#fan fic: mine

[beelmons]

Not your subordinate.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (non-BAU) Word count: 1,110 Genre: Angst with a happy ending cw: hospitals, mentions of someone being shot, mentions of death, light angst. Summary: Aaron is shot in the line of duty and you're there when he wakes up, however, his agent side comes out when you less need it. A/N: this was supposed to be a drabble and got a bit too long, whoops.

Nothing quite prepares you for the feeling of seeing a loved one bedridden by a bullet to the chest. Let alone your husband, the one you believe to be your other half, the cord that keeps you tied to this earth with a willingness to appreciate beauty and life.

Your breath was caught in your throat, your hands tightly gripping the area of you chest, as if you were trying to snatch your heart and give it a comforting hug. You sobbed quietly, your lips pursed trying your best to not let the tears flow so freely.

"He's out of danger." you heard the man behind you speak up. Reid, the BAU's local genius, had been so kind to call you and escort you to the hospital so you could see your husband who had been hurt in the line of duty hours earlier.

You approached the bed and pulled a chair to be sitting to his level, your hands immediately reaching for his and squeezing it with light desperation.

"Mrs. Hotchner." Spencer remained by the door, pity written all over his face "I really need to take you to Quantico now." he stated as he signaled toward the exit.

"I'm not leaving him." your head snapped in his direction, brows furrowed in offense. You saw him tense up, and you decided to relax instead. This wasn't his fault, it was part of the job.

"The UnSub hasn't been apprehended yet, he could be targeting the hospital." he tried to explain.

"The more the reason to stay, then, don't you think?" with your final statement your sight went back to Hotch. One of your hands tangled on his hair, and you appreciated his sleeping face. On the daily, even when he slept, he always had traces of concern, but in this very second, he just looked peaceful.

Spencer wasn't able to form any rebuttal, so his head nodded slightly to indicate he understood your position. "I'll have two officers posted at the door, if you notice anything odd, or someone seems off, please call me or Agent Prentiss immediately."

You shot him an understanding and thankful smile before you agreed with your head. You watched as he turned, ready to head back into the field "Spencer." you said to interrupt his actions, and he stopped in his tracks to provide you the attention "Get the son of a bitch." you said resolutely.

Without further word, he darted out of the room. Never did you imagine four walls could suffocate you in such a way. The faint beeping of the monitor, that was both the indicator that he was still alive and the reminder that he almost died, seemed to be getting on your nerves.

Minutes later, you noticed the uniforms stand by the door, and your body could finally relax a bit more. Your head dropped to be laying on the bed instead. You weren't sure when, but you had drifted off to sleep, your hand still tightly attached to your husband's.

"Mrs. Hotchner" you heard someone call your name and you bolted up immediately. A wide smile drew itself on your face, along with a couple droplets of tears, when you realized it had been no other than Aaron himself.

His eyes were half-lidded, his voice still groggy from having just woken up. You hovered over him with excitement, doing your best to not lay your your entire weight on him as you hugged his body. "Thank God, you're awake."

His arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders. He took a second to close his eyes again, simply engulfing the feeling of your embrace. He wouldn't tell you, but when he struggled to breathe, and he felt his life escape his hands, he could only think of you. Of how thankful he was to have been loved by someone like you.

"You shouldn't be here." he finally said once you pulled back, your hands back to squeezing his.

"Saveit, Reid already tried to get me off here. Didn't work." you said, your eyes fixed on him to prove him you were dead serious.

"Honey." he said, his eyebrows were furrowed, and he had that professional glare you had gotten so used to seeing whenever he had work to do, and that you tried to hard to keep away from your household. "He's fixated on me. He could be trying to get to the hospital to finish what he started. Please, go to quantico so you can be safe." there was something different about his tone, it was pleading, sure, but you could hear the hint of a command hovering over it.

"I'm not one of your subordinates, Aaron, so check that tone with me." you stated, a bit offended as well. His expression softened immediately, the stone hitting right to his forehead, and his eyes began to redden and water along with his nose.

"I don't want to risk losing you." his voice was shaky, a weak hand reached to land on your cheek, cupping it gently.

You sighed, your own emotions beginning to flow. You sniffled to gather strength, your words were not going to be easy to say. "You always say that whenever something goes wrong." you pointed out "Does it ever cross your mind that I don't want to lose you either?"

"It's different." he tried to argue.

"It's not." you shot him a smile "Aaron, if a bad guy were to enter through that door right now, he might as well take me with you. Because if I lose you, even if I live, there won't be any of me left. Who I am today, is a scramble of what we've been through. Together." you heard him sniffle half way through your speech, his tears finally flowing down his face.

