hello, Daniel," Max says, unable to stop himself from smiling, readjusting his grip so that he can hold Daniel more comfortably.

From the corner of his eye he catches Alex moving away, probably deciding that their conversation is over now that Daniel has Max's attention. Which is a very fair assumption, given that in all the years they've been friends, Max has always dropped anyone and anything to focus on Daniel.

Some might call it pathetic, to still be in love with his best friend after so long, but Max doesn't really care about what other people think. He just cares about Daniel's warm weight in his arms, and the fact that when all the people at this party will have left their house, Daniel will still be there, probably moving stuff around to pretend he's helping with the clean up.

"Are you having fun, Daniel?" he asks, trying to maneuver them towards the kitchen, both to clean up Daniel's wrist before he complains about the stickiness and to not feel like every single person is staring at them.

Well, every single person other than Charles and Carlos, who seem to be trying to get acquainted with each other's tonsils.

"Yes," Daniel answers, letting himself be dragged away, stumbling unhelpfully on his own feet.

Once they're in the kitchen, occupied only by Logan and Oscar, heads bent over a phone, a half empty bottle of wine next to them, Max hoists Daniel on the counter, right next to the sink, swiping away a few empty paper plates.

"Stay still, please," he tells Daniel, grateful he doesn't have to shout as much over the music anymore. They should probably start lowering that actually, if they don't want the cops called on them again, but it's new year's eve, for sure old Meredith could let it slide this once.

He plucks Daniel's cup from his hand, something of not clear nature inside it, and wets a couple paper towels, gently wiping at his wrist and hand.

"Maxy," Daniel says, dropping his head forward to rest it on Max's shoulder. He's making Max's job harder like this, but Max is not going to complain. He just hums, showing Daniel he's listening.

"I have decided on my resolutions list," Daniel tells him, sounding slightly more sober than he did before.

Max drops the paper towels and grabs an empty cup, filling it with water from the sink and handing it to Daniel, coaxing him to raise his head to drink it.

Daniel had been talking about his resolutions list for more than a week. Max is not sure why he's so set on having new year's resolutions, since in the past eight years he's known him not once Daniel has been the kind of person who follows a plan, but he's been listening anyway every time he brought the topic up.

Max doesn't understand why he's having so much trouble creating the list either. Sure, Daniel does have his moments of perfectionism, but seeing him actually get stressed about this had been puzzling.

"Yeah? Can I know it?" he asks, dropping the now empty cup when Daniel hands it to him before opening his arms, letting Daniel comfortably slump into him again.

Somewhere on his left, Logan and Oscar leave the kitchen, closing the door behind them, cutting off a little more of the noises of the party, making Max feel like he's in his private Daniel bubble for the first time this evening.

He's not ashamed of saying that he's a bit possessive, greedy about having his fair share of Daniel's time, but he's gotten better with the years. The last time Daniel had been in a relationship, Max hadn't even tried to scare them off, but they had gone anyway after a couple of months, leaving a very mopey Daniel behind. Max had keyed their car.

"First thing, I want to learn how to play the banjo," Daniel says, way too loud way too close to Max's ear.

It makes Max smile anyway, knowing this point will be abandoned in a few months at most, just like every other instrument Daniel had tried to learn, getting bored with each one of them.

"Good start," he encourages anyway, because he's nothing but disgustingly soft when it comes to Daniel, even worse when he's tipsy like tonight.

He gets rewarded by Daniel pulling back to beam at him, before going back to Max's shoulder.

Sometimes holding himself back from kissing him takes all of Max's strength.

"Then, I want to improve my handwriting."

Yep, just as Max had thought. Another task that will be abandoned, like all the other times Daniel had tried before.

"I can read your handwriting," Max tells him, because it's true. No matter the kind of drunken chicken scratch he finds on the grocery list, Max has learned to interpret it all. It's not that hard really, when you manage to recognise the subtle differences between the squiggles. Part of the game is actually learning what is supposed to be a word and what is a doodle.

"You can, because you're great," Daniel mumbles against his shirt, as Max tries to pretend he can't feel himself blushing, "but I am so tired of people complaining about it."

"People should just learn how to read," Max tells him, unhappy with someone making Daniel feel like he should change. Which is very stupid, because Daniel is perfect, chicken scratches included.

It makes Daniel laugh, waist moving under Max's hands, his wet bottom lip dragging against the exposed part of Max's shoulder.

"Do you have any more?" he rushes to ask, trying to distract himself from the feeling of it.

In the other room, the music gets lowered, and for a second Max thinks it's the cops again, until he hears someone scream two minutes!

They should probably rejoin their friends, celebrate midnight with them, but Max is quite comfortable where he is, and he doesn't want to see Daniel grab someone to kiss, even if just to laugh about it afterwards.

He had long learned his lesson, after one year he had tried to angle himself in Daniel's line of view, just for him to reach around him and grab Charles instead. Max had gotten way too drunk that night.

"One more," Daniel says, voice even lower now that the music is off and they're so close. He sounds more hesitant suddenly, nervous fingers fidgeting with the hem of Max's shirt.

"Do you want to tell me?" Max asks, just to be sure. Sometimes Daniel needs a little push before he opens up, but it's always a very thin line between getting an answer and being shut out with a joke instead. This time Daniel nods.

"I want to suck your dick."

Max chokes on his spit, trying to push back Daniel to be able to see his face, feeling his eyes go wide.

It wouldn't be the first time they joke about it, but Daniel doesn't sound like he's joking, and if this is a prank Max is going to get very drunk again and probably go cry in the bathroom, but...

But when he manages to push Daniel's head up, he's blushing and he's looking at Max from underneath his lashes, fear and determination mixing on his face.

"You mean it?" Max forces himself to ask, sounding breathless. His heart is beating too fast, so loud he's sure Daniel can hear it too.

Daniel nods, one corner of his mouth turning up in a shadow of his usual smile.

"My last resolution is to stop lying to myself about my feelings for you," he says.

It echoes around his brain, bouncing around and amplifying: feelings for you feelings for you feelings for you feelings for you.

In the other room someone starts the countdown, and Max reaches forward, cupping Daniel's jaw with his hands.

"Are you gonna buy me dinner first?" he asks, just to see Daniel smile properly.

"Can I do it next year?"

Max rolls his eyes, but he still chuckles, weak for Daniel always, even when it's his bad jokes.

Three, two, one...

On the other side of the door sound explodes, their friends cheering and screaming, but Max barely hears it as he presses his lips against Daniel's.

(George screams when he opens the door to come grab the champagne chilling in the fridge and finds them making out against the counter, Max's thigh between Daniel's. The new wave of cheers that follows it is so loud Max starts mentally preparing his apologies for old Meredith and the cops, even as he copies Daniel in flipping them all off.)

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 79: Oliver's Questions

tw: mind control

Previous > Masterlist

October 1925

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. "Oliver? May I come in?" It sounded like Emily.

"Sure," he said, not especially in the mood for talking, but wanting to be out of his own head for a moment.

He heard the click of the door unlocking, and Emily pocketed the key as she walked into the room. "Vivian thought maybe it'd be a good idea for me to check on you. How are you doing?"

"I'm managing."

"Have you heard your master -- your former master's voice?"

"No. But I will tell you if I do." The least he could do for Emily and Vivian was to try to resist and let them know right away. Purposefully betraying them after they'd gone through this effort to save him was unthinkable.

"I think I might understand a little about how you feel, you know. Defending Alexander even though he's a monster."

"You do?"

"I mean, Jessica was awful through and through. She robbed me of everything and treated me like a housecat. I'm glad that she's dead. But still, sometimes… I think a part of me misses the certainty." She curled in on herself a bit. "I don't know what I'm going to do now that I'm freed. It's back to nasty jobs that pay peanuts, while trying to find time and energy to make art good enough to sell, I suppose. Struggling every day. I guess it was nice not to struggle for a while, even if it was a terrible situation."

"Yeah," said Oliver. "I understand. I wasn't struggling like you before the vampires, but it still was nice to feel like I had a purpose, even if it was feeding a vampire."

"I think if Jessica had been just a little bit nicer to me, the way Alexander was to you, I would feel a lot more conflicted," she said. "But you know that he didn't really care about you, right? I don't think monsters like that can feel real feelings."

"…Yeah." Even if she were right, it was a bitter pill for him to swallow.

"If Alexander really cared about you, he wouldn't have put you through all of that with his sire. He would have protected you, or stood up to him, or hidden you away, or something. Instead, he told you that he'd never let you free. That's what you said, wasn't it?"

"It is."

She must be right. It wasn't as though Oliver hadn't had that same thought, even while enthralled. His show of being caring was always a convenient lie to keep Oliver happy and docile.

But then, he thought of how tenderly Alexander had cared for him after he was blinded, how he reassured Oliver and soothed him to sleep with his song. He thought of Alexander by his bedside when he was sick, feeding him warm soup and wiping his forehead with a cool washcloth. Small comforts, perhaps, but more than Oliver had before.

"I suppose… a part of me wishes he did actually care about me, and that's why I don't want Vivian to kill him."

"…I get it," said Emily quietly. "I'm sorry I was so harsh on you earlier, but honestly, I do understand. I once had a lover… it's a shameful story, but I guess you've seen me in the lap of a vampire, so it's not like I have any dignity left. I once had a lover who showered me with gifts and affection, and made me feel like I was someone special -- when he was sober and in a good mood. When he wasn't, he was a nightmare. You can probably imagine it. And it took me such a long time to understand that if he truly loved me, he wouldn't treat me that way, not ever. Even when I did, it took me even longer to leave, because I wished he would be someone different, someone who actually cared."

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Don't be. Lesson learned."

"You shouldn't have had to go through that to learn a lesson," said Oliver. "But I do understand what you mean. I'm not sure if it's quite the same since Alexander certainly wasn't my lover, just…"

What was Alexander to him, exactly? His friend? His master? Neither of those could really captured the unwavering devotion, the powerful draw he'd felt.

The draw he was feeling even now, knowing how manufactured it was.

Tears sprang to Oliver's eyes as he was overcome by a wave of deep sadness, and although he'd been sad all night, this felt both foreign and strangely familiar, feelings that weren't his own, a sense of loss and melancholy and grief coming from far away, tethering him to…

"Oliver, what is it? You've gone so pale."

"Alexander. I can feel him. I think he's calling to me."

"Oh, no -- I'll go get Vivian right now." Emily rushed from the room.

It wasn't like a song, now. It was comprised of images, emotions. The library, cold and dark, Alexander weeping and calling him back. Oliver tried to push it away -- nothing more than a jailer upset that his inmate escaped. But he couldn't truly believe that, not with Alexander's own emotions clouding his mind.

"Go away," Oliver whispered to the empty room. "Leave me alone. Stop tormenting me with this."

"Emily said you've heard your former master?" Vivian was standing over him with furrowed brow.

"Yes, I'm sure of it. I can feel what he's feeling. It's almost unbearable."

"That's the blood connection." She looked out of the window, where the sky was growing lighter. "The sun will be up soon. If you can endure it until then, the vampire's power will fade when the sun rises. Do you think you could do that?"

"I think so." He didn't seem to really have a choice, not unless he wanted to betray Vivian and go running back to the manor.

"It'd be best if you could stay up for most of the day, to start to get used to a human schedule again. I can find ways to keep you busy and take your mind off things. And then when night comes around, I could give you something to make you sleep, so that you don't have to endure vampires intruding on your mind. How does that sound?"

Oliver nodded. "I don't think I've ever really thanked you for your help. You don't need to do all of this for me."

"It's my job," she said. "Besides, no one else has ever provided me such a treasure trove of information about my sworn enemy. It's been well worth it."

Oliver anxiously watched the sky outside his window, feeling as though the sunrise might never come, as though the vampire's power might endure forever. But of course the sun rose once again, and as Vivian predicted, Alexander's feelings faded away as the sun crested over the buildings.

He was exhausted, but found a second wind of energy helping Jenny prepare breakfast and eating a sizable portion of it himself, along with ample coffee. Emily overslept and dragged herself down the stairs just as they were about to clean up from the meal, pouring and chugging what coffee remained.

After breakfast, Vivian assigned Emily and Jenny chores, in particular taking care of Bobby, an erased thrall unable to care for himself. Oliver was reminded once more of all of the grievous harm of the auction house, even if he himself had escaped the worst treatment. Lily had done those things, and Alexander was more than complicit.

"What would you like me to do, Vivian?" he asked, more than eager for some work to quiet his mind.

"I was hoping you could accompany me to the grocer's and the butcher's, to restock the pantry. It would help to have an extra set of arms to carry back the food."

Oliver looked at Vivian's arms, recalling her struggle with Alexander. She was clearly far stronger than Oliver, and he suspected that needing someone to carry bags was an excuse to make Oliver feel helpful. Regardless, he thought that the fresh air would do him good. "I'd be happy to help."

"Great! Here, there's some spare coats in the closet. See if one fits you."

Soon enough, Oliver was out the door, blinking in the midday sun. He'd had so little sun, especially since he'd been sleeping in Alexander's room instead of his own. People were bustling about on the sidewalk, a mailman was making his way down the street, and all of the shops were open. The leaves were beginning to fall from the trees, but the foliage that was left was drenched in reds and golds. Oliver realized that he hadn't actually been outside during the day since his capture.

"You must have missed this," said Vivian as they walked to the grocery store. "Ordinary human life, I mean."

"I guess I did." In the light of day, it was a lot easier to put the world of vampires behind him as though it were all a bad dream. Under Alexander's spell, he didn't realize how much he had missed being able to simply walk down the street to a shop on a crisp fall day. He thought of sitting in the park among the autumn trees, reading a book and watching the people walk by, as he had liked to do on breaks. How much had the vampires stolen from his mind, to make him forget all of this, to make him content without it!

Even the ordinary grocer's was a delight. He'd always had plenty of food in the manor, and Alexander had bought him whatever he put down on a list, but there was a simple pleasure in looking over the grocer's wares and choosing it all himself. Vivian was mulling over whatever was cheapest or on sale to feed herself and the thralls back in the safehouse, and Oliver trailed along, carrying her purchases and making suggestions.

In the harsh light of day, with a clearer head, it was easier to see the vampires for what they were -- monsters who had stolen his life from him.

And yet, there was still a nagging part of him who felt like he didn't quite belong here, not any more. Not now that he knew that vampires and their establishments were all over the city. Not when he'd been getting so used to being on Alexander's arm, serving him and accompanying him.

He'd been the perfect thrall, supposedly, and although Alexander could have just been saying that to keep Oliver mollified, Oliver really couldn't deny how comfortable he'd felt in the role. Even as he was enjoying a sunny afternoon in the city, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was just playacting as a normal person. Alexander had convinced him so swiftly and so thoroughly that he belonged as a thrall that Oliver feared he might never be able to shake it.

But didn't that mean Vivian was right? Oliver would never be safe as long as Alexander and his sire were out there, beckoning him to return. And even if Oliver himself managed to escape, Alexander would only take some other poor soul and turn him into his slave. Leaving him alive would only be condemning person after person to be ripped away from the world of humans and trapped in the dangerous world of vampires.

The thought of Alexander taking someone else as his thrall made him sick.

If Alexander really was going to spend decades or centuries taking human after human, it would be wrong to leave him alive, wouldn't it? As much as that made rational sense, he couldn't accept it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she said as they carried the groceries home.

"I was thinking about what you said before -- about how you need to kill Alexander. I confess that I still don't like it, not at all, but maybe… maybe it is the right thing to do." His heart ached from betrayal even as he said it, unable to convince himself.

"Thank you. I know it must be a hard thing for you to consider," she said. "I do understand your reluctance, at least a little bit. I did see you in your gilded cage. I saw that he treated you decently."

"He did." Oliver couldn't help but be mortified at the next question he wanted to ask, but he knew he needed to ask it anyway -- the question he'd been turning over and over in his mind since the ritual. "Vivian, you know a lot about vampires, right?"

"I'm not the world's foremost expert or anything, but I like to think I do, or else I'd be dead by now."

"Do you think it's possible -- god, this must sound ridiculous to you. But do you think it's possible for a vampire to care about a person? Not just for their blood, or as a servant, but actually care for them as a friend?"

"No," said Vivian immediately. "Maybe that's not what you want to hear, but no, they can't."

"I thought that's what you'd say."

"I've seen a lot of vampires in my time. Some of them treat their thralls well, like Alexander. Some of them beat their thralls, or chain them to the wall, or erase their minds to make them as helpless as a baby. Some of them don't keep thralls at all, but prey on people they find on the street, or in their places of business. The circumstances are always different, but there's one thing every vampire has in common -- they all prey on innocent people. No matter how gentle a vampire may seem, they still desire human blood above all else, and are driven to keep humans as their possessions."

"I see."

"You were a very prized possession of your master, I don't doubt that. He did value you. But if your happiness were actually his concern, he wouldn't have taken you from your bookshop. He wouldn't have had to hypnotize you into believing you were happy if he could actually make you happy. Don't you think so?"

"I suppose so," said Oliver. "I think you're probably right. It just hurts to realize. I guess a part of me…"

"A part of you what?"

"Never mind." He didn't actually know Vivian that well, and couldn't bring himself to say it, how a part of him wished that someone else in the world actually did care about him. "I suppose I'm also apprehensive, because if I'm to be free of Alexander, what should I do with my life now? That must sound terribly pathetic."

"No, it doesn't. Most thralls aren't sure what to do with themselves once they're freed, especially if they've been enthralled for years, or if they've been under a very deep spell, like you were."

"What do they end up doing?"

"Some of them return to whatever they were doing before they were taken, of course. But for a lot of them, that's not really possible. Being a thrall seems to change them in ways I don't even fully understand. And for those who have spent years or even decades in a vampire's service, the ordinary world of daylight is as foreign as the surface of the moon," she said. "Some of them are so lost that they end up in a madhouse or prison, or worse, find themselves a new vampire master. I can't say hunters look too kindly on thralls who are rescued, only to sell themselves back to the god damned auction house."

"I won't do that," said Oliver, wishing he actually felt as confident as he was trying to sound.

"Good. If you have the stomach for it, and are interested, sometimes former thralls become part of the hunter's guild. You see, one of the things that makes it difficult for thralls to return to their lives is the fact that no one believes them or understands the experience they went through. In the guild, you'd be surrounded by people who know all about vampires and other supernatural creatures."

"Oh, I don't think I could do that. I've never been the slightest bit athletic. I could never fight a vampire, even a weak one."

"You wouldn't have to fight. The hunters get the glory and the spoils, but there's a lot of other work to be done. If you have an education, they could use people capable of doing research."

"Research, hm…" Oliver couldn't deny that that might be a good fit for him, with his expertise in rare and unusual books. He wondered what sort of rare and interesting books the hunter's guild might hold. "Vivian, if you kill Alexander, what would happen to his library?"

"When a vampire is killed, it's customary to split the spoils among the hunter who killed it, the guild in general, and any thralls left behind. We'd each be entitled to a portion of what Alexander owns."

"I see." Even if he could accept that Alexander must die, it felt absolutely ghoulish to talk about splitting up his possessions. "If you were to kill him… do you think you could make sure that his library ends up in good hands? There's an absolute treasure trove of rare information there, one that would take multiple human lifetimes to recreate."

"Of course! I think you'd be uniquely qualified to catalog it. The guild would want their share, but they would be glad to accept an expert's opinion. And I'm only interested in money and things that are easy to sell. I'm not the reading type."

"Maybe… maybe that's something I could do, then." Something to distract from the guilt he felt pre-emptively, both for betraying his vampire master and for being one of the thralls lucky enough to be rescued when he wasn't even sure that he wanted it.

Previous > Masterlist

Thanks for reading! Next week, Vivian and Oliver both lose their patience.

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[siddyyyyyyyy]

It's All an Act

Actor!AU

Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

wc: 5 K summary: Actor!Bruce plays as your love interest in your up-coming movie warnings: no y/n used, Bruce acting like a rich kid sometimes, fluff, consumption of alcohol at a party, light harrassment a/n: part two is finally here!!! please ignore how long it took for me to write it, just enjoy this piece of my soul. Enjoy!

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

Next day on set felt different. You couldn‘t forget how good he felt against you, how his scent lingered on your clothes after wards and how he shamelessly cock-blocked you. Sure, he has a good reason for it; he wants to make your first time with him special. You appreciate it, you really do, but he could‘ve told you earlier.

At least you both talked about the rest, officially dating and happy. It would have been way better if you could make it public, but with your jobs, you decided on keeping it a secret for the time-being, until some time passes.

But you both don‘t mind, it even feels more thrilling or rather more exciting in that way. Truth be told, it feels like you are in a cheesy romance story. And it‘s the best feeling ever.

Now, you are watching the crew set up the area with cameras, props and mics, making sure everything goes right again while you sip on your coffee. You‘ve barely gotten any sleep anyway after last night, and you really hope Malva won‘t come by and ask for updates. You are unsure what you‘d tell her.

Well, there is no time to panic over things like this and you have to film a more difficult scene today. Which requires stunts, and an angsty scene afterwards, which requires you crying and shouting at him. God, you have a love-hate-relationship with this job.

There is a stunt double of Bruce, actually Andy, that the staff is trying to look more like Bruce with colouring his hair in black and getting him the same clothes he wears for the scene.

You do your best to make sure the few stunts are incredibly safe, working together with the team even though you don‘t understand anything they are talking about, but still make sure they do everything safely.

You panic every time you see Bruce‘s stunt double pratice his falls and jumps, silently letting him do his job and let him focus. Once everything seems to be safe and sound, the action scene starts. Standing by the side, you watch the mission play out smoothly and without any problems. Thank God you didn‘t have enough budget to get explosions in, or else you‘d be worried sick over the planning. The only reason your budget didn‘t fit for some explosions, was because of the cool, high-tech gadget props you bought instead. They are not only cool-looking, but also realistic and mostly useable, if there were real bullets and other things inside.

But just to be sure, you settled on keeping the gadgets unloaded. Just in case something could go wrong.

In all honesty, you expected for Bruce to at least know how to hold a gun the right way. You knew from educating yourself through various videos and posts, so that surprised you. Ignoring the slight surprise, you stay patient beside the stunt choreographer and listen in on the plan of the scene. Shooting it would require some difficulties because of the several cuts and the stunt double, mostly because of the stunt itself.

Andy is going to jump through a window while shooting several enemies inside the room. The coordinator for this scene is trust-worthy and so is the rest of the crew. So, without any further stress, the actors play out their role flawlessly. The camera crew is making sure to capture the action-filled energy of the scene and it seems to work perfectly.

In the end, you worried way too much about it all going wrong in so many ways, that it seems ridiculous to you now. Eventually, after several hours of filming the whole action scene, it‘s time for a bigger break. Bruce looks tired already and you start to feel some kind of guilt for making him do stuff like this. But he auditioned for this role himself, so it‘s also his fault.

You stay back on set to help the rest to pack up the props and clean up the set overall, being busy thinking through the next set of scenes you‘ll have to shoot together after the big break.

A soft tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you turn around. Bruce locks eyes with you in an instant, immediately softening his expression.

He asks for cuddles.

»Now?«

You whisper back hushed and take a few steps off the set with him. He looks uncharacteristically vulnerable and almost sheepish.

»A hug will do as well… with you. On a bed. For fifteen minutes.«

His shoulders slump as he waits for your answer, knowing he sounds like a total dork right now. But you couldn‘t care less right now, feeling yourself crumble and give in easily.

»I think your trailer has a bigger bed, no?«

◐

That‘s how you ended up snuggling up together after every tiring day on set. It actually helped setting your mind on track again, being free on talking his ears off with your current plans on the movie and on what dates the interviews are planned. At the mention of interviews, he gets more curious. Of course, you won‘t be making your new relationship public any time soon, the timing just isn‘t right and it could result in more stress than necessary.

So, the interviews you‘ll need to attend with Bruce will be neutral. Well, as neutral as it can be, since you were also invited to a premiere party once the movie will roll in the theaters. But those are worries for your future selfs, you need to focus on the production first.

It happens very rarely, but today Bruce is taking you to set with his own car. You told him countless of times that it is risky and paparrazi are dying to get some crumbs of content or eventual leaks for the upcoming movie. But he doesn‘t seem too scared by it, he is a billionare after all. And who are you to say no to those big, blue eyes?

Arriving, you haven‘t noticed someting suspicious so far. No annoying people with cameras whose shutter is louder than a damn drum kit. It‘s relieving. Finally, something seems to go your way.

»Are these pictures planned? People are freaking out, the hype is getting bigger.«

Malva comes up beside you, holding her Ipad in front of you to see what she‘s talking about.

These goddamn paparrazi.

Her Ipad displays several pictures of you and Bruce walking across the street, his hand resting on your lower back, both of you smiling about something. On the other pictures, you can see the way he gazes down at you, expression soft and loving, almost carefree.

It really does look almost planned, the way you clinge to his side to stay close will make any person think you two are a couple.

You loudly clear your throat and accidentally gain more attention from other crew members, ducking your head with an apologetic smile. Your best friend only raises her eyebrow at you and closes her screen.

»Planned. We did that just a moment ago, totally didn‘t want that to, uh… gain negative attention. All for the hype.«

You quickly answer back and smile at her, rather awkwardly. She keeps her skeptical stare on you and almost seems to ask you more before she decides to drop the topic and move on.

»Just let us discuss something like this next time. Deal?«

»Deal.«

Malva did sound like a disappointed parent, but you really don‘t want to drop the news on her like that. Sighing out, you move on from it and focus on coordinating the rest of the scenes correctly. Using the break to check on the media, you can easily find the hottest topic trending on Twitter at the moment.

Your — the pictures some paparrazzi took — are floating everywhere. It‘s like a disease. Every other acoount is talking about it, pointing out the hand placement and the soft gaze Bruce holds for you.

THE HANDDDD!! is this offocial now? Should‘ve be me. I wish someone looked at me the way Bruce Wayne looks at her both lips are smiling right now Bi panic omg!!

Some comments take you off guard, but you don‘t want to pretend like it isn‘t amusing you, or you were any better as a teenager with celebrity crushes. Forcing yourself not to giggle at your phone, you put it away for the meantime and get back to work like a serious adult.

After the rather uneventful day, you make your way back to Bruce‘s Manor again, having made a meet up again. Mostly consisting of cuddles and reading.

»What do you think of our new photo together? I hit it off, didn‘t I?«

You slowly turn your head over to him, being confused on what he means by that, before it finally clicks in your mind.

»You saw them too? Did you plan this?«

Suddenly, he raises his hands to his defense and shakes his head.

»Of course not! I would‘ve been way more awkward if it was planned… pff, planned.«

You see him cross his arms and glance away, looking like a child who is being accused of having eaten the last cookie. With fresh cookie crumbs on the corner of his mouth.

Sighing out, you let it slide. You end up being cuddled up to his chest either way, basking in the warmth and comfort it brings to your heart.

◐

You finished filming all scenes for the movie and let it get edited and produced by the other team, only dropping in every now and then to check on them and make sure it meets your expectations. The edits and paparazzi pictures even gained their popularity and even hyped up your movie even more. It‘s ridiculous, watching your up-coming movie getting pushed and bigger by some simple edits, that got most probably made by some teenage girls.

You don‘t complain, actually having saved some of those thirst videos yourself. Just make sure Bruce doesn‘t see your phone and you won‘t get into bigger trouble.

Currently, you wait for the last adjustments to be done at the interview before you could start it, already sitting beside the bigger men on the chairs, while the interviewer gets ready to ask her questions.

You are actually a little excited for this, never having answered questions to your own movie. It was always questions for your role, but now you can actually feel like a director too.

Bruce is also prepared beside you, mostly glancing at you before they set up the cameras and the interviewer sits down in front of you.

First, you greet each other, sharing your excitement to be here and answer some questions for the media.

The whole answering questions thing goes on well, making sure neither of you spoil something or give away your secret relationship. Now, the woman before you asks the final question, wearing a sly smile on her face.

»As for the final question, I hope you can answer it without spoiling too much...« with a light nod from your part, she continues, »Did you take inspiration from the vigilante ‚Superman‘ from Metropolis for the superhero in your movie?«

She finishes, awaiting curiously with a twinkle in her eye. She is popular for her usual eagerness and teasing nature in interviews, and it shows now.

Finally, you give her a nod, also smiling lightly.

»Not exactly him, but I did tried to use some references from different vigilantes from around the citys.«

You don‘t notice it, but Bruce tenses up subtly beside you. His eyes stay locked on the interviewer before they fall back to you; making him relax. He speaks up beside you, unable to keep a teasing remark.

»Not the best vigilante to choose from, but fair choice.« His smug expression makes it seem less sharp, giving him a light chuckle back.

»And you know better vigilantes?« You tease back amused, not having expected for him to be so smug but you won‘t complain.

The interview ends well, having a nice feeling about it afterwards. Your ways part with Bruce, sadly having to go back to work and focus on yourself for the rest of the day.

It was an unspoken rule between the two fo you to ignore or answer relationship questions in a sly way, and luckily, there were no questions of the sort. But you know, as soon as questions like “How do you not catch any feelings during the movie?“ or, “Your chemistry is great! Have you seen the pictures on set, because you two look fantastic together.“, you had to be prepared for more harrasment about it in the future.

Today, is one of those days, where you wish talkshows weren‘t a thing.

»So… the edits. Let‘s talk about them! There‘s hundreds, no, thousands of them all around! Have you seen any of those before?« Asks the moderator, while wearing an amused smirk and watches your reaction. You already feel like this can go south really quickly and shake your head, staying composed.

»Haven‘t seen any of them… yet.«

He quirks an eyebrow at you, letting out a light chuckle. »Well, you‘re about to see some of them!«

With a dramatic arm motion of his, the large screen behind you lights up and starts to show some fan made edits of both Bruce and you. Scenes of the trailer and some leaks, as well as paparazzi pictures, are clipped together that make everything look all the more intimate. Not knowing how to react, you cover your face and hope for the best. The live audience cheers loudly, the camera cutting from your flustered state to the audience as they continue on showing the fan made edit on screen. The moderator finally cuts you some slack, laughing at your flustered state. It‘s not helping, but you are glad that Bruce isn‘t here, witnessing it all and maybe throwing in some teasing comments too.

Sighing out, you look back at the moderator and calm down again. What were you thinking, joining a late night talk show like this?

»I never want to see that again...«

»Oh, just one more.« The moderator teases and smiles widely, letting another edit play on screen. It‘s one that you have saved on your phone. Recognising it, you try your best not to react as embarrassed as before. Still, your rosy cheeks give it away, even though you are way calmer now. Finn, the moderator, feels more friendly than ususal and decides to not point it out. For now, the show had enough entertainment after having had a rather funny conversation with him and showing you these thirst edits.

◐

Finally having a day off, you decide to spend it together with your significant other and relax. Bruce however, doesn‘t seem to have enough of creating core memories together, that you‘ll spend thinking about for the next ten years.

»Oh, thanks for the delicious meal, Alfred. You are dismissed for now.« Bruce tells him with a soft smile and nod, watching how the butler leaves the dining room and lets the chaos begin.

Richard, or Dick, the eldest of his sons, seems to be the most adequate, but also the most lively among his brothers. Bruce has already told one embarrasing story about his parkour accidents during a gala, which made you laugh a bit. That made Dick stay a little more quiet in return, getting the hint that more of his teasing nature will be greatly regretted. Somehow, the table was mostly calm during the dinner. Most of the conversation was started by Dick or Bruce, some comments coming from Damian as well. Although, not the nicest.

Still, they managed to behave rather well. That was, until Alfred returned with some scrumptious looking dessert. After serving tea, the table tends to get more lively. Tim and Damian often bicker quietly about who‘s getting the next piece faster, however you try not to pay too much mind and not make it awkward. Jason on the other hand, stays seated by Dick‘s side and makes fun of the two younger brothers.

»No wonder you‘re both such fatasses.«

»Jason.« Bruce smiles at his second son, trying his best not to physically cringe at himself for needing to keep his sons under control in front of you.

You, however, don‘t really care much about the antics around the table. You‘ve seen way worse at a small children‘s birthday party, so this actually feels domestic, in a way.

»It‘s okay, father. We… are sharing this last cupcake.« Damian intervenes and seems tense as he cuts up the last sweet dessert in half. He makes sure to make one half bigger than the other and gives the smaller one to Tim. Luckily, Bruce feels more satisfied and relaxed after that and continues on sipping his tea beside you, at the head of the table.

After the nice dinner with his family, you try to help Alfred with cleaning the table up, but he kindly stops you and insists on doing it alone.

»I greatly appreiciate it, but I believe master Bruce prefers to have you all to himself tonight. I will handle this by myself.« Convinced, you leave the butler alone and make your way to Bruce, who just finished talking to his boys.

»There you are… let‘s head upstairs, darling.« His arm snakes around your waist as you walk upstairs to his master bedroom, getting some well deserved privacy after the long, hard-working week. Inside, he can‘t contain his feelings anymore and picks you up, just to throw you both onto his bed and curl up with you. The room fills with light giggles from the both of you, turning it into a play fight on the bed. It doesn‘t take long for Bruce to get hold of your wrists and pin you down under him, looking as smug as ever over his win. You continue to squirm and try to fight him, although you don‘t try to get away from him; just enjoying the playful moment. Finally, he gets to make your legs go still aswell, putting more of his weight onto you.

»Now, be good and stay still for a moment, hm? Wouldn‘t want to hurt my pretty girl...« You can hear him sigh out lightly as he leans into the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin before he gently bites down, leaving light marks. It makes you instantly relax, enjoying the way he manages to be so gentle and passionate at the same time. He also relaxes, finally feeling more comfortable showing his affection this way and simply keeps going, not wanting to end this yet. His bigger hand trails down your thigh, urging it to hook around his hip, seemingly craving more contact with you.

A light hum leaves your lips, tangling your fingers into his black hair, gasping lightly once he starts to nibble harder on your skin. It leaves goosebumps down your spine, shifting to wrap your other leg around him too. Suddenly, this doesn‘t feel so innocent anymore.

Bruce tries his best to hold back on a groan, eventually exhales shakily against you. He finally stops his gentle attack on your neck, leaning away to admire his handiwork. You take him in from your position, watching the way his eyes are blacked out and his breathing grew rather uneven. His eyes dart back to you, shifting so he isn‘t crushing you under his weight.

»I could never grow tired of this, you know?«

Bruce secretly cringes at himself for being so vulnerable, so open with you. But judging by your reaction, you seem to love it. The way your eyes soften even more, how you stay completely relaxed and peaceful under him is saying enough. Your hand reaches out to cup his cheek, bringing him closer again to exchange more gentle kisses between each other. The evening turns out in you both being relaxed and endlessly exchanging affection together, growing dissapointed once it gets late.

As you prepare yourself to put your coat back on by the front door, Bruce gets held back by Alfred.

»You know, she can always stay over night. One night won‘t hurt, master Bruce.«

But he doesn‘t relent and shakes his head, a light frown stretching on his face. »I don‘t have time for this, Alfred.«

As quick as he dismissed his butler, he is right back at your side and helps to adjust your sleeves from your coat.

»Let me drive you home,« You go along without argument and follow him outside to the garage, sitting into the passanger seat and let him drive.

◐

»Bruce! We got invited to our first ever premiere-movie-party-thing!«

You exclaim as soon as he picks up the call, making him exhale in relief. After a short pause, he asnwers back.