He tugged at your hand, indicating that you should jump on the bed. You did so, struggling to keep yourself up on the edge by clinging to your husband's waist. His chin rested on top of your head, and you rested yours on his chest.

"I'm kind of glad you are not on the team" he admitted jokingly in attempt to diffuse the blue atmosphere.

"Yeah, I'm not very good at doing what you tell me to, am I?" you went along.

"To be fair, they aren't either." he answered, causing the two of you to chuckle at the same time.

Many years have you spent at the side of this man, many years you prayed this would remain the same, and sure, a time might come in which you are separated, but thinking about that could wait. He is still here, in your arms, where he belongs.

[steddieme]

modern day robin, steve and eddie hanging out

steve, ignorant of his bisexuality: i love 80s music. wham!, blondie, david bowie, madonna, abba, omg especially abba, i love abba

robin and eddie:

robin: *turns to eddie* he's definitely, uh-

eddie: yep, 100%

robin, whispering: how do we break the news to him??

eddie, whisper shouting: we?! you've basically melded into one person, you do it!

steve: ???

[obliviouskara]

Supergirl doesn’t huff. She doesn’t. She’s National City’s superhero, beloved and adorned. Has captivated the hearts of many, saving it tragedy after tragedy. Supergirl is indestructible, bullets bounce off of her, laser beams shoot out from her eyes. Her enemies tremble at the sight of her and yet here is she, huffing like a petulant child withheld her favorite candy all because Lena Luthor keeps ignoring her.

In Lena’s defense, she’s not ignoring ignoring her but she’s also like not giving her the time of day.

While all of National City’s — some would even argue including Metropolis, eyes are on her she can’t seem to capture a specific pair of exquisite emerald hues that belonged to a certain L-Corp CEO.

It doesn’t matter that she’s saved said tech genius multiple times now (not that she loves to dwell on the fact of just how many times she had to save her) but Supergirl always comes to her rescue. Always. Even more times than the media tabloids can count. So much so that there are rumors spreading, mostly from magazines wanting clickbait headlines. Headlines like how the resident superhero has been spotted carrying a certain CEO to safety way too many times.

People talk, tweet, whisper. Who wouldn’t? A Luthor and Super working together is a headline worthy to keep people talking. But no matter how hard Supergirl tries, nothing seems to be working. She can't catch her attention. At least not the kind of attention she secretly hopes to get out from her.

The CEO thanks Supergirl, as she always does. So polite yet begrudgingly reserved.

Supergirl earnestly tries to make sure to be her knight and shining amour and if from time to time she makes a show or flare about it, that’s her business. None of this garner any huge reaction from Lena though.

So, it makes her huff because she’s Supergirl. Although she would never admit it out loud, she does get a little thrill when people watch her in awe. She tries to hide the proud smirk when she successfully blows a house caught on fire with one breath. She doesn't even break a sweat.

If only Lena would look at her the same way.

But as fate might have it, the L-Corp CEO would simply give her a grateful smile and a practiced “thank you” and she’s off— goes on with her day as if she wasn’t just inches away from death.

Lena doesn’t bat an eye when the Kryptonian does her heroic stunts which some would argue is a bit over the top for someone who isn’t even of acquaintance to the CEO.

Supergirl’s touches are so soft, careful, reverent in such way when she rushes towards Lena’s safety like a scene straight out from a comic. This makes Sam, Lena’s friend and arguably only friend she allows to judge her to an extent—  raise a few eyebrows.

So, the National City’s superhero pouts.

Pouting like a six-year told being told to go to bed earlier than she would have wanted. This inevitably pushes her to find ways to impress the green-eyed CEO who watches her with the most blank expression.

She’d even once sent her a wink when she punches a particular large alien straight to oblivion while staring directly at the CEO. Lena's reaction? Nothing. Didn't even crack a smile. She seemed almost unimpressed. Borderline bored. The only thing she receives is a smack in the head from Alex telling her to “stop being inappropriate while wearing the suit”.

Thankfully, Kara doesn’t have pout for long because while Lena barely gives Supergirl the time of day, she gets a completely 180 when she’s Kara Danvers.

For some reason, Lena smiles wider - brighter whenever she’s around the shy, fidgety, clumsy reporter. A CATCO reporter that Lena seems to be head over heels with.

Lena doesn’t even shy away showing how much she enjoys Kara’s company. It should embarrass Kara how much Lena unabashedly favors her in more ways than one but she’d be lying if she doesn’t admit how much she loves spending time with the her. The undivided attention is just a cherry on top.