»Premiere-moive-party-thing? I gotcha,« he chuckles, putting finally closing the big folder on his desk after studying it for hours, »I‘m pretty sure it‘s because we‘re the lead actors of the whole thing… and you are the director.«

His casual approach makes you roll your eyes, rolling onto your stomach in your bed. »Yes, but isn‘t it cool? I never went to one, what is that like? Do you think it‘ll be filled with annoying rich people?« You start twirling your hair as you continue to talk with him, listening to his response with a light smile.

»They‘re alway filled with ‘em. I always get black-out drunk, so it‘s easier to deal with it. The music isn‘t the greatest as well… it actually feels more like a frat party sometimes.« His description of it makes you chuckle, making Bruce smile in return.

»So… do you think we should go there anyways?«

»Of course we should. Especially you, makes your image go up higher.« He replies back without thinking too much. It makes sense, and you don‘t think too much about going to that party. You heard they will be some interviewers, so you better not get black-out drunk.

◐

Arriving outside the tall building, the bass that‘s heard from inside is making you lightly

intimidated. Taking a deep breath, you say your last prayer and enter. In the lobby, you need to check in and get a colourfull wristband, signalling your status so the security knows who to protect in an case of emergency. The others can save themselves.

shortly after you, Bruce arrives and goes through the same check-in as you. He spooks you lightly by snaking his hand onto your shoulder, earning a surprised gasp and smack to his chest.

»Sorry… having fun already?« He leans down to be at your eye-level and sneak in a gentle kiss, but quickly decides against it and smoothly straightens himself again. Although, he keeps his hand on your waist.

»I don‘t know, nothing happened yet. And I don‘t know where the drinks are, I‘m kinda nervous,« you hold your hands out for him, letting him see the light tremors coming from your nervousness. He frowns lightly upon seeing your hands, taking them into his warm ones.

»You don‘t have to worry so much, okay? Just a small party, you‘ll answer some questions and we can leave. How‘s that sound?«

You feel more comfortable after his assurance and nod, restraining yourself from leaning into him and being more affectionate.

Eventually, the party starts properly after more actors and other public-figures arrive, turning the music up a notch. Currently, you‘re having fun and enjoy some sweet, alcoholic drinks, relaxing further and taking things easy. Following Bruce‘s advice of drinking definitely worked, and you soon have your first interview as one reporter approaches you with a camera man by his side. After getting permission from you, the camera starts rolling and the reporter gets started.

»We‘ve already seen some sneak-peeks and the trailer alone gives us so much insight on your chemistry with Andy, so… was it difficult to master such energy or did it come naturally?«

Typical question to try and suck some possible gossip from an actor, but you are greatly used to it, eventually giving him your typical answer back.

»Oh, you know, it really depends if the actors are good or not. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn‘t, so it really depends on both actors to create the right perfomance.« Definitely not the answer the reporter was searching for, but he‘ll settle with it for now. Robert starts again, angling his microphone back to himself.

»What was hardest on this movie? The directing or acting with your own expectations and critique?« A more pleasant question to answer. You respond honestly, giving an open insight of how stressful it really was, being both the director and actor in one.

Eventually, Robert seems to back down with his questions after five more minutes, starting to build up a more casual conversation with you. Logically, you can‘t really back down from it and simply go along, listening to him talk and speak aswell.

»...Yes— and your dress? Seriously, I couldn‘t take my eyes off you the whole interview, I don‘t know why there aren‘t a line of men standing right behind you, waiting for your attention!« You chuckle along, although a bit forced. »No, seriously, I love the way you look tonight. Who was your stylist, I should give her a raise,« Robert steps closer to you, wearing a charming smile, the best one he can muster. You stay still and simply try to joke along and bear it through for a couple more moments, eyes daring out to search for back-up.

»Would you believe that I was her stylist for tonight? All my work.« Bruce steps in, seemingly appearing out of nowhere into the frame and casually lays his hand back onto your waist, wearing a smug smile. Robert pauses briefly before he catches himself and gets back to being a ‘casual-playful‘ reporter.

»No way! I‘ll make sure to write that into my news report later.« The reporter awkwardly says goodbye after receiving a light chuckle from the other and finally shuffles away from the both of you, camera man following him closely. You can barely make out the way Robert scolds his camera man for something that was most-probably not his fault anyway.

»Next time just scream really loud, I‘ll be there in no time.« Without wanting to cause any unnecessary attention, he squeeyes your waist and eventually gets back to the party, searching for some more interviewers too. Without any further thinking, you go back to the bar and get yourself another drink. One drink becomes two, and you make sure to stay leaned against something in order not to lose balance. You settle on being more in the backgrounds for now, but you quickly change your mind once they turn on some up-beat music and free the dance floor. It‘s already packed with other famous people, them being drunk too, no doubt. They happily include you into the chaos, dancing however to the beat all-together. You slip in another few drinks and shots during that time, just enjoying yourself and letting lose. Finally, after what seemed like too long and not enough, you get yourself off the dancefloor to have a quick trip to the bathroom.

With wobbly legs and aching feet, you manage to get there and freshen up, feeling lighter afterwards, but also way more drunk than before. You try to make your wy back to the dance floor, but you briefly lose your sense of orientation and simply stand there, trying to figure out how to get back to the fun girls.

»Are we ookay to head back home, darling?« A smooth voice asks from your side and almost makes you roll your eyes, not recognising it right away.

»Bruce!«

»Hey��� yeah, that‘s me...« He chuckles softly, and catches you gently as soon as you lean in to hug him tightly. You feel the way his hands rub along your back before they stop at your sides and just keep you steady on your feet.

»Can we go now?« Bruce leans down to talk better to you, his breath brushing against you ear. You let out a soft giggle, leaning back and meet his eyes. It‘s clear to him that you will try your everything to at least get a last drink before driving home. As expected, you pout at him and glance back to the general direction of the dancefloor.

»No, darling, c‘mon...«

»Please?« You draw out and lean more into him, grabbing lightly onto his shirt. He takes you in, trying his best not to get distracted by your shiny eyes and cute behaivour, most likely trying to play it up for him. He manages to stay stubborn and shakes his head lightly, his expression growing soft.

»We have to go home, okay? It‘s too late and you‘ll regret it tomorrow.« He tries to be as gentle as possible, lightly rubbing your side with one hand. With a final huff, you slump a bit into him and give in. A faint smirk graces Bruce‘s face and carefully guides you out of the building, finally setting you inside the car with care.

The car ride was mostly filled with your yapping, being happy about the fun dances you had together with the strange women, still shining with excited energy, even after the party. Finally at your house, he takes care of you, carefully taking your make-up off before changing you into more comfortable clothes. You don‘t remember much after that, being out cold the second your blanket envelopes your form.

Waking up was the worst part. Your head pounds as if some gremlin is on top of it and slams a hammer onto you repeatedly. After sitting up, you realise that you are already in your fuzzy pyjamas and cleaned up. Not paying too much mind to it, you reach for your phone at your nightstand, almost knokcing off the glass of water on it. Surprised, you study your small table and pick the note off of it.

Hope your head won‘t kill you today. Cute pyjamas, by the way. -B.

←MASTERLIST

[lumosatnight]

24 Fic Recs 2024!

Another year of fics, another year of recs! I was so excited to make another rec list this year after hearing that @hprecfest was back, and I'm so glad I could squeeze one in before the end of 2024 (just barely oop). Here are 24 fics that I read and loved in 2024 (although some were written quite a few years ago) ordered by ship!!

🌼 - fluff | 💔 - angst | 🔥 - smut

—

💫 DRARRY 💫

1. A fic over 50k

Earthbound Spook by bmouse (cest_what) [Drarry, T, 57.6k] 🌼💔 Dimension travel! Gryffindor Draco! What more can you ask for?? A wonderful fic in the time/dimension travel genre. An oldie, but a goodie.

2. A smokin' hot fic

Now I Wake Up In The Night and Watch You Breathe by @hoko-onchi-writes [Drarry, E, 24.6k] 🔥📷 Listen up! This fic has stalker Harry absolutely obsessed with Draco and Draco being an absolute slut for it (even when he's non-consensually asleep) and it is is absolutely unhinged and I love Hoko for writing this masterpiece!! (but yes, check the tags first)

3. A series

I Was Early (You Were Early) by @dodgerkedavra [Drarry, E, 12.1k] 💔🎨 Beautiful, gorgeous. First Harry and then Draco's POV. A lot of angst and grief, but it is so worth it for the beautiful love story between Harry and Draco.

4. A romantic fic

Nectar by @jtimu [Drarry, T, 2.0k] 🌼🍯 Nothing says romance like Draco's animagus form immediately seeking out Harry. This @unleashed-fest fic is sugarey sweet. Draco as a hummingbird is a stellar idea!

5. The best of your OTP

Fine-Fractured Halo by @rainjulyx [Drarry, NottPott, E, 29.0k] 💔✨ A One Day AU where we get to check-in with Draco and Harry one day out of every year. Beautiful, wonderful angst. Each scene is a work of art. The emotions practically jump off the page, they're so visceral. An instant fave.

—

💫 COMMON SHIPS 💫

6. First fic you remember reading

Amateur Cartography by worksofstone [Dramione, T, 21.0k] 🌼🛏️ Dramione was my gateway into fandom, so I still have a soft spot for some of the classics. I particularly like the virgin!Draco trope, so this fic is a fave. I recently reread it, and it's just as cute and funny as I remembered.

7. A comfort fic

Rest Your Head Close to My Heart by pauraque [Harmony, M, 3.6k] 🌼🍼 Truly, Pauraque can get me to read anything, and this fic does not disappoint. There's breastfeeding and age play, but also so much love and understanding. The emotions are so beautifully written.

8. A fic that makes you laugh

Mating for Life - Breeding Season in the Highlands of Scotland by @sillylittlebeans [Snarry, E, 3.3k] 🔥👃 This fic is filthy crack and it is absolutely glorious. Alpha Severus and Omega Harry get a little mating action, and Dudley gets to watch them on TV. Perfect. Superb.

9. A fic rated E

Nothing Compares by @coconutice22 [Tomarry, Drarry, E, 11.4k] 🔥💐 Muggle AU with fiery Harry and obsessed Tom. I love their dynamic in this. Drarry make a brief appearance but it's Tomarry endgame. And, oh boy, is the ending worth it. The perfect (emotional) climax.

10. Rec a fic that was recced to you

In His Skin by Guessingguessing, translated by @direwolf-summer [Wolfstar, E, 3.2k] 💔🚬 I wish my Chinese was better because I would love to read all of Guessing's works in the original language, but Direwolf does a spectacular job translating all the angst, heartbreak, and pining into English.

—

💫 RARE PAIRS 💫

11. A fic from a favorite author

Teacups & Tankards by @schmem14 [Rosifoot, M, 9.6k] ☕🍺 I adore Em's writing. She always writes the most divine rare pairs! Here we have Puddifoot and Rosmerta navigating their businesses and feelings during the 2nd war. A beautiful look into some background canon characters.

12. A fic rated M

Bespoke by kelly_chambliss [Millinny, Minmina, M, 5.8k] 🌼👔 Kelly is one of my favorite rare pair writers. The way she captures the unique voices of her characters is simply brilliant. Here we have butch Millicent being guided by Wilhelmina into buying her first suit!

13. A fic under 5k

Confidence by @skeptiquewrites [Pansmione, E, 2.9k] 🔥👗Pansy is FIRE and Hermione is a BAMF. Of course, they're perfect for each other. I love the confidence they give to each other. And yes, they are HOT together.

14. An underrated fic

Rusty Crowns by @if-fortunate [Panstoria, Blansy, M, 28.5k] 💔💎 One of the best Pansy character studies I have ever read. Hands down. Pansy is fully fleshed-out. Sympathetic and spoiled. Suffering, stifled, and still the snotty pureblood we all know and love. Engame Pansy/Astoria but I love the inclusion of other relationships as she grows.

15. A fic for a ship you don't normally read

Second Chances by @emotionalsupporthufflepuff [Theocissa, E, 7.4k] 🔥🍦 I don't actually read a lot of F/M fic, but I couldn't resist MILF Narcissa. Theo is enamored and Narcissa loves the attention. A delightful EWE fic (and hot!).

16. Most recent fic you loved

Be a Good Lad by @maraudersaffair [Padtail, E, 3.6k] 💔🔥 I NEED MORE SIRIUS/PETER FICS ASAP!! Their relationship is so painfully complicated with dubious morality, questionable intentions, and forced secrecy. I absolutely adore it! It adds such a rich layer to canon.

17. A fic rated T

The Once and Future Headmaster by allthegoodnamesaretakendammit [Harbus, T, 17.9k] 🌼⏳ Time travel, pining, and neighbors to lovers. I don't usually read this ship because of the giant age gap (try 100+ years) but the time travel neatly subverts this by remixing the ages of Harry and Dumbledore. I loved reading their new dynamic in this!

18. A fic with fanart

Not Far From the Tree by @mallstars, @itsphantasmagoria [Scarry, Drarry, E, 1.5k] 💔🔥 This might be cheating because it starts Drarry but the endgame is Harry/Scorpius, and OHMYGOD this fic!! The complicated relationships, the pining, the smut, the ART!! This fic has it all, I am entranced!

19. A rare pair

Treasure by @the-miss-lv [Gramander, Thesewt, E, 19.5] 🔥🐈‍⬛ I love most of Miss Liv's Newt/Theseus works honestly, but this is so deliciously hot and sweet and depraved that I keep coming back to this one. Cross-dressing Newt, powerful Auror Percival, and a dash of incest. The perfect combo!

—

💫 POLY SHIPS 💫

20. An AU fic

A Developmental Approach by brightened [Snarrius, E, 69.8k] 🌼💔 A Harry raising Harry fic with time travel, polyamory, and healing (also there's a baby Voldemort too). Severus is wonderfully prickly while Sirius is boisterous and charming. Harry is the glue that holds them together.

21. A fest/event fic

Snowdrift by @wolfpants [Dronarry, E, 8.6k] 🔥❄️ Wolfpants is a smut master. We must all bow down. Established Dron 'comforting' Harry after his breakup in this @dronarryfest fic is so steamy. I am sweating, hyperventilating, screaming from the rooftops how good this fic is.

22. A holiday fic

Wrestle with Daddy by dirtywrongandwholesome [Barlouie, E, 491] 🔥💪 Have some Weasleycest, as a treat. Dirty, bad, wrong, and HOT HOT HOT. Charlie/Bill and then Charlie/Bill/Louis... mmmmmm. Much of the fic happens over the summer/winter holidays so I'm counting it as a holiday fic.

—

💫 GEN 💫

23. A fic that makes you cry

Family Ties by Nope [Andromeda, T, 1.7k] 💔🖤 Snippets of Andromeda's life as she navigates the war, marriage, kids. The focus on her family and their tumultuous relationships is heartbreaking and incredible.

24. A podfic (and a fic)

Eternal Return by silverpard, read by @wilfriede [Harry, Tom | Voldemort, T, 27min] 💔💀 One of my long-time favorite fics in the time loop genre. Wilfriede brings it to life with Harry's inner voice as he grapples with doing things for the greater good.

—

💫 BONUS RECS! 💫

A fanart

What in Merlin's Name is That by @stazvlt [Luther, G, Digital] 🌼🦆 One of my rare pair OTPs and I cannot believe Shiaya drew them. Lucius is besotted with Arthur, of course, even if he doesn't want to admit it. This art is so silly and cute and I adore it with my whole heart.

A self-rec (because why not?)

In 5 Years by @lumosatnight (me) [Anthony/Astoria, T, 2.0k] 🌼💔 A reverse timeline love story with MCD, falling in love, and a meet-cute (in that order). I really enjoyed the alternate format of the fic and weaving their story together through snippets of their life.

—

⚡️ Want more fics to read? ⚡️

Try my rec tag: #lumosinthelibrary

Year in Reading, b-day oneshots, WLW Library

[sufferu]

Found your blog, and must say this: I love it! I adore your ideas and aus so, so much. They scratch the itch I have wanted scratched for a while in the re:zero fandom. I wanted some good, delicious Subaru angst and you have delivered the perfect meal :)

If it is possible, may I ask what exactly has pulled Anastasia towards being so protective of Subaru in both No Refunds and Dogshow? Is it mostly because she has concluded Subaru is mentally disabled? Or has the thought that Emilia has failed in every way as a liege to Subaru helping drive her to want to course correct? It seems to have struck a particular chord with her, and it’s one of my favorite elements of these aus. (And if I can be so bold, but if she shares her theories with others, do others believe she may be on the right track?)

Either way, I love your aus and hope you have a grand day!

Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying it!

The main reason Anastasia is so protective of Subaru is actually pretty simple: her perception of Emilia’s “failure” as a liege lord personally offended her. Anastasia is the kind of character who takes concepts like status and personal responsibility VERY seriously, when it comes to both other people and her own self. Whether Emilia really chose it or not, she IS currently a prospective heir to the kingdom, and as such she has certain responsibilities to those she wishes to rule over, especially when it comes to the people who have already sworn to follow her, and ESPECIALLY when said followers are so few that you could count them on one hand, and also they all live in the same house as her. Anastasia sees this as Emilia both having very important and very easy to fulfill responsibilities that she just watched her completely fall on her ass in front of, and she got OFFENDED by it.

It does not help that Subaru has, honest to god, been trying his best. He’s not the BEST worker, and he’s got a lot of problems, but by god did Emilia stumble upon someone who would be willing to follow her to the ends of the Earth like a dog, and she’s SQUANDERING it. Anastasia is probably looking at all of the things Subaru is doing wrong that first day and thinking of all the ways she could train him out of all of those bad habits before they become a real problem, because it probably wouldn’t even be that hard. He’s so easy to read and predict that it’s almost painful, but that means that developing a strategy to actually address it would probably not be hard at all, especially since Subaru WANTS to please Emilia. From Anastasia’s perspective, it was a combination of Emilia’s failure to train him and failure to prevent him from getting traumatized by HER OWN STAFF that led to a completely avoidable incident at the Royal Selection that her own knight had to step in and save him from, and then Emilia responded by punishing Subaru for doing exactly as he had unknowingly been trained. And no, it does not help that Subaru does genuinely come across to her as someone who probably has a mental disability preventing him from understanding when he’s in a dangerous situation in the first place, OR that Subaru is the kind of naive, kind-hearted idiot who would be ridiculously easy to take advantage of and therefore could really benefit from someone actually looking out for him (which Anastasia firmly believes really should be Emilia’s job).

A lot of characters have opinions about Emilia’s role in this whole situation, but Anastasia is the only one who goes THIS FAR with it. She’s also the only one who thinks the Royal Selection Incident was almost entirely Emilia’s fault, because most of the other characters still do see it as ultimately Subaru’s fault, even if saying that makes them feel uncomfortable because clearly this situation was waaaay more complicated than it initially came off, and so it might have been slightly unreasonable to expect someone like This to react in any other way to that situation. I wanted to have a character reacting to this whole Return By Death situation from the lens of the hierarchical social norms in which Re:Zero takes place, and as someone who is very high status, taking her role VERY seriously, and has a history of impressing the importance of hard work and responsibility onto other characters, Anastasia kind of took up that lens perfectly.

[bedouinpoet]

PERMISSION

Aaron Hotchner x BAU Reader,

its a slow burn but hope you like it feel free to leave a comment. Pls be nice, my first ever fan fic (18+ only please) more to come.

y/n = your name

y/l/n= your last name

You never thought your wish to join the BAU would ever come true. It always felt like some kind of pipe dream for someone with so much baggage like you. The agreement was clear you never mention your past to this team and you get to work for the FBI rather than prison. You still remember the first day you came into work, JJ, the communications liaison introducing you to everyone at the round table. “Guys this is y/n, Agent y/L/n-“ “please just call me y/n” you quickly interrupt, she smiled understandably and nods “agent y/n is our newest member of our little family, y/n this is Agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Dr Spencer Reid, Agent David Rossi, technical analyst Penelope Garcia and last but not least our unit chief and team lead agent Aaron Hotchner” “just Hotch please” you felt your toes curl as every inappropriate thought crossed your mind the moment you shook his hand and he smiled at you with those melted caramel eyes

3 months later…

You all just got back from yet another gruesome case, family annihilator with a fetish for kids underwear as trophies. ‘Fuck sometimes there really is no punishment harsh enough for these guys’ you think. You are one of the last ones in the office, Reid just left asking if you needed a ride. “Nah I’ll get a taxi later I need to finish the last of this case file” Admittedly that wasn’t the full truth, you could easily finish this tomorrow even at home in your office in your apartment but…Hotch… Hotch was still here. You've had a crush on him since the first day. But…what would you be to him? You always thought as a fucked up 23 year old coworker and subordinate. You’re pretty sure he even tried to set you and Reid up on a date. You’re glad of that in a way. Even though absolutely nothing happened and you aren’t into each other in that way (and he knows about your crush). You ended up becoming best friends. Second only to your girls JJ and Pen. But you know Hotch and he won’t leave here until someone drags him out which has been your job of late. Especially since Haley filed for divorce and he signed. It’s like the guy lives here now. You keep glancing up at Hotch’s office until you finally see your opening as he closes a file, taking a deep breath, rubbing his eyes and leaning back in his chair putting his hands over his head. Damn, every move mesmerizes you. You close your file and stuff them in your bag. Taking your leather jacket and head up. You knock lightly on his door, his eyes snapping open “y/n? What are you still doing here?” “Same as you ya workaholic come on I need a ride. Would you mind?” His confused eyes and eyebrow scrunch, he looks out to the bullpen like he’s avoiding this drive. “Jeeze haha if you don’t want to you don’t have to Hotch I just don’t wanna get a cab right now but all good-“ he quickly sat up. “No no I’ll drive I should probably head home….get some sleep and-“ “call jack” the words leave your mouth before even thinking. His face fell in offence. “Excuse me agent?” Agent, you notice he only ever says agent like that to you when you’re in trouble and damn does it make you wet. “Sorry! I-i-i just meant. Well. (Sigh) look this was a rough case and I know especially when it comes to cases with kids, calling jack-o-lantern puts a smile on your face….grounds you” his face softens and you see his half smile brighten the room and your heart pounds, he laughs lightly when you mentioned his sons nickname you gave him. “I never understood where you got that nickname for jack” “cause he’s a kindred spirit that loves chocolate and Halloween like my fine self duh. Now call your kid I’ll wait in the bullpen till your ready handsome-“ he immediately looked up “what?” “What?” He shifted in his chair and your heart pounds, fuck you get to conformable around him. “You called me handsome” why do you keep letting things slip. You clear your throat trying your best to be as nonchalant as possible despite every part of you heating up “yea? Your point. Just stating truths boss now dial” Hotch smiles at you again but this time….something about the glint in his eyes is different as if he is considering. You try to shake it off. Telling yourself to calm down. The second you sit back down you see Hotch laugh on the phone. You smile to yourself. You were right jack o lantern helped….

“yep just park here my apartment is just ahead but parking sucks” He parks the car and takes off his seat belt, gets out and opens your door. Always the gentleman and he does it like muscle memory. Ugh perfect you think. “I can carry my own bags ya know? I’m a big girl sir” you whisper the the end of your sentence like calling him sir is a secret. Hotches jaw clenched as you winked “and I’m a gentleman. Shall we?” Every door he opened for you. You both get into the elevator, your go bag in hotch’s big hands. The moment the doors close all you can do is stare at his hands, imagining how good Hotch could pin you to the wall and kiss you so hard until you beg for air. Even one of those hands could pin your hands on top of your head. You swallow hard as your mouth gets dryer and you can already feel your knees weak and your panties dampen. You don’t realize how long you were staring at Hotch’s hands but apparently too long “is everything alright y/n?” Fuck he stares at you, his eyebrows stern but his eyes show genuine concern and confusion. Fuck. “Y-yea sorry was just day dreaming” he smiles “anything good?” “Pshhhh wouldn’t you like to know” his eyes darken with a hint of confusion as horrified realization crosses your mind as what you just admitted. Shit. “I-I- just meant, I mean it wasn’t anything in particular” Hotch nods as the elevators doors open, he lets you pass first as he walks behind you. You get to your door as you pat your pockets searching for your keys. Hotch stands deadly close behind you. “Ugh just pin me against the wall” you think trying to shake away the thought as you find your Keys only to drop them in front of you “dammit” you whisper and bend over quickly, forgetting how close behind you Aaron really was. You feel his front pressed against your ass as you grab your keys and hear Hotch take in a sharp breath and his pants bulge slightly. Your panties are near soaked with ideas of what this man could do to you. But he steps back clearing his throat. “Sorry” you stumble, grabbing your keys off the floor and quickly unlock the door and step inside. He takes only a step inside and hands you your bag. Your entire body shivers from the touch of his hands. “Thanks boss. Ever the gentleman….would you wanna come in? Don’t have much for drinks but got coffee and lemonade-“ “no thank you, it’s pretty late I-we should get some sleep. We have an early day tomorrow I’ll see you in the office. Goodnight y/n” “night Hotch and thanks again” He says nothing but smiles in reply and nods as he walks away. You could see his hands clenched, white knuckled as he presses the elevator button. You shake off the itching hope that there was something more between you two. You don’t even bother eating, can’t even think about food. Instead you go straight to bed, stripping off everything and taking your vibrator from your night stand. You lay down bringing your hands to your breast, pinching you nipples imagining it’s Hotches big calussed hands, no matter how hard you try to think of anyone else the only person you can think of to cum is Hotch, fucking you dumb, his lips on your skin trailing up and down your body, his hands rough and grabby. You feel your orgasm arising closer and closer until all you see is spots as you cum all over the toy. You take a deep breath wishing you didn’t just have yourself and the TV to go to bed too. “Welp… at least I can go to sleep.” You say to your empty apartment. Little did you realize Hotch was thinking of your ass rubbing against his cock in the shower that night. Pumping himself frienzied as he fantasizes about bending you over in that shower grabbing your hips and fucking you until his cum spills deep inside you….

the next morning was brutal. Another wet dream but no time to help yourself. “Dammit I’m late!” You call a taxi as you rush to get dressed. Struggling to find a clean shirt as you forgot to wash your laundry last night the only shirt remotely appropriate for work being your red deep v neck that’s a smudge too V and says ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good’ “thank you Harry Potter” -and a pair of cargo pants. “Fuck it” you put it on and tuck in the shirt at least trying to look put together packing a few things in your go bag, guns holstered and your badge in pants pocket you book it out of there…

you make it to work out of breath and five minutes late. Everybody already waiting at the round table. “Sorry sorry couldn’t get a taxi-“ “it’s fine agent y/l/n just don’t let it happen again” Hotch’s eyes stop on your shirt as Morgan laughs “up to no good huh pretty girl? Wonder what that means…” he winks you laugh and sit down next to him touching his shoulder “oh honey, you couldn’t handle what it means” you high five Emily and wink at pen and jj when “it’s from Harry Potter” pen and Spencer say at the same time “Ha I know y’all aren’t the only nerds you know” you tease Reid as Morgan leans in “working some magic huh nerd.” As he fist bumps you. “Please let’s continue-“ you don’t even realize Hotch is staring daggers in you and Morgan’s direction jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. Dammit he’s pissed about you being late you tremble. “Sorry-“ “let’s continue” is all he says. “Right we are heading to New Orleans my lovelies. At an opera house called Garnier-“ “like phantom of the opera?” Reid and you say at the same time “jinx! You owe me an iced coffee” he laughs “don’t you have one right now?” “You can never have enough coffee my child” you smile and wink at Reid “amen to that” Emily nudges me

“anyways there has been 3 deaths all at this opera house. All men, first was George Shepard the building manager, he got quite the beating in his office, the second Alex Miller he was props manager, similar injuries and the third was Jake Townson who was hung. The police question if it’s really a suicide-“

“that doesn’t make any sense” you say thinking out loud as you all do. “What do you mean y/n?” Garcia’s innocence seeping out of her adorable face “well look at the first two victims, beaten, the neck broken, that says anger, then hanging ? No bruises no prior beating? That’s more of what you see with mercy killers it doesn’t add up” Hotch stares at you intently anger slightly subsiding looking at you even when Morgan talks in agreement his eyes pierced you and you look away feeling your cheeks heat as you break eye contact to look down at the file. “Whatever the reason and whoever it is it’s clearly connected to this opera house and with his cooling off period we don’t have much time before another victim …wheels up in three hours….y/n in my office please” you swallow feeling you are about to get hell for being late….again. You really need to fix that alarm clock.

You follow Hotch into his office “have a seat” you swallow hard as he closes the door and stands in front of of you leaning on the desk, arms crossed, his face scrutinizingly serious “sir I know I’ve been late I promise I’ll do better and-“

“what is your relationship with Agent Derek Morgan?”

His interruption stopped you in your tracks. He leaned further back and crossed his legs and his pants creased at the most torturous places. Fuck your basically eye level with his crotch as you wish you were on your knees his hands grabbing your hair- “agent…I said what is your relationship with Agent Morgan?” You swallow as you look back up at Hotches face and you swear as you do his hands tense and his jaw clench’s….”I asked you a direct question agent” you shake off your hormones for a moment and reply “I’m sorry but I don’t get what you mean? There is no relationship other then friendship?” He scoffs “you seem awfully flirty with each other for just friends. You are also co workers and that was extremely unprofessional behaviour do I make myself clear?” All, of a sudden the hormones jumps out the window as all you can see is red anger “excuse me?” Your tone shocks Hotch but he quickly recovers “yes?” Fuck his ability to be so calm you think to yourself before saying “I am sorry but I find it awfully weird that you are lecturing me for something the ENTIRE TEAM does? Fuck sakes Morgan calls Pen Baby Girl on a daily? Flirting non stop. We make jokes about Reid’s love life. fuck sakes I flirted with prentess and JJ in passing but all of a sudden my behaviour is inappropriate-“ Hotches arms fall as he closes his fists tightening “are you saying you do it because everyone else does? That’s awfully childish and I expected better” at those words all reserve goes out the window and you become a bull just seeing red “excuse me!? How dare you. I am an equal member of this team AARON HOTCHNER. Yes I may be the youngest but that gives you no right to speak to me in such a manner as such I do not have to explain myself when I have done nothing wrong. I have worked my ass off for this team and this job.” Anger filled tears swell your eyes but fuck it you already started “I have assisted in solving how many cases? I have given everything to this team and deserve more respect then you have just displayed. So speak to me when you want to apologize for YOUR behaviour Hotchher” Without even thinking or considering you march out of his office. Your entire body on fire with anger and shaking, leaving Hotch standing dumbfounded as you slam his door. Rossi steps out from his own office “everything alright kiddo?” His hand out for support but even that doesn’t stop you “I’m fine Rossi see you on the plane” With that you leave as everyone watches you grab your go bag and jacket and leave.

….

On the plane Hotch sits at your usual corner window seat, avoiding all eye contact with you but you don’t care. You fought so hard for this job, crush or not you aren’t about to let anyone talk like that to you. The rest of the flight passed with further discussion about the likelihood of the unsubs gender and age, until you all were about to land “unfortunately it’s too late to go to the station detective Monroe says he will see us tomorrow morning so it’s off to the hotel my lovelies” Pen came with you this time as the team needed her in person and looking through every camera in the opera house to see what everyone might have missed and that’s the job for your girl PG. the drive to the hotel passed well as you drove with Reid and you in the back and Morgan and Em in the front. When you got down to the hotel you were all laughing but your smile faded as you saw Hotch get out of the SUV behind you, his own smile fading at the sight of you. You shake off the feeling and turn as Morgan takes your arm and Penelope’s come on naughty girls there is a nice bed and cool mini bar with my name on it.” You all laugh and you slap his arm looking back at Hotch to make sure he saw that as you enter the hotel. “Um sorry agents there are only four rooms available this week” you hear everyone behind you groan and sigh in frustration as all of a sudden “I ain’t bunking with Reid” minute Morgan says that Pen holds Morgan’s arm “dibs” with that, you all burst out laughing and before you could try and pair off with anyone. Emily and JJ pair off and Reid with a sly smile says he will bunk with Rossi who almost protested until he saw Reid’s face. Hotch and you stood awkwardly until “very well y/n and I will room together, here is all of your rooms keys, see you all at 7 am” everyone nods and disperses as you lean down to grab your bag, Hotch grabs it off the floor without even looking at you. “Shall we?” “Uh thanks” you shyly try and tuck in your hair behind your ear as you head to the elevator where JJ and Emily squeezed in, everyone on the same floor, when you all get to the floor and about to open your hotel room door you look in time to see JJ and Reid wink at you as you flip them off. You step into the room Hotch right behind you clearly confused “what was that for?” As you enter the room you notice how small it is one bed, one sofa, desk and coffee machine and bathroom. Fuck one bed, that’s an issue you’ll have to figure out in a minute. “What was what for?” You ask pretending to be oblivious “y/n….you just flipped off at JJ prentice and Reid? Why?” “Why does it matter are you going to lecture me on how childish and inappropriate it was? I’m off the clock boss” The anger beginning to roll back in but you stop when Hotch drops the bags harshly on the floor. His glare scrutinizing, his eyebrows so furrowed you could barely see his eyes, he remained quite. You roll your eyes feeling like a teenager but replying “inside joke that’s all…sir” you end your sir with more of an attitude then expected. Aaron just shakes his head “y/n that’s enough…I AM your boss my question about you and Morgan was valid I do need to know what is going on with my agents as it affects this team-“ he had a point and you can’t help yourself but soften your body tension as Hotchs face also softens, before you can say anything he continues “however…as you stand you have more then earned my respect and ….and trust…and I am sorry for my comment it was out of line and I hope we can move past this and focus on this case.” His eyes became almost pleading and every harsh feeling you had towards him melted away, your knees almost giving out as he licks his lips. You were getting horny again and too tired to fight. Taking a deep breath “I’m sorry too…friends?” You stuck out your hand as he looks at it momentarily and relaxes as he grabs it with a smile “friends” he keeps his hand in yours a moment longer with a light squeeze as a tension fills the air until he lets go you almost whimper with the lack of warmth from his hands. He clears his throat

“Right um…would you like to take a shower first?” You shake your head “nah I’ll take one in the morning you go ahead” he smiles “great thanks” he went straight to the bathroom you grab both bags and put them on the sofa as you change into your sweats and t shirt attempting to tie up your almost shoulder length short hair, strands falling on your face. You take out the files and the copy of phantom of the opera you bought at the airport placing it all on the bed as you hear the shower go on. You try not to picture a soaked naked Aaron Hotchner and concentrate on the case…it barely works and you get uncomfortably wet but before you can even try to help yourself the shower goes off so you fully concentrate on the files. As the door opens you finish writing your notes not looking up “Hotch! I think I figured out what’s been bugging me about this case I did a quick once over on the phantom of the opera and-“ you stop somehow out of breath when you look up and see Hotch walk closer in nothing but a towel hiding what you are dying to see. You sit up gaping. You’ve pictured him shirtless yet this was somehow hotter then you even expected, his messy hair, his body still dripping, his chest with perfect amount of subtle hair. You think how good holding him would be, lying your head on his chest, sitting on his lap and removing the towel. You don’t even realize how long you’ve stared at Hotch but he blushes, his ears going pink and he looks away and back “sorry…I forgot my pajamas ….but….um…you said there was a connection?” His face going back to agent hotchner face and with that and shirtless was a mix you could barely handle. “Right!” You shake off to the best of your abilities looking down again as he sits on the side of the bed looking attentively at you as you keep moving the hair from your face. “So I mentioned that the hanging was weird ? Well I think I know why the unsub did it, he’s following the plot of the book buts he’s making it somehow more violent.” “How so?” His head tilts his curiosity almost adorable but you can’t stop thinking about the towel. “Well umm” you take a deep breath but nope your horniness is getting worse and wetter “could you put some clothes on please”

you laugh breathlessly, his confusion evident but blushes “sorry “ he whispers and you swear your heart melts “no no it’s just….your dripping on the files and my book” you try to lighten the mood as you lie and look up moving your hair from your face again. You need a hair cut. But your answer seems to calm him “oh right” he smiles “right sorry just give me a second” he went to his bag grabbing some sweats and a shirt and went to the bathroom. Coming out moments later with his deadly grey sweats and white tshirt….you can’t help but wish he was shirtless again but lord have mercy those sweats you think. “So you were saying?”