While Lena barely makes conversation with the resident superhero, she has lunch dates with Kara. Movie dates. She filled her office with flowers as a thank you for the article she published describing about the new acquisition and owner of Luthor Corp now turned L-Corp even though Kara shyly explained that she was simply doing her job, all while the Kyrptonin simply gets a “that’s lucky” for saving her from almost plummeting to her death.

Kara doesn’t miss the slight change of expression on Lena’s face when the Supergirl nervously explained how she found out Lena was in danger.

Was that jealousy? That’s ridiculous! Why would Lena even care that Kara and Supergirl are friends?

But Kara, oblivious Kara only seem to see herself worthy of Lena Luthor when Kara is her alter ego. She feels more confident when she’s Supergirl than she is as Kara. She’s not really sure why. Probably because she feels she has more to offer compared to her reporter persona. Kara is just so…Kara. Simple. Flimsy. Boring.

Lena doesn’t deserve simple. How could someone be as amazing as Lena Luthor possibly find shy, nervous, boring reporter Kara Danvers interesting? She’s just being kind. That’s just how Lena is. Even though Lena literally bought a million-dollar company she knew absolutely nothing about all for Kara. An investment that left Sam completely speechless and Jess losing sleep for a week.

Kara convinces herself that Lena is just a good person and that’s one of the many things she loves about her best friend.

But it continues, and Lena falls for Kara even more. She falls for her perfect smiles the way her face lights up with each new random fact her brain comes up with, her silly jokes that Alex points out are not even that funny but Lena laughs the loudest if only to bring another smile on Kara’s face, their genuine conversations that has Lena opening parts of herself that she has never told anyone about maybe other than Sam and super platonic cuddling.

This makes Kara as Supergirl bolder. She becomes confident in expressing how she feels for Lena while she wears a cape. Lena isn’t the only one falling. So is Kara. Hard.

She falls for Lena’s genuine kindness; how smart Lena is and yet somehow, it’s like she doesn’t know how amazing she is. She falls for the CEO even when she’s wearing the suit that the lines between her and her superhero alter ego almost blurs. Almost.

So, she openly flirts without shame. For someone who’s supposed to be professional in her line of duty, she seems to make it a hobby to send a overtly flirty smile or wink towards the CEO. Supergirl lifts 10-ton trucks in front of Lena, intentionally flexing her biceps basically just to show off. To get the slightest reaction out of Lena but all she gets is a tight lip smile before Lena shoots Kara a text to have lunch.

And while Lena spends more time publicly with Kara, they barely get swarmed with paparazzi. I mean, who would find Lena having lunch with an unknown reporter interesting.? That’s not news worthy.

It’s not even gossip worthy.

But as soon as she’s standing close with Supergirl, their photos are front and center of every magazine cover.

It becomes a headline in a span of minutes, twitter loses their mind. They earn a little fan club even and Lena tries her best to ignore it.

Really, she does but it bothers her a little. Not for the reasons people might think. She finds every headline of her and Supergirl “dating” irritating if not annoying because that’s not exactly the blonde she wants her name to be associated with.

Sure, she and Kara are getting closer - Lena can feel it. A connection more than friends tethering their bond, an unspoken knowledge neither one of them brave enough to admit. Yet.

She ponders. Hopefully.

The nonstop rumors about her and Supergirl are starting to get on her nerves since last thing she wants is for Kara to get the wrong impression.

Lena considers what she and Kara have fragile. Delicate. Like the slightest turmoil would send it crashing. She can’t have that. Not if she can help it. She won’t allow rumors about her and a hero with an awful god complex ruin it.

She worries what Kara might think of her connection with Supergirl because there isn’t. It’s purely transactional. Business at best. They’re barely even friends.

She’s given the superhero the coldest shoulder she can whenever they’re in close proximity. It's probably not fair but she makes sure to keep a respectable distance between them. It doesn’t help however that the superhero seems to enjoy being close to her.

Hovering almost. It infuriates her even more.

So, she tries to hide it. It’s not the alien’s fault Lena has fallen for the reporter. It’s not Supergirl’s fault she has issues and is overprotective of her relationship with Kara.

Lena isn’t a fan however of the fact that Supergirl somehow is never shy to leave a comment of what she thinks about Lena. While Lena doubles her effort to make sure she doesn’t mention Supergirl in any of her interviews unless necessary, Supergirl is the complete total opposite.

She talks about Lena. A lot. Her projects, her advocacy (How did she even have the time to remember that? Lena’s only mentioned it once) and what she does for the community. It’s so hard to hate the superhero when she’s nothing but nice and supportive towards the scientist.