“Right so the first two victims fits with the first two characters in the book. The two managers however in the book…the two managers only get their legs broken by the opera ghost. Not their necks. It’s not till the third in the book which the character hangs himself Hotch…I think our unsub sees himself as Erick the opera ghost he most likely has some deformity and lack of social skills like the character and…HA that’s it ….tomorrow we need to ask Garcia for the original plans of the opera house the unsub probably lives there we need to do a search and fast.” Hotch never interrupted you, he listened and waited and watched you then took a few notes “right. Good work y/n I’ll get Garcia to get the plans tomorrow and a list of anyone born around 25 to 35 years ago with a severe face deformity around the area he is probably local.” You can’t help but smile you always feel overwhelming sense of pride when you crack a part of the case. You smile at Hotch but the way he looks back makes you have butterflies all in your stomach and chest, he reaches over and moves the hair from your face, your toes curl at the touch “really good work y/n” he whispered, every part of you loses control as you grab him by the shirt and kiss him.

you move back in absolute shock and fear when you see shock in his eyes “fuck I’m sorry I’m so sorry” you get up “y/n”

“I need a coffee” you interrupt before he rejects you

“y/n stop!”

Too late and you didn’t go back until 3 am waiting in the downstairs bar beating yourself up. You quietly sneak to the bed. Ugh fuck Hotch for being so hot and good you think as you see he slept on the couch lightly snoring away. The second you put your head on that pillow you pass out. Hotch moves your hair back “you did really good y/n well done” the tension rises as he moves closer, his hand cupping your cheek you lightly moan as you lean into his touch, kissing his palm, he groans “fuck it” as you give him the pleading eyes and his lips smash into yours. It feels so good as he warms your entire body, laying you down as he goes on top of you, moving his hand down caressing then grabbing your breasts slowly pinching your nipples between his callused thump and forefinger, you arch your back up pushing into his body even more feeling his bulge between your legs. He groans as he takes his chance opening your mouth wider with his tongue, kissing deep as you wrap your legs around him, even with those grey sweats on you can feel his hard on as you grind up, moaning you feel yourself getting so wet even from that friction he bites down at your neck “fuck y/n baby what am I gonna do with you-“ he whispers in your neck.

you wake up to your phone alarm, hotch just getting up from the sofa as he looks up at you blushing and then averting your eyes ‘shit, did I moan out loud?’ You blush just thinking about it but he says nothing “uh….morning boss” is all you can muster up to say, he smiles “good morning y/n sleep well.” You blush further closing your legs somehow terrified he will know how wet you are even under the blanket, “yup you? Why did you sleep on the couch?” You try not to look up at him as he looks unbelievably hot in the morning, his clean hair cut messy with bed hair, “seemed right in case you wanted to sleep on the bed I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable”

“ever the gentleman”

he smiles and it seems you don’t need to even use words to agree that the kiss never happened and it was best to forget it even if you couldn’t. “If you just let me wash up quick and such then the shower is all yours and I’ll go downstairs and wait for you so you can get ready, if that’s alright?” You think it’s adorable that’s he’s asking as if you could say no “of course” you get up and get your clothes ready digging in your bag to take out your black lace bra and thong, cargo pants and black dress shirt, you hold up the bra and panties just as Hotch steps out of the bathroom and the sight stops him dead in his tracks, his eyes darken, jaw clenched as he starts to breath shallow and quickly licking his bottom lip as if all of sudden his mouth is dry. “I-um-I -you can shower now” maybe it was how much you enjoyed seeing how flushed and flustered you made him or the fact you’ve never seen him that way, or maybe it was the dream or sleep deprivation or all of the above but you were feeling confident and adventurous as you lift the bra to your chest and the thong to your hip giving him a mischievous smile that makes his eyes go almost entirely black “you like? Got it for a date that no showed but damn glad he didn’t, may have ripped them off their nice don’t you think?” He licked his lips as he swallowed heavily like it was a struggle, for once you finally made this man speechless until “what date? When?” You giggle “Jeeeze Hotch I asked you if you like my bra and panties and THATs what you ask first?” His expression turns serious, almost angry, dare you think jealous. For a moment he were actually scary and damn did it turn you on. “That’s not an answer” you shrug “I dont remember, his loss is another’s gain huh?” You wink as you move past a completely flustered Aaron Hotchner “I’ll be quick handsome” dam you really are pushing it today but his reactions only fuel your urges.

…

the case continued and after that morning your adventurous side simmered down and you regained your shyness and professionalism especially looking at all the dead bodies on the board. But since the morning Hotch has been different. Always near you, every car ride he made sure you rode with him in the passenger seat, when you split off you were always paired off with him. Now you and your team had the unsub surrounded, hiding in the shadows of the large set on the main stage of the opera house, you and Hotch took the front, responsible for the negotiation. Emily and Morgan went to the back and Reid and Rossi took both sides. “Lucas!” You shout “Lucas Sanderson! Come on hun we have you surrounded” you and Hotch slowly get up on the stage, flashlight and guns raised as a noise came out near you, metal clanging “Lucas FBI- come on hun I know why you did it but times up come out with your hands raised” it happened too fast, the unsub came crashing down on top of you, you struggle for your gun as Hotch pushes him off you, there was a struggle as Lucas got a hold of your gun facing it directly to Hotch . It was like time slowed your heart pounding out of your chest, no time to think you run pushing Hotch out of the way as you hear a gun shot. You and Hotch are on the floor and immediately you both sit up, looking each other over for any injuries, then you see Lucas on the floor, blood trickling down from the back of his head, Em’a gun facing him “everyone okay!?” A wave of emotion flows through you like a storm and you don’t even know what to say when Hotch replies “yea, we’re good” but were you? As Hotch said those words his glare never left you he was furious and he remained glaring with absolute anger and …something else you couldn’t place. You averted his gaze. Morgue, ambulance, and drive to the hotel later.

“we will sleep here tonight and leave for home first thing in the morning, you all worked hard well done rest up everyone” as Hotch speaks he keeps his eyes set on you “thank god I am exhausted hotel bar here I come” Morgan smiles as the team laughs as Emily says “maybe I’ll join this was brutal….you sure your good y/n?” Her genuine concern and care warms your heart you smile heartedly “I’m fine Em really, drink up and have fun for me I’m way too tired, goodnight babes” as you hug each other and part. You and Hotch go into the elevator alone. He hadn’t said a word. “Urrrm are you okay sir”

“don’t call me that”

he doesn’t look at you just straight ahead “what?” You try and think what you possibly did for him to be so angry “don’t call me sir” the elevator doors open and that’s when you feel his hand on your elbow gripping your arm with a deadly grip he marches both of you to your room “Hotch what the fuck!” Is all you can let out as the pain turns into something more horny but you try and ignore it “shut up” is all he says. He opens the door slamming it behind the both of you and practically throwing you when he lets go. “HOTCH what the -“

“what the hell were you thinking y/n!?” His yelling voice damn near throws you back but you stand your ground as you see his face as serious as ever, eyes furrowed, arms crossed and his tie slightly ajar, his tone the same as his reprimanding voice but somehow even angrier. “What are you talking about?!” He tilts his head as if he can’t believe you don’t know what he is speaking of “you push yourself in front of an armed suspect!? What the hell were you thinking agent!? What if prentess didn’t get there on time!? That was reckless! You could have died!”

All of sudden anger boils over you as the storm of emotion inside of you begins to break the dams you try to keep up “what!? I was doing my job SIR! What exactly are you mad at here? Lucas Sanderson has a gun ON YOU!? What the fuck did you want me to do!? Let you get shot!?” Tears stream down your face at the very idea of seeing Hotch hurt “YES! Better me then you!” He shouts even louder his voice becoming dam near terrifying but you held your place if this is when it all comes out so be it “I WOULD RATHER DIE THEN SEE YOU HURT AARON HOTCHNER” tears and full on cries followed as your answer takes Hotch aback. He stands in shock as the tears fall. you continue “if you are going to reprimand me sir for doing what I did, do so SIR but I won’t apologize for…for…for loving you and not wanting to see you hurt!” You are almost out of breath by the time your done anger being replaced by fear that you just ruined your relationship with Hotch for good and maybe lost your job when Hotch says quitely you barely hear “how…how do you think I feel?” You couldn’t understand the question couldn’t feel anything other than your heart pounding in your ears. “You think I could ever see you get hurt? Do you have any idea how fast I felt my heart break then and there I could barely breath when I thought you-you- you were shot. I couldn’t- I’d rather have died then see you shot I couldn’t I -“ you didn’t think, your head was spinning and your heart filling with overwhelming care. You stopped thinking as you grab at his tie pulling him down to your lips and kissing him, this time no hesitation “y/n” he groans “shut up and kiss me Aaron” the moment he hears his name from your lips he grabs you like he owns you and no one else in the world, he turns you around pinning you against the door, you moan into his mouth as his tongue directs the kiss and he bites your lower lip “Aaron” you moan deepening the kiss and grabbing the back of his head raising one of your legs and wrapping it around him “fuck…say my name again sweetheart say it” he groans as he kisses down your neck and biting down “Aaron! Fuck yes please please” he growls as you lightly pull his hair then turning your hands down and rubbing his cock over his pants, even with his dress pants in the way you can feel how large the bulge is, he groans as he lifts you up and takes you to the bed.

laying you down with such force he practically throws you on the bed like he’s been waiting for too long to do this, he stands taking off his tie as you unbutton his shirt, he stands in front of you shirtless as you kiss up and down his body right on top of his belt you look up and smirk at him pleading. He growls “strip. Now” you can’t help yourself and your bratty nature when you reply “make me” the moment you say it you are glad as he grabs your neck putting his thumb on your bottom lip “do you really wanna be a brat and play this game sweetheart?” The sexy threat in his voice makes your legs shiver and your panties soak. His eyes go feral as you suck his thumb and reply “what do you think sir?” He watches mesmerized as you lick his thumb his breath hastening as you put your hands on his belt but grabs both your hands with one of his “not yet baby” the way he smiles at you calling you baby his hand still on your neck got you so wet you felt close even from that. You had to close your legs tight as you squirm “Aaron- pls please sir” he smiles “please what y/n? Tell me what you want” his hands grabbing you harder “you” that was enough to release any hesitation Hotch had as he crashes his lips to yours this time even rougher biting your bottom lip until it bled licking you up like the only air he needed was you, kissing and biting down your neck as he rips open your shirt throwing it to the side then your bra. Trailing his mouth down to your nipples kissing one then the other grabbing both and growling and groaning as if it’s the best sight he has ever seen “you are gorgeous” he whispers as he bites on one of your nipples and pinching the other, you grab his hair for support as your legs shake “AARON yes yes please sir please more” he begins to unbuckle his pants his mouth never leaving your body as he stands back up. You immediately slide off the bed on your knees in front of him “baby what are you-“

“shhh, what I’ve been craving for months sir”

at that he groans and you feel his whole body shake and tense at your touch rolling his head back as you push his pants down, he smiles down at you as you sit absolutely flabbergasted at his size almost scared and even more turned on “what’s wrong?” He asks caressing your cheek “fuck you’re huge”

you both laugh as his eyes darken once more and he smirks “think you can handle it?”

He moves your hair away as you look up with a smirk “that was never in question sir” with that you don’t hesitate as you lick his tip then begin to slowly deep throat him entirely the moment you do Hotch’s grip on your hair tightens as he moans curses over and over and “fuck yes” loud enough for you to be proud that your causing him this much satisfaction. You use your hands and mouth together pumping deeper and deeper not caring how sloppy you looked spit down your chin moaning as he pulls your hair hard and begins to fuck your mouth, his legs getting shaky you finally stop just for a moment looking up at Aaron. “Fuck y/n you look so beautiful you have no idea how bad I wanted this , to feel that pretty mouth, but I need to feel your pussy now”

without warning he lifts you onto the bed like you were a doll, taking his pants completely off and going on top of you. You feel his weight, his warmth his body on top of you and you spread your legs wide for him as he adjusts himself and you both moan together as he rubs your clit with his thumb and enters his tip inside you. you swallow hard “please Aaron” he smiles into your mouth “beg for me sweetheart” you obey without hesitation “please Aaron, please I need you, I need your cock inside me I can’t take it” he started slowly putting just the tip in and out at a torturous rate he pulls your hair so you look up at him “are you sure y/n? Truly. Y/n if it gets too much you tell me understand ?” You nod whimpering as you start to wrap your legs around his waist scratching down his back “please sir, Aaron please fuck me how you want me give me everything” “fuck-“ he growls with that final permission he needed he thrusts his entire cock deep.

you scream how good he filled you as he grunts “fuck your tight fuvk” he thrusts into you with a mission harder and harder you grab on to him for dear life as he grabs one of your hands and pins it down on top of your head interlacing his fingers into yours and grabbing hard as he pushes into you deeper you feel yourself almost give over when he moans in your ear “yes baby fuck”

he thrusts upward hitting your g spot like a pro who knows your body better then anyone else, making your legs shake, he hits that spot over and over moving his hand down rubbing your clit as you grab on to him once more for dear life scratching his back. “Fuck Aaron yes please I’m going to cum please !” You feel your senses overwhelmed you “that’s right babe cum for me let go” he thrusts into you harder and faster at an impossible rate as you feel the coil break and release washing over you as you clench his cock. Hotch grabs your hand again as he gets close thrusting, groaning your name over and over as you feel his cum deep inside you.

both of you are out of breath as he stays on top of you for a while, you wrap your arms around him as he digs his face into your neck. In that moment you would happily stay forever. As he slowly stands up you whimper at that loss of heat, he smiles at the sound “I’m coming right back baby just grabbing a washcloth” he leaves to the bathroom coming back he cleans between your legs gently kissing your thighs. He throws the cloth to the side and lays you down and wraps his arms around you as you lay your head on his chest. You feel so at home it hurts. And it terrifies you. There is no question why he is the unit chief of your team when he asks “are you alright?” His concern growing in his chocolate eyes, “hmm? Oh yea I just….Hotch what does this mean? I know I said I love you but I don’t want you to feel like….i don’t know….like you have to say it back or be with me-“

“I love you y/n - I have loved you for months now I love everything about you. How kind and clever you are, how you always try to make sure everyone on the team is doing well even if you are hurting, you give without a second thought, you care and love with your whole heart. I love you I was just scared. I mean y/n I’m over 20 years your senior not to mention your boss”

“that doesn’t matter “

“doesn’t it?”

“no…I want you. You want me, together we will figure everything out. I just got you I don’t want to lose you.”

He looks down at you eyes filled with emotion, naked emotion. “I love you y/n y/l/n you have all of me” you kiss him “I love you Aaron Hotchner. I’m all yours”

[draxxton]

Noona

Kim Jiyeon(Bona X Male Character)

TW: Incest,Smut

(Hi guys, I'm new in writing so I took little help of AI, hope you guys will understand and this one is totally unedited so please ignore my spelling or grammatical mistakes)

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

In the Winter cold streets of Seoul, Jiyeon navigated the crowded streets with a sense of urgency. The chilly autumn air nipped at her nose as she hurried through the throng of students and office workers. At twenty-eight, she carried herself with the poise of someone who had seen more than her fair share of life's hardships, yet her eyes held a spark of resilience that shone through the fatigue. With a quick glance at her watch, she sighed. She was running late again.

Jiyeon, known to her friends and family as Bona, had spent the morning preparing breakfast for her younger brother, Woo Bin. He was still asleep when she had left, a mountain of blankets obscuring his form in the small, shared apartment. At nineteen, Woo Bin was a typical teenager, caught in the whirlwind of college life and late-night gaming sessions. But to Bona, he was her responsibility, her pride, and the reason she pushed herself to the brink every day.

Her workplace, a small English language school tucked between a convenience store and a dry cleaner, was a place of refuge from their past. The students' eager faces and the steady hum of conversation filled the air with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold outside. Bona had worked here for the past five years, teaching eager minds and piecing together a life for herself and her brother. She had studied hard, juggling part-time jobs and her education to ensure they had food on the table and a roof over their heads.

As she approached the school, the smell of coffee and freshly printed textbooks greeted her. The door chimed as she stepped inside, and she was met with the familiar sight of her colleagues preparing for the day ahead. A pang of guilt twisted in her stomach; she knew they relied on her, and she never wanted to let them down. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was drowning in responsibilities, her own dreams slipping further and further away with each passing day.

"Bona, you're here," Miss Kim, the school's director, called out from behind her desk, her voice a mix of relief and reprimand.

Bona offered a quick, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for the delay. Woo Bin's alarm didn't go off again."

Miss Kim raised an eyebrow but said nothing, her expression a silent acknowledgment of the struggle Bona faced daily. Bona hastily hung her coat and grabbed her lesson plan from the neat stack on the counter. The other teachers exchanged knowing glances, some offering sympathetic nods. They had seen her come in late more times than she cared to admit, her dedication to her brother often spilling over into her work life.

The first class of the day was a group of middle-aged businessmen eager to improve their English for international dealings. As she stepped into the classroom, Bona took a deep breath, pushing her personal worries aside. She knew she had to be a beacon of energy and knowledge for her students, a role she took very seriously. The room was already buzzing with conversation, and she felt a flicker of excitement as she began to write on the board.

Woo Bin was a constant reminder of the sacrifices she had made. Their parents had abandoned them when they were young, leaving Bona to fend for herself and her little brother. But she had never let the weight of that responsibility crush her spirit. Instead, she had turned it into fuel for her drive to succeed. Her students, too, had their own struggles, and she found solace in knowing she could help them navigate the complexities of a new language, opening up opportunities that she had once only dreamed of for herself.

After a long day at work, Bona's feet ached as she stepped off the crowded subway, the cacophony of the city fading to a distant murmur as she approached their apartment. She juggled a bag of groceries with her work bag, her thoughts drifting to the dinner she would prepare for Woo Bin. It was the least she could do after another hectic day. She had promised to make his favorite dish, spicy stir-fried pork, to celebrate his recent victory in a college soccer tournament.

_______________________

"Noona, you're going to be late again," Woo Bin called out, his voice echoing through the small apartment they shared.

Bona, with her hair still wrapped in a towel, hurried into the kitchen, her eyes scanning the counter for the coffee pot. She found it half-empty and groaned. "How can you drink all the coffee again?" she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Woo Bin looked up from his phone, his mouth full of toast. He shrugged, flashing a mischievous grin. "You know I need it more than you," he teased.

Bona rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She poured herself a cup, the warmth and aroma offering a brief reprieve from the dreary morning. She took a sip, the bitter taste reminding her of the long day ahead. Teaching English to a class of rowdy high school students was no small feat, but she loved it. It was her escape from the weight of the world.

As she finished getting ready, she couldn't help but steal glances at her brother. His carefree spirit was infectious, and she often found herself wishing she could be more like him. Woo Bin had a way of finding joy in the simplest things-like the stray cat that had taken a liking to their building or the latest episode of a ridiculous reality show. She, on the other hand, was always so serious, burdened by the responsibilities that came with being the eldest.

But lately, Bona had noticed something different in her feelings for Woo Bin. It was a sensation that made her heart race and her palms sweat-feelings she didn't quite understand. She'd catch herself staring at him, her mind wandering to places it had never been before. She knew it was wrong, that society would never accept it, but she couldn't shake the emotions that seemed to be consuming her from the inside out.

"Noona, you okay?" Woo Bin's voice brought her back to reality. He was looking at her with concern, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah," she said, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

But as she walked out the door and into the crisp autumn air, she couldn't help but wonder if she was lying to herself. The weight of her secret grew heavier with each step she took, the world around her a blur of color and sound as she tried to push down the unspoken truth that threatened to shatter the life they had built together.

__________________________

After another hectic day of work Bona came back home. When she opened the door, the aroma of something sweet wafted towards her. Surprised, she dropped her bags and stepped into the kitchen to find Woo Bin standing over a mixing bowl, a spatula in hand. His eyes lit up when he saw her, a smear of flour on his cheek. "Noona, I made cake!" he exclaimed. It was a rare sight to see Woo Bin cook anything, much less bake. He was usually lost in his world of comic books and video games, so the sight of him donning an apron was a delightful change.

"What's the occasion?" she asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"No occasion," Woo Bin shrugged. "Just felt like doing something nice for you. You work so hard."

Jiyeon felt a warmth spread through her chest. "Thank you, Woo Bin. That's so thoughtful." She stepped closer to inspect the cake. It was a simple vanilla sponge with chocolate frosting, but it looked perfect, like something from a bakery. "It smells amazing," she said, inhaling deeply.

The next few days, Woo Bin continued to surprise her with little acts of kindness. He would leave notes in her lunchbox, telling her to have a good day, and when she came home, the apartment would be spotless. One evening, as she sat grading papers, he played her favorite songs on the guitar, his voice a soft melody in the background. The way he said "Noona" was starting to feel less like a term of endearment from a younger brother and more like a pet name from someone who cared deeply for her.

One weekend, they decided to visit the park together. The sun shone warmly on their faces as they strolled along the path, sharing stories and laughter. Woo Bin pointed out the blooming cherry blossoms, and without thinking, Jiyeon reached for his hand. It was a natural gesture, one she had done countless times before, but this time it felt different. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt his warmth, and she looked up to find him looking at her with a peculiar expression. He didn't pull away, and their fingers intertwined as they continued walking.

On the way home, they stopped by a small street fair. The air was filled with the sound of laughter and the smell of sizzling street food. Woo Bin suggested they try their luck at the ring toss game. After a few failed attempts, he finally won a stuffed animal. He handed it to her with a proud smile, and she couldn't help but think how much he had grown since their parents had left them. His carefree attitude was a stark contrast to the solemn young boy she had raised.

That night, they decided to watch a romantic comedy, something they hadn't done since their childhood days. As they sat side by side on the couch, the warmth of his body radiating against hers, Jiyeon felt a newfound comfort in his presence. Whenever the couple on screen shared a kiss, she found herself glancing at Woo Bin, his eyes glued to the TV, a slight blush on his cheeks. It was as if the movie was mirroring the unspoken feelings growing between them.

One evening, while preparing dinner, Woo Bin playfully spoon-fed her a bite of the stew, insisting she taste his latest creation. The simple act was filled with so much affection that it made her heart flutter. She couldn't ignore the gentle way his eyes searched hers for approval, the way his smile grew when she praised his cooking. The word "Noona" rolled off his tongue with a softness that made her feel cherished, and she found herself craving the sound of it.

As the days went by, Jiyeon found it increasingly difficult to suppress her growing feelings. Every time Woo Bin called her "Noona," it felt like a sweet caress that echoed through her soul. She would catch herself staring at his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to feel his warmth against hers. Yet fear clutched at her heart. What if she was the only one feeling this way? What if her love was one-sided and her brother only saw her as the responsible guardian she had always been?

Their bond grew stronger, their interactions filled with an unspoken understanding. Woo Bin started to notice the way she looked at him, the gentle touches that lingered a second too long, the blush that crept up her neck when they were close. He was confused by these new feelings but couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him whenever she was near.

One rainy afternoon, while they were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie, the plot reached a romantic climax. The couple on screen shared a passionate kiss, and Woo Bin felt his heart race. He glanced at Jiyeon, her eyes glued to the screen, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, his heart pounding in his chest. She froze, then turned to look at him, her eyes wide and questioning. He searched her gaze, trying to gauge her reaction.

For days, she had been fighting an internal battle, her thoughts torn between her love for Woo Bin as a brother and the new, uncharted feelings that had started to bloom. Every time he called her "Noona," she felt a warmth spread through her, tinged with a longing that she couldn't quite understand. She had always been his protector, his caretaker, but now she craved more.

Jiyeon tried to focus on her work, teaching English to her eager students, but her mind kept drifting to the quiet moments she shared with Woo Bin. The way his eyes lit up when he understood a difficult concept, the way his laughter filled the apartment when they watched movies together, and the comforting weight of his head on her shoulder as they fell asleep after a long day. She felt guilty for her thoughts, but she couldn't help the way her heart raced when he was near.

As the days turned into weeks, the rain grew less frequent, but the tension between them grew stronger. She found herself dressing more carefully around him, hoping to catch his eye, and cooking his favorite meals in an attempt to bring them closer. Each time she called him "Woo Bin," she felt a strange thrill at the sound of his name on her lips, and when he called her "Noona," she wished he could see the blush that painted her cheeks.

Bona would often find herself lost in thought during her English lessons, the words on the textbook pages blurring together as she pondered over the potential consequences of her feelings. She knew that confessing her love to Woo Bin could shatter the bond they had carefully built over the years, but the thought of living a lie was becoming unbearable. Her stomach would tie in knots at the mere thought of rejection, and she would spend countless nights lying awake, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain outside, wondering if he felt the same.

The apartment they shared had become a minefield of emotions, every corner holding a memory of their shared past and the unspoken tension of their present. The silence grew heavier, charged with unspoken words and unacknowledged glances that lingered a second too long. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and the sweetness of their mother's old perfume, which she had discovered in a dusty box in the back of their closet. It was a bittersweet reminder of the love they had been denied, and the love that now threatened to consume them both.

Bona felt the burden of her secret weighing on her like a boulder, straining her relationship with Woo Bin. She knew she had to be careful; one wrong move could shatter the delicate balance they had maintained for so long. Yet, every time she saw the way his hair fell over his eyes as he studied, or the way his smile grew shy when she praised him, she felt the urge to reach out and brush away the lock, to tell him everything that was in her heart.

The rain had become a constant backdrop to their lives, a symbol of the tumultuous emotions they both held within. Each drop that fell outside seemed to echo the unspoken words between them. Every time she saw Woo Bin's fingers trace the spine of a book or the way he bit his lip in concentration, she had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss him. The thought of his soft lips against hers was a temptation that grew stronger with each passing day.

Her fear of rejection was a heavy burden that weighed on her shoulders, a fear that she couldn't shake off even when the world around her seemed to be moving on. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if the love she had nurtured as a sister was met with disgust or confusion? The thought of losing him was more than she could bear, but the desire to be with him was a fire that burned within her, growing stronger with every shared smile and every comforting touch.

One evening, as they sat together in the living room, the silence between them was palpable. The rain had stopped, leaving behind a serene quiet that seemed to demand their attention. Woo Bin looked up from his book, his gaze meeting hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a spark of understanding in his eyes. Her heart raced, and she leaned in slightly, the distance between them closing like the pages of a book she had read a hundred times but never quite understood until now.

The hesitation grew heavier, a tangible force that seemed to push and pull at her. What if he didn't feel the same? What if she had been reading too much into their shared moments? The fear of losing him was a cold hand around her heart, but she couldn't ignore the warmth that spread through her body every time he was near. She took a deep breath, her eyes searching his, looking for any sign that would tell her it was okay to take that final step.

Woo Bin closed his book, his eyes meeting hers with a softness she hadn't seen before. "Noona," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've noticed that something has changed between us." The room felt as if it was spinning, the air thick with unspoken truths. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as she nodded, unable to form words.

"I've felt it too," she managed to say, her voice trembling. "But I'm afraid. What if this isn't what you want?"

Woo Bin reached out and took her hand, his touch sending a jolt through her body. "I've felt it, too, Noona," he confessed, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. "But I don't want to lose you. You're all I have."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and for a moment, the world stopped. Bona felt as though she was teetering on the edge of a cliff, the winds of doubt and fear pushing her closer to the precipice. She knew that she had to be honest with him, no matter the outcome. She couldn't live with the secret anymore.

With each day that passed, the distance between them grew smaller, their gestures more intimate, their conversations more loaded with meaning. Yet, she remained cautious, not wanting to push him away. She knew that once she confessed her feelings, there would be no going back. They would either be bound together by love or torn apart by the very bond that had kept them afloat all these years.

One evening, as they sat on the couch watching their favorite TV show, a romantic scene played out on the screen. Bona felt a pang in her heart, wishing she could share such moments with Woo Bin. The laughter from the show filled the room, but the silence between them was deafening. Her hand inched closer to his, and she could feel the warmth of his skin. She took a deep breath, her heart racing like a wild horse in her chest.

Woo Bin glanced at her, his eyes filled with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine. He reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. The simple gesture was like a declaration of his own feelings, and she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. The hesitation was still there, but it was now mixed with hope.

Without another word, Bona leaned in, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed her lips to his. His initial surprise melted away, and he returned the kiss with a passion that left her breathless. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer as their mouths moved in perfect sync, exploring and tasting each other with a hunger that had been building for months. His hand found its way to her hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers in a silent promise of what was to come.

Woo Bin's hand slid down her back, cupping her ass, and she moaned into his mouth, the sound sending a jolt of desire straight to his cock. He had dreamed of this moment, of feeling her body against his, of hearing the sweet sounds she made when she was lost in passion. He broke the kiss, his eyes searching hers, looking for confirmation that this was what she truly wanted. The love and need in her gaze was all the answer he needed.

With trembling hands, he unbuttoned her blouse, his lips tracing a path down her neck as he revealed her lacy bra. He gently unhooked it, freeing her breasts, and took one in his mouth, rolling her nipple with his tongue. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he knew she was his, that she felt the same all-consuming passion that he did. They stood up, their bodies entwined, and she reached for his belt, her hands shaking with excitement. He helped her, his own need growing with every second that passed, until his pants fell to the floor, revealing his hard cock.

He stepped back, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, half-dressed and beautiful. "Noona," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "are you sure about this?"

Bona nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she whispered, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "I love you, Woo Bin."

Woo Bin's eyes searched hers, the weight of her confession sinking in. He felt a rush of emotions, love, and longing that he had never experienced before. "Noona," he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion, "I love you too."

Their kiss grew more intense as they stumbled towards her bedroom, the need to be closer overwhelming them. She pushed him onto the bed, her hands exploring every inch of his bare chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath her fingertips. He reached up to pull her down on top of him, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces that had finally found their place.

Woo Bin slid his hand down her back, his fingers slipping into the waistband of her skirt. With one swift motion, he pulled it down, revealing the matching lace panties that left little to the imagination. His cock throbbed with anticipation, and she could feel it pressing against her through the fabric of his boxers. She kissed him again, her tongue dancing with his as she fumbled with the button of his shirt. He helped her, his own hands shaking as he peeled it off, revealing his toned abs and the trail of hair that led down to the waistband of his pants.

He slid his hand into her panties, his finger brushing against her wet pussy, and she moaned against his lips. He stroked her gently, feeling her body respond to his touch. Bona reached down and took his cock in her hand, her eyes widening at the size and heat of him. She had never felt anything so alive, so vital. He groaned into her mouth, his hips bucking upward, and she knew he was close to the edge.

They kissed with an intensity that seemed to burn away all the years of restraint, their tongues dancing together as their hands explored each other's bodies. Bona pulled away from his mouth, her breath coming in short gasps, and looked into his eyes. "Woo Bin," she murmured, "make love to me."

Woo Bin nodded, his eyes filled with a fierce love that made her heart race even faster. He slid her panties down, exposing her bare pussy to the cool air of the room. He took a moment to drink in the sight of her, the soft curves and the sweet scent that was uniquely hers. He slid a finger inside her, feeling her wetness, and she gasped, her body arching towards him. He added another, then another, his thumb circling her clit as he watched her face contort with pleasure.

Bona could feel the orgasm building, her body tightening around his fingers, but she didn't want to come yet. She wanted to feel him inside her, to know that they were truly one. She reached down and pulled his boxers off, his cock springing free, thick and hard. She took him in her hand, stroking him gently as she positioned herself over him. She slid down, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her, and they both groaned in unison.

Their movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust a declaration of love and need. Bona's eyes never left Woo Bin's, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the emotions play across his face. His eyes were filled with love and passion, and she knew that this was right, that this was where she was meant to be. She leaned down and whispered into his ear, "Cum inside me, Woo Bin. Make me pregnant with your child."

Woo Bin's eyes widened at her words, the reality of what they were doing hitting him like a ton of bricks. But the love in her voice, the desperation in her plea, was all he needed to hear. He picked up his pace, driving into her with a fervor that left her breathless. She could feel him getting closer, his cock swelling inside her tight pussy, and she whispered sweet nothings in his ear, urging him on.

"Noona," he groaned, "I'm going to cum."

Bona nodded, her own climax approaching like a wave crashing against the shore. "Cum inside me," she panted, the words a desperate plea. "I want to feel you fill me up."

Woo Bin couldn't hold back anymore. With a guttural groan, he thrust deep into her, his cock pulsing as he released his load, filling her up with his hot seed. Bona's eyes rolled back in her head as she came, her body shaking with pleasure. She felt complete, as if she had found the missing piece to a puzzle she had been searching for her entire life.

They lay there, panting and tangled in each other's arms, the sweat on their bodies mingling like their emotions. "Noona," Woo Bin murmured, his voice still thick with desire, "I never knew it could be like this."

Bona couldn't agree more. The love she had felt for him as a sister had transformed into something more profound, more intense than she could have ever imagined. She had been holding onto her secret for so long, afraid of what it could do to their relationship, but now that it was out in the open, she felt lighter than air. "Me neither," she whispered, pressing her forehead against his. "But I'm so glad it's you."

Woo Bin kissed her again, his hands roaming over her body as if he couldn't get enough of her. He slid down the bed, his mouth tracing a path down her neck, across her collarbone, and down to her breasts. His tongue circled her nipples, teasing and sucking until she was arching her back in pleasure. He kissed his way down her stomach, his hands pushing her thighs apart. "Noona," he murmured, "you're so beautiful."

He kissed the inside of her thighs, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. He could feel her pussy getting wetter with every touch, and it was driving him wild. He slid a finger inside her, feeling her tighten around him, and she gasped. "Woo Bin," she whispered, her voice a soft plea. He knew she was ready, so he positioned himself between her legs, his cock poised at her entrance.

He pushed into her, inch by inch, watching her face contort with pleasure. "Noona," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and love. She felt so warm, so welcoming around him, and he knew that this was where he belonged. They moved together, their bodies in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge. "I love you," he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers.

Bona's heart swelled with happiness at his words. She had always loved him, but now, she knew that their love had grown into something more. Something that she had never dared to hope for. "Woo Bin," she breathed, her voice filled with emotion, "I love you too."

They kissed again, their tongues exploring each other's mouths with a newfound hunger. Woo Bin's hands roamed over her body, caressing her curves and memorizing every inch of her. Bona felt like she was melting into him, their bodies fitting together as if they had been made for this moment.

"Noona," he murmured against her lips, "I love you."

Bona felt the world around them fade away as she leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of his touch driving her wild. She didn't know if she could handle the intensity of her emotions, but she knew she had to try. She kissed him back, her tongue sliding against his, and she felt a jolt of electricity run through her body. Woo Bin's arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, as if he never wanted to let her go.

__________________________________

[maxdibert]

I also think that many of the people who hate Snape, are hardcore Snaters, and are in the Marauders fandom are kids? Like, literally, it’s like walking through a minefield dodging underage people who explode every two seconds, and it turns out they’re not even 18 yet. I mean, in that case, it doesn’t surprise me that they see Severus as a horrible or evil adult because, at that age, anyone over 25 seems ancient to them.

I think about Severus being 31 at the start of the series, and now that I’m 28, I’m like, how can we say anything about him? He was practically still a kid! Like, an adult? Who’s really an adult at 30? No, please! I still don’t even know how to file my taxes properly, and I cry when I mess up using the washing machine, and you’re expecting a character three years older than me to have full mental maturity? What do you think your thirties are? Your fifties?

Honestly, one day you’ll be over 25, and your life will be a mess, with no future prospects, stuck in mediocre jobs that don’t cover a mortgage, with more responsibilities than actual life, and you’ll understand Severus Snape better. I have no proof, but I have no doubts either. He’s not a character meant for kids to like; he’s a character meant to make adults feel understood.

[szoboobszlai]

THEY DON’T KNOW ABOUT US

word counter: +1,8k

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x physiotherapist!female reader

warnings: none!

author notes: hey everyone! first of all, i just wanted to wish you a very happy new year; 2024 was absolutely amazing for me, and having your notes and feedback on my writing is something that really made me grateful, so, THANK YOU!

this is a new part of my one direction lyric-based writing series, that you can find here. also, click here for my full masterlist.

liverpool football club has always been more than just a job for you. as the team’s physiotherapist, you loved every moment, every pass, every win and loss. it was your place, your purpose. but what you didn’t expect was that football would bring you face to face with a completely different kind of challenge.

trent alexander-arnold. his name echoed in your head constantly since he started being your patient. the young player, with an impressive skill, an unwavering dedication to the team, but also a quiet, enigmatic energy, something you always noticed but never dared to explore.

it all started with an ankle injury trent had. the need for more intense care meant you were the one who treated him most often. the physiotherapy sessions became moments of conversation that went beyond what was necessary; you talked about games, the team, the season’s expectations… but slowly, you started sharing more than just that.

“do you really think this injury is going to take us out of the title race?” trent asked one day, as you applied ice to his ankle, his brown eyes meeting yours.

“you’re strong enough to overcome this, and you know liverpool needs you.” you said, smiling at him, trying to stay professional, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel there was more to it. “you can’t give up now, trent.”

he laughed, a genuine smile that made your heart beat faster. “you know, you always talk like you’re our mental therapist, not just the physical one.”

“i am, i am.” you laughed back, trying to push the growing tension between you both aside.

but, in your hearts, you knew it was more than just a professional relationship. with every touch during the treatment, every furtive glance, the connection grew stronger. you couldn’t deny what you were feeling, but you both knew that something so delicate needed to be kept secret. what would people say about a physiotherapist and a football player being involved? the club, the teammates, the fans… no one would understand.

the view of his smile echoed in your mind when you thought about what was beginning to grow between you two — you had shared so many moments, but never in front of others. on the field, he was the icon, the standout player. you, just the physiotherapist who, with skilled hands, helped the team stay on their feet. but when you met in private, away from the curious eyes and microphones, it felt like the world was too small for the two souls that had found each other.

it was on an autumn night, after a hard game, that the tension between you two finally overflowed. liverpool had won, but trent, still exhausted, was feeling the pain in his legs. you followed him to the locker room for one last check, knowing he was in good shape, but also aware of how physically affected he might be.

after the treatment, you found yourselves alone, a rare moment in the busy routine of training and games. he looked at you, his brown eyes deep, locking with yours. the silence between you both grew heavy.

“y/n…” he began, his voice low, hesitant. “i need to tell you something.”

you felt your heart race, the professionalism you always maintained starting to waver in the face of the intensity of the moment.

“i have something to tell you too.” you smiled, trying to stay calm, but the anxiety took over you. you both knew what was about to happen. you were about to cross the thin line between what was acceptable and what was risky.

trent took a step closer, his hands now intertwining with yours. “they don’t know about us, y/n. no one knows how real this is.” he moved even closer, until your lips met for the first time, softly, like a silent promise.

the kiss was quick, but it was etched in your memory. it felt like time had stopped. but when you pulled away, the world started spinning again, and you were back in reality: you were hidden.

“i think we need to be careful,” you whispered as you pulled back slightly, trying to breathe.

“i know, but i can’t act like it’s not real anymore.” trent said, sincerity in his eyes. “i need you, y/n. but if this is too much for you…”

you interrupted him, smiling at him. “i need you too. but let’s keep this between us. just the two of us.”

in the following days, the tension grew in a different way: the chemistry between you was more visible than ever, but no one spoke of it. you and trent continued with your routine, keeping up the professional facade in front of everyone else. but with each meeting, each furtive glance, the connection between you two grew even more. you were being careful, trying to hide what no one could know.

this is how things had to be. a secret shared only between you two. when trent felt weak, you were his strength. when he won, you were there to celebrate, silently, always by his side, but never visible to others.

and even though the outside world didn’t know, you both knew what you had. a love no one could understand, but that remained strong despite the external pressures. a love that, no matter how much the world tried to ignore, was unbreakable.

and maybe that’s what made what you had even more special. the secret you shared in the glances and the silences. you both knew that, in the end, what mattered was what was between you. and that, no one could ever take away.

[flock-of-cassowaries]

So I’m not endorsing Fight Club - it’s a problematic book with a deeply toxic cultural legacy - but as a queer AFAB millennial who grew up in the sunken place of really wanting to identify with images of traditional masculinity… that shit rocked my world circa 2006.

And it just occurred to me how easily you could map Fight Club’s core plot conceit* onto NBC Hannibal (especially season 1); and that got me thinking about the parallels and differences between these two works.

Spoilers for a 28-year-old movie below the cut.

*the core plot conceit of Fight Club is that the two principal characters - the charismatic and dangerous Tyler Durden, and the story’s unnamed narrator - are in fact one person. The narrator is not aware of this until the final act.

(Also - I’ve added headings, because I know this is very long and rambly, and I feel an appropriate amount of shame about that. )

[How this idea originally occurred to me]

So what originally got me thinking about this is that in NBC Hannibal, Will is always tired, while Hannibal, mysteriously, seems to have at least 40 hours available for crafts and hobbies in every day.

This maps very neatly onto the way time seems to work for Tyler Durden, vs. how it works for the insomnia-plagued narrator.

[Main thesis]

But there’s a lot more similarities than that - most notably, the overall arc of the narrator-Tyler / Will-Hannibal relationship:

1. Both Hannibal Lecter and Tyler Durden breeze into our main character’s lives, and very quickly install themselves at the very centre of it.

2. Both become an object of unacknowledged homoerotic yearning for the main character, before finally being revealed to be extremely dangerous villains who were manipulating the main character all along, and who were instrumental in blowing up the main characters’ lives.

3. Ultimately, in both works, the main character ultimately rejects their “friend” by attempting suicide in a way that will kill both of them (and, in doing so, stops the “friend” from committing further harm).

[Bonus Round]

Other parallels include:

- that Hannibal and Tyler are both exceptionally ostentatious in their mode of dress, in contrast to our comparatively mousey main characters.

- that they both serve to invite the main character to embrace violence (something the narrator in Fight Club does easily, but which Will Graham, to his credit, resists).

- Hannibal’s ritualized sadistic physical torture of Will (in Mizumono, and the again in Dolce / Digestivo) also mirrors the scene in Fight Club where Tyler burns the narrator’s hand.

- Hannibal and Tyler also both enter the main character’s lives at a time when they are struggling with insomnia based on guilt related to their jobs. (Jobs, btw, where both of them have bosses they cannot stand and do not respect.)

[Alana Bloom and Marla Singer]

I also think the Marla Singer / Alana Bloom parallel is interesting.

In both cases, these women are implied to be the only woman who might, possibly be a match for the main character - someone who could possibly understand them enough to form a possibly-healthy relationship.

Instead, however, Alana and Marla end up forming relationships with Hannibal and Tyler (respectively).

In both works, this makes the main character despair (even as it is implied that the woman would actually rather be with the main character than with Hannibal / Tyler).

[Bonus Round II - Electric Boogaloo]

Also, on a more superficial level, both Marla and Alana have stunningly pale skin and dark hair (much as both Tyler and Hannibal are sandy blondes who seem larger-than-life in comparison to our dark-haired, ruddy-complexioned protagonist).

I would also like to rapidly recognize:

- the aesthetic similarities in Randall Tier’s death and that of Jared Leto’s character in the film version of Fight Club

- the amusing parallel of both Tyler and Hannibal creatively repurposing dead human tissue, which they then gleefully give to rich people who do not know what they are consuming (Tyler, by making medical-waste human fat into bougie soap; Hannibal, by making murder victims into gourmet meals)

- the way that the “the line between us has begun to blur” theming in Season 3 of Hannibal echoes the “literally the same person” reveal in Fight Club

[Conclusion]

With all this in mind, I think it would be very possible (and potentially quite fun) to plot out a Fight Club AU of Hannibal, wherein there is no Hannibal Lecter. (Might explain why he has such a stupid fucking name. Yeah, I said it. It’s fucking dumb that his name rhymes with “cannibal”. Fight me, Thomas Harris.)

[Appendix - Contrasts]

That said, the differences are also quite notable:

1. Whereas Tyler Durden seduces the narrator in Fight Club with the promise of validation from a male social group, Hannibal Lecter’s pitch to Will is that he recognizes that Will is is unique and special, and appreciated him as such.

2. Tyler Durden is overtly political, positioning himself as outside the system, and explicitly anti-capitalist. Hannibal Lecter, on the other hand, is apolitical, and perfectly comfortable being a member of the ruling class. There is no anti-capitalist motive to his crimes against the rich.

3. In rejecting Tyler, the narrator in Fight Club (especially in the film version) symbolically reclaims his heterosexuality, and is implied to have formed a bond with Marla; whereas Will Graham (literally) embraces Hannibal even as he rejects him, and Alana has long since been clearly shown to have adopted a position of “To hell with these gay idiots”.

4. While imperfect, Will Graham is a lot more sympathetic than the narrator of Fight Club; both because of how vigorously he resists Hannibal (as alluded to above), and in terms of what we see of him before he falls under Hannibal’s spell:

— Will’s guilt stems from an action (shooting Gareth Jacob Hobbs) that most people would consider morally-correct. In Fight Club, on the other hand, the narrator’s guilt stems from condemning strangers to die in order to save his company money.

— The narrator in Fight Club is shown to have been driven by his insomnia to the point of engaging in vampiric support-group grief tourism (which - yikes). By contrast, Will is seen calling Jack Crawford out on the inherently exploitative nature of his “Evil Minds Museum”.

— Whereas the narrator in Fight Club lives a life of hollow consumerist grasping, Will is shown to live a materially-simple life, which he generously shares with a menagerie of abandoned dogs. It is easy to imagine that he would put his dogs’ needs ahead of his own, given that we see him putting time and energy into rescuing and washing Winston, even at the end of a long, exhausting workday.

[Postscript]

I literally typed this whole-ass essay out before I remembered that Edward Norton (who played the narrator in Fight Club) also once played Will Graham (in the 2002 film Red Dragon, which I have not seen, but which I remember Bryan Fuller having credited with giving him the idea to write NBC Hannibal).

[deesseshesca]

PAC : How will your pregnancy go ? (18+)

PILE 2

PILE 2 

P H Y S I C A L

9 pentacles (reverse), 7 pentacles

First people here suffer from OCD, BPD or maybe bipolar disorder (depression can also be it). Just so you know it is going to get better. So much. Y’all are going to reunite with your soul tribe and the love of your life but when the pregnancy news will fall on you I see you slowly sinking from your partner perspective. The news will welcome you in a period of your life where you lost someone extremely dear to you. I see y’all trying to find another pile, because why get better for it to get worse. Why experiencing any good and love when being broken is inevitable ? Listen here ! There’s so much happiness you deserve to feel. So many people that need to meet you. The same way you are capable of accepting others for who they are and see their strength, a group of people can’t wait for you. You are hurting them without knowing by giving up on yourself. There's so much you haven't experienced, so many people you haven't loved and your future kids you haven't met. One day you are going to have so much more happy days over bad days. Humans tend to die when they are 80 years old, and you are going to let 20 years define your prime. I understand baby shit aint easy. Reading this makes it feel like it aint worth it but honestly the only thing that makes any of my reading worth it : is y’all. Until you don’t find the worth in yourself there is nothing I can say or the Universe can give you. So yes, you will lose somebody dear but you are still going to have your found family, the love of your life, your dream lifestyle and your baby. Did you see the change in perspective ? Does it not make it all more worth it ? You don’t even understand how prettier it is going to get. After your doctor appointment, your husband is going to hire a helper at home ( but actually their job is to keep their eye on you). Your husband may write your resignation letter because you are literally the zombie of yourself. You are going to hate seeing yourself. They are going to hide every mirror otherwise you will break it on sight. I have a vision of you doing your morning routine with the maid behind, no mirror on your vanity. You will spend hours sitting on your bench in the garden. Slowly but surely you will build a relationship with the maid. Is going to change you. Finally accepting your pregnancy and actually loving your baby. Slowly stopping being disgusted with yourself . Is going to have an impact on your husband … don’t worry they wont play the victim but is going to hurt them. To see you, losing yourself again. They will stay trying to hug you, kiss you, sit at the table talking with you even though all you do is nod and give one syllable answer. First semester : hermit mode, second semester : baby step out, third semester : happy again. Thanks to your support system. They are going to be here for you and your husband. I see your husband opening up to your bff and his homeboy and them allowing a safe place for him to vent so he can come back to you and be the man you need him to be until you are ready to be yourself again. I see your homegirl texting you even when you don’t answer. Even when you make plans and don't come, even when you don’t warn them you won't be there. They are not mad, they will actually send you flowers and fav snacks hoping to see you next time.

MORE LOVE ...

[villainsimpqueen]

Tethered by a Voice

Adam x Succubus F!Reader, sfw

All my fics are 18! only, minors and ageless accounts will be blocked

He was late, like hell he was very fucking late.

Adam thrashed around his room, trying to get ready for the day. The meeting was supposed to start in fifteen minutes, and he had woken up late. His phone alarm hadn’t set, and now he was dealing with the consequences of not double-checking before crashing the night before.

His wings were a mess; he didn’t have time to preen them nicely or elegantly as he rushed to put on clothes: pants, a band tee (that would never see the heavenly sun), and his back brace. Something had been pulling beneath his right wing lately, and he hadn’t been able to get to Raphael’s clinic to have it checked out. He yanked his robestwo layers, messily over his head and ran to the bathroom to do something about his messy hair. While frantically typing in a number on his phone, he prepared to call his second-in-command, mostly to complain about why she hadn’t made sure he was awake.

“That fucking bitchdamn it, Lute, what do I pay you for?!” he hissed, lathering his hands with face wash and scrubbing aggressively as the phone started to ring.

Once.

Twice.

Then someone picked up.

“Welcome to Velvet Secrets, where your every craving finds its match. Who did you want to fulfill those wicked thoughts of yours tonight?”

A buttery, thick voicelike warmed molasses filled the bathroom through the speaker. Just as Adam was rinsing his face, he froze, staring at his phone in wide-eyed surprise. His wings flexed out immediately, beyond his control, a strange sensation running through them that he’d never felt before every single feather fluttering and puffing out as a strangled breath left him.

That voice sent his wings into chaos.

They stretched and fanned open, each feather on full display, throwing Adam for a complete loop. His stomach curled into knots, and another strange sensation ran up his spine.

Holy fuck.

“What the… fuck?” he muttered, distracted at the sight of himself in the mirror and the way his feathers started gleaming as if they had strings of gold sewn into them, now shimmering brightly.

There was a pause on the line before the woman spoke again.

“Um… hun? Did you mean to call this line?” she asked smoothly, causing his wings to flutter aggressively, each feather flashing.

His eyes nearly rolled back at the tingles moving up and down his spine. His head felt light as a rush of warmth filled it, making him shudder.

“Fuck…” he panted slightly, trying to make sense of what the hell was happening.

“I can transfer you to Serenade, or Tempest. Oh, Honey is a good recommendation, too!” that buttery-sweet voice echoed in his bathroom, confusing him further. A sudden shot of rejection swept through him.

He didn’t want another “bitch.” He wanted you.

“You,” he growled out, staring at his phone and noticing the number: (666) XXX-XXXX.

How in the Lord’s name had his phone connected to some line in that festering pool of fucking atrocious sinners and demon spawn, he did not know. Worse yet, he didn’t understand why his body was reacting so strongly to some sinner trash’s voice.

But fucking hell, he needed to hear more of it. That warm, sweet voice… God, he needed it to call for him.

“M-me?!” the voice sounded surprised, shocked and damn flustered and his wings fluffed up in response.

“Yeah, you. I want to talk to you,” he said, biting back a groan as he moved his hands to try to settle his wings. They fluttered softly against his palms.

“I… um… I…Don’t you want an experienced girl to take care of you? I mean, I’m just the receptionist,” the buttery voice said shyly and nervously, and fuck, that was doing things to him he couldn’t understand.

“Ain’t this your damn job?” Adam grunted, gripping the bathroom sink as he forced himself to stand tall, grabbing his phone and making his way to his bed, drawing sharp, heavy breaths.

“Hey!” that sweet voice squeaked. “Just ‘cause these things are run by succubi doesn’t mean all of us seduce!”

Adam settled onto his bed, lying on his wings in hopes of forcing them closed. Hearing your words, shame filled him, and his lips curled in disgust.

You were a hellspawn… worst of all, a whore of various species.

Yet the thought of that made his chest tighten and his wings spasm at the idea of shaming you.

“Look, if you aren’t going to pay to talk to one of the girls, I’ll have to end the cal”

“I’ll pay you triple what you make,” he blurted, “for you.”

What the fuck was he doing?!

Adam had never felt this level of desperation, but the thought of you hanging up sent him spiraling. His wings practically flapped against his bed, feathers ruffling out of sorts as though trying to catch someone else’s attention fast.

“...I don’t even know what to do…” Your voice was so soft, so small, and yet it sent a shudder through him. His wings fluttered happily, and each feather smoothed down and gleamed, causing him to roll his eyes back again.

“Fuck… You some kind of… good girl or something?” he forced out, listening intently. He heard nothing for a moment.

“I just… I don’t feel comfortable seducing others. I don’t know, I just… I want someone to want me for me, not for what I represent. So I don’t seduce, I just do the paperwork instead,” your voice came through the phone.

He felt a sense of pride for you. He didn’t know why his wings fluttered nonstop, but he felt so proud of you for being so modest.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, his eyes closed as shudders moved through him.

“See, I’m bad at this. Let me get you Tempt”

“Nah, babes,” Adam cut you off, feeling his wings fluff up in irritation at the offer. “I wanna hear that voice of yours just talk. Anything. Whatever is on your pretty little head.”

And that’s how he “met” you.

He spent three hours on the phone with you that day. He just listened while you talked. When the phone abruptly hung up after forty minutes, Adam nearly lost his shit trying to call back. His phone buzzed with an unidentifiable number from Hell.

He didn’t care how it was possible. Not when he answered and heard your voice chiming again, explaining that your work phone did that since he never actually selected a call-girl number.

You were just the receptionist, after all.

After that day, and having your personal number saved to his phone, Adam found himself talking to you a lot. You the little Hell-spawned succubus. And yet, his wings would act out even at the slightest thought of your voice.

You weren’t even actively seducing him!

Yet his body craved you regardless.

One time you called him, and he answered without realizing you had it on video. He momentarily panicked and shut off his camera without even looking at his phone, explaining very poorly why you couldn’t see him.

“I just can’t let you see me, babes,” he stated softly after you asked him.

“My job doesn’t really allow it.”

“Oh,” your soft voice came through. He didn’t look at his phone, paranoid that his camera would magically cut on.

“But… you can see me, right?” you asked softly. It made him turn his gaze to the screen, taking the form of a woman. He sharply inhaled as his wings shot right open, flexing all his puffed-up feathers from where he sat in his office chair. A groan left him as he took in your form on the screen.

(Shade of pink/purple), lovely skin, rich and stunning (e/c) eyes… and when his gaze moved to your wings, he noticed they were small and feathered. He had expected the usual bat-like succubus wings; instead, he saw delicate feathers that looked like they’d been dipped in gold along the tips.

His own wings were losing it stretched widely and rustling, feathers puffed out like some damn peacock as his eyes moved to your lips, absorbing your facial features.

Holy fucking God, you were beautiful.

He might have mistaken you for a “winner” if not for the small horns protruding from your head instead of a halo.

“Adam?” your buttery voice called, pulling him out of his dazed, drooling focus.

“Fuck, babygirl… fuck, you’re stunning,” he breathed out, unable to pull his eyes away from the phone as he took in what you were wearing.

A white blouse that had little ruffles at the sleeves, with just the top button undone so it wasn’t too tight around your neck. It was practically teasing him as he sharply inhaled, eyes moving down to the rest of your outfit flowy skirt and lace black stockings. You weren’t wearing shoes; he saw them off to the side. You were at home, he realized, your phone propped on your desk to show you off nicely while you sat in your chair.

Your lips twitched into a smile, and you giggled slightly. The sound was like the tinkling of wedding bells in his mind, making a dopey look form on his face as he leaned his chin into his palm at his work desk.

“Thank you, Adam~” your voice cooked through the phone, making him shift in his seat. He felt his chest throb with excitement and something he didn’t want to address at the time as he tried to do paperwork.

“Tell me about your day, beautiful,” he urged, instead of making a lewd comment about how badly he wanted to fondle you through that cute work outfit.

He should stop this, stop paying for your time, stop all the calls… with a Hellborn. A Hellborn. What the fuck was he doing?

He was the leader of the Exorcists. He literally went down there to kill scum and then dip out.

Adam thought about this as he listened to your sweet, velvety voice tell him about your day, while he tried focusing on paperwork. But at least you were safe, he reasoned, as his eyes flicked from the papers over to his phone screen. You had changed from your office clothes to some cute little sleep outfits, a tank top and fuzzy sleeping shorts.

Over the months, you have become more confident, showing more of your skin on these video calls. You were so fucking modest. It was literally the horns that reminded him of what you were. Even that was barely enough, as time kept passing, and the longer he allowed these calls, the more he forgot.

You were practically a saint down in that shithole. You didn’t seduce. One time you let slip that you hadn’t even had sex, a virgin succubus, which he found both fascinating and… something he felt oddly proud of.

“Don’t you need to, like, eat that energy or something?” he asked after you let it slip.

“Ah, yes, but just because I absorb the energy doesn’t mean I have to fuck someone. I can go to clubs or work. It’s just lust in general I can thrive off of. I just… I don’t know, I feel uncomfortable with the thought of sleeping around with people I don’t know. Does that make sense?” you explained, and he watched how your brows knitted together, how your little wings wrapped around you for comfort.

“Yeah, oh yeah, that makes a lot of sense, babe,” Adam assured you immediately, without a second thought anymore, and his own wings fluttered into his sides. He wanted to pull you through the damn screen into his arms, wrap his wings around you, and just keep you safe.

He shook his head to banish those thoughts as creeping guilt filled his chest.

You didn’t even know who he really was.

All of this was a lie.

And yet, your bright smile made him smile in return. How could he stop these moments? He still paid you for your time, always sending you large amounts of money for the calls, but you never changed how you treated him. You never once acted differently, still wearing your normal, modest clothing occasionally you’d show him a new pair of shoes or a new shirt.

After the bullshit meeting he had with Lucifer’s HellspawnCharles or Charlie, whatever the fuck her name washe treated himself to a phone call with you, sitting out on his penthouse balcony, stewing in irritation. His wings went crazy at the thought of you, adding to his irritation when your line didn’t go through.

“Fucking damn it, babe, where are you? Pick up,” he swore, tapping the call-again button repeatedly, forcing another call attempt.

When the link clicked through, he heard your voice. You sounded frantic.

“Adam?!”

“Hey, babes”

“Have you seen the news?” you cut him off, sounding panicked.

He paused, confused, letting out a small noise that said as much.

“No, I haven’t”

“They’re moving up the extermination date!” you cried, panicking, going on about how he needed to find somewhere safe, that he only had six months

“Um… babe, I’m fine, really”

“You’re a Sinner, Adam! They can kill you, and”

Ah, yes. The lies. You believed he was one of them.

“Babe, relax. I’ll be fine, trust me. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, guilt piling on in his chest.

After this extermination, he would tell you the truth. You deserved that, even if you ended up blocking him. You deserved to know.

But he never got the chance.

He choked on golden blood as it poured from his mouth, feeling a piercing pain stab between his wings. Soon, he lay dying in the arms of a friend. It was strange, truly dying. He expected to see his whole life in Heaven flash by, but the only thing that came to mind were the phone calls, the video chats, the times he watched you sleep through the screen when you drifted off mid-conversation, making him ache to hold you, keep you warm in his wings.

His paid-for attention and companionship to you was all that flashed through his mind. As he looked up to see his friend, all he could see was you.

A saint in Hell.

He wanted to be better. Fuck, you deserved better, and he wanted to be that.

He was supposed to tell you the truth, to explain everything, to tell you how much you mattered to him, how much he cared for you even if he wasn’t supposed to. How much he wanted things to work out. And now?

He didn’t believe in second chances. He never really did. What was done was done. So he didn’t pray for himself to make it out. He didn’t expect the Heavenly Father to throw him a crutch.

But he did pray for you.

He prayed in his fading moments that you would always be safe, that his fucked-up breach of agreements wouldn’t cause you harm or lead to your death.

He prayed that you would find someone as good as you were, someone who wouldn’t make you be something you didn’t want to be. He understood not wanting to live as what you’d been born or created to be.

“Just make it possible for her to live well and be who she wants to be. Please, Fatherdon’t let those fuckers destroy her. Please. She’s a good person. She’s a good person.”

That was his final thought as his eyes grew heavy and his chest ached with agony. His wings still fluttered at the thought of you.

She didn’t deserve to be born there.

He accepted death fully. He didn’t expect to suddenly be alive again, so his confusion was huge when he woke up in an unfamiliar place in Hell.

Looking at the vast landscape reminding him of the countryside he realized he definitely wasn’t in the Pride Ring. He wasn’t well-versed in Hell’s geography, so he had no idea where he was. His wings automatically stretched to flap and lift him, pure habit. Yet they couldn’t do what they’d done so easily in Heaven. Confused, he looked at them

And froze in horror.

His wings were no longer the pure, golden bright color he was used to, but ashy black and gray, in terrible condition. The reason he couldn’t fly was obvious: all his flight feathers were gone, as though burned away. A liquid trickling down his face drew his attention. Bringing a hand up to wipe it, he saw black coating his fingers. Now alert, he felt the pounding in his head and noticed his nails had turned into black claws.

His chest heaved as he moved his hand to the top of his head, hissing in pain when he felt horns exploding from his skull. They felt crooked and messed up beyond belief. Adam took a step, meaning to move or find a mirror, and agony jolted through his legs, sending him tumbling forward. His wings flapped in a useless attempt to catch him, but failed, and he collided with the ground.

He rolled onto his ass, ignoring how his robe now stained with blackened blood slid around him, and glanced at his legs. Horror struck when he saw patches of black and brown fur leading down to hoof-like feet.

What the fuck happened to him?!

Why was he like this?!

Panicking, he tried scrambling to his feet. He needed to get to a church. To the elevator. He needed to contact Sera; she would have answers. Fuck, he needed to

A ringtone blared from his robe’s pocket, making him dig for his phone frantically.

It was probably Sera, probably help, maybe Lutesomeone who could tell him what was going on.

“Adam! Holy fuck, you answered!” a buttery, velvety voice cried out instead. He froze, his wings snapping open immediately as he recognized sniffles and quiet sobs.

“Where are you?!” you shrilled, making his head swim.

“What? Y/N?”

“I don’t give a fuck if your work can’t let you be seen. It’s been days since the extermination, Adam! Where the fuck are you? I’m coming to see you! I thought you were dead!” you sobbed.

Guilt flooded him. In a daze, Adam looked around, describing the area he was in.

“You’re… in Wrath? That’s not I don’t care. I’ll be there in a second,” you said before hanging up.

“Y/N, wait!” But the line went dead.

Adam couldn’t help screaming in frustration and guilt. He had no idea what was going on, why he was in Hell, why he looked like thisand fuck, he didn’t want you to see him like this. He hadn’t even had a chance to explain who he was. How would you react?

His thoughts couldn’t spiral any faster when a strange noise came from behind, making him turn to see the air warping into a portal and a small woman stepping through. His eyes landed on you, and his wings fluttered at the sight.

God, you were such a pretty sight in person.

Your eyes darted around frantically until you saw him, and you halted immediately. A noise left you as you stared at him. Recognition formed, then fear. Adam wasn’t stupid; Hell must’ve gotten a great show of his face days ago.

You took a few steps back as though to flee. He should have let you.

“I can explain!” he blurted, staring at you wide-eyed, raising his hands to show he wouldn’t harm youHeaven knew he would never harm you, but you didn’t know that.

“If… if you let me,” he added quickly, seeing how your face morphed into uncertainty. You should run, but he watched as you took a few more steps back and then nodded, moving to sit down. Relief flooded him.

So he did. He told you everything now. The very first call was a mistake, how after he heard your voice, he couldn’t help but want more, how each phone call made him fall more in love with hearing about your day, your life. How you made him feel less alone. That you felt like more than some woman he was paying to talk to. How he loved your conversation, feeling as though you truly cared for him in a way others did not.

“I had friends, yeah, but… you, with you I wanted to hear from you. You made me feel real, like you just treated me differently than I’d ever been treated before,” he struggled to say, looking at you. You were listening intently, considering his words, judging them. Anxiety twisted his gut, and he took a shaky breath. His wings flexed and fluffed up in his discomfort.

“You just made me feel like I was someone worth talking to, not some fucking pet. Like I”

Adam froze, his lips quivering, eyes dropping.

A pet.

Has he always felt that way?

He thought back to how he was treated in Heaven, always given commands to follow, told who to be, and if he didn’t meet their exact demands, he was met with annoyed faces and reminders of his “worth.”

Had they always seen him as a pet?

“Adam?” your voice came, and still he couldn’t look up from the ground. In his peripheral vision, he saw your (shade of pink) hand gently rest on his own.

“...My only purpose was to be a breeder, you know?” he spoke after a moment, eyes still cast down. “And when that was done, it was whatever else they needed me to be. Even then, I was never taken seriously, just a joke. So I guess… I just committed to it. The joke. The joke of a man who did their dirty work.”

Your face showed a soft grimace, but you still held onto him gently, your small wings fluttering. Then you cupped his face.

“What do you want to be?” you asked softly, peering into his golden eyes. “If you had a chance to live a new life, what would you want to be?”

Adam froze, staring at you, his eyes growing glossy.

“Happy,” he whispered, tears falling. “I just want to be happy… A family, a real family… marriage to someone I love, who will love me and not leave me. I just want to be happy.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you stood, offering him your hand.

“This place isn’t a paradise,” you said, “but if you let yourself learn, if you try, you can find happiness here.” You spoke softly, watching how his eyes moved to your hand. His brows furrowed, then his expression softened as he placed his much larger hand in yours.

He pushed himself up, because Heaven knows you couldn’t have pulled him up on your own.

“With you?” the words came out faster than his thoughts, and he looked embarrassed. But your fingers wrapped around his, making his new, dark wings flutter even more. He looked at your face, seeing a soft and pure smile there.

“I would like that,” you answered.

Six months had passed in Hell and all of its rings.

The hotel had been rebuilt and was as busy as ever. Charlie ran around, trying to prepare for a celebration in hopes of bringing more sinners to the hotel. Everyone was working hard to give the new hotel a positive reputation.

She only skidded to a stop when she noticed a crowd around Angel, who was happily munching on something. When she neared, she noticed Angel had a container of strawberries.

“Ah, Charlie, you gotta try these strawberries,” Angel called, turning to face her. “They burst in your mouth like a guy busting a”

“Don’t even say that shit,” Husk sneered, snatching the container and handing one to Charlie.

Charlie took one, noticing it seemed to glow and sparkle, a shimmer that no plant in Hell had ever had. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

“My dear, what on earth is the matter?” Alastor asked, leaning toward her on his cane.

“Oh, nothing,” Charlie murmured, stepping away from the group and staring at the fruit. All her life living here, she had never seen such a thing before.

She walked from the crowd to the bar, where she saw her love, Vaggie, and her father talking quietly. They both stopped when she arrived. Vaggie greeted her warmly.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Vaggie asked. Charlie looked up at her, then held out the strawberry to her father.

“Dad… do you recognize this?” she asked quietly.

Lucifer let out a polite laugh, thinking she was joking, then paused when he truly saw the glowing fruit.

“I haven't seen something like this since… Eden. And even then, only…” Lucifer trailed off, looking at his daughter in surprise. “Only Adam could grow them.”

“That fucker is alive?!” Vaggie snarled in surprise.

It brought them to the Wrath Ring.

Lucifer, Charlie, and Vaggie weaved through the ring, heading to the markets. It bustled with Hellborn chattervarious butcher stalls, crops, anything one might need. Their attention was drawn to a busy stall where gleaming fruits were stacked, shining brightly.

Lucifer grabbed Charlie and Vaggie, pulling them to the side.

“Best if he doesn’t see us,” he mumbled, not wanting to deal with a fight, and the girls nodded as they observed the stall.

They didn’t have to wait long before a tall figure emerged from the back, carrying crates. His face was the same, but everything else had changed drastically over the last six months.

“How is it even possible for him to be down here? Sinners can’t cross rings without strict permission,” Charlie asked, watching the man who had destroyed her first hotel.

Lucifer was silent for a moment, as though remembering the past and seeing the present all at once. He stared at Adam, who was setting up his glowing crops with a content smile while selling them to the Hellborn.

It was like the old days in the Garden, when Adam eagerly showed Lucifer his first homegrown plant.

“I… uh… He’s not really a Sinner,” Lucifer explained at last. “Like your mother when she fell, she turned into a demon. Her soul isn’t exactly a modern human’s soul, so it makes sense Adam’s did the same… became a demon.”

Charlie and Vaggie watched as a Hellborn woman succubus came around the corner with a smaller crate, which Adam immediately took from her, scolding her gently. He seemed worried as he led her to sit down.

“Adam, I’m okay!” your voice rang out, laughing as the man guided you to sit. A smile formed on his face.

“I told you already, babes, you’re not lifting anything. We’re sticking to our plan,” Adam said. “So just sit there all pretty, yeah? Let me, the man, do all the work. Besides, you’re already working too hard,” he teased, his hand moving protectively over the succubus’s stomach.

Charlie, Lucifer, and Vaggie’s eyes went wide at the sight. Lucifer moved as though to step forward, but Charlie grabbed him.

They all looked on at the scene of the two of you laughing, relaxed, at peace with each other. Adam had changed so much in the last six months.

He and the succubus looked truly happy… redeemed in a way.

“Let’s just go, Dad,” Charlie said softly. She took in Lucifer’s surprise and smiled at him.

“Let’s just turn the other cheek,” she added, taking Vaggie’s hand and leading her away, a bright smile on her face.

“Let’s go home.”

[britishassistant]

Twisted Wonderland was so real for having the enemies in the first Halloween special be entitled customers