Almost like this unwavering and undying devotion which to her is a little dramatic since she doesn’t even think highly of herself at times.

Lena thinks, “Thanks but like, can you please just shut up about me for one second?!”

Apparently, Supergirl does and she praises Lena every chance she gets, every time a microphone is shoved towards her asking what she thinks of the L-Corp CEO.

Lena knows the media is doing it on purpose too and it’s fueling whatever rumors that are going on about them. And while she appreciates Superhero’s opinions and generous words, there is only one opinion that she really cares about.

She was mortified when she saw Kara staring at a photo of her with Supergirl, arms wrapped protective around her in one of the magazines on her desk (she’s sure Sam did it on purpose, she doesn’t remember ever getting a copy for herself), Lena immediately snatches it out from Kara’s hands, shoves it inside her drawer and starts rambling defensively preparing for a full-blown explanation to whatever possible questions were running through the reporter’s mind. Noticeably, Kara barely says a word.

Even as Kara stays silent, Lena still feels as though she needs to explain herself. She tells Kara nothing is going on, and she doesn’t see Supergirl that way at all. She shouldn’t be defensive when Kara has not made as much fuss about it but she can’t help it. Sweet, nice, understanding Kara Danvers just smiles and says “I don’t know. You two look good together”.

Now it’s Lena that freezes. She stands there, gob smacked and absolutely lost because what was that supposed to mean?

Does it bother her that Kara almost seemed okay with it? Does Kara think something is actually going on or she doesn’t think much of it? Did Lena expect a little bit jealousy? That’s insane and frankly quiet immature for her to hope to get a rise out of Kara. But Kara simply shrugged and started devouring their shared lunch.

It’s fine. Lena’s fine. She doesn’t care that Kara doesn’t care. This is good. This should be good. It doesn’t bother her at all. Or so she tells herself. Until it does.

Lena tried to casually prob the topic again. Tries her best to not sound too desperate. She thinks of the easiest way to brooch the topic without being conspicuous. With perfect timing, the TV flashes an image and it showed a picture of Supergirl clutching on Lena protectively from a blast, another poor attempt on her life.

Whether it’s because of Supergirl’s overprotectiveness or just her natural aura which was how the photo was taken, it came out beautiful. Stunning. Almost breath taking that you would think it was staged.

On top of that it’s also intimate. The way the superhero is holding her. Lena barely remembers being held by the super. She was too busy trying to not have a panic attack after just seconds away from an exploding bomb.

Lena held her breathe. Any minute now.

Lena had been glancing at Kara’s direction since the news started, waiting. The news anchor mentioned what everyone else was already thinking. How sweet they both look, that somehow, they manage to turn what supposedly should have been an image that would portray fear and anxiousness into something almost heartwarming. She waits, and waits until she breaks the silence herself.

“I can’t believe people actually assume I’m dating Supergirl.” Lena scoffs, forces a laugh as tries to be casual, as if her heart isn’t about to beat out of her chest wondering what Kara might be thinking.

“I wouldn’t blame them. You two make a great couple.”

Before Lena could even respond, Kara adds, “I mean, you and Supergirl? It’s Supergirl, Lena. Everyone wants her. Half of National City probably has a crush on her. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” Kara finishes off, with a fond roll in her eyes as if to tell her it’s not a big deal. That it’s normal.  She takes the remote out from Lena’s hands while she uses the other to shove popcorn in her mouth. Lena swears she could almost see a smirk forming Kara’s lips. As if she was smug about something.

But it wouldn’t make any sense. Also, why was Kara so fine with it? And why was Lena so annoyed that it didn’t bother Kara? They’ve been going out on dates but nothing about it were friendly. At least not to Lena. Was she reading things wrong? She knows she’s not.

Lena’s too smart to be reading into things. She has three PHDs for crying out loud. She can explain quantum physics in her sleep but this? Lena has never been so sure and so confused about something in her life.

It’s possible to assume what she has with Kara is simply friendship but it’s hard to deny that there’s something more. She feels it. In the way she lights up when Kara is around, when a single text from the reporter brightens up even her darkest days.Good morning and Good Night shouldn’t be causing butterflies to fly rampant in your stomach or make your chest ache with so much joy. But it does. It does for Kara.

“Not me though,” Lena finally says after finding her voice. She looks away, afraid that blue eyes can see beyond the facade she’s trying to keep up. “I don’t… I don’t see her that way.”

Kara pauses mid-way from ingulfing her popcorn. Lips purse as if she’s thinking hard about something. “Really?” Kara doesn’t even hide the surprise in her voice as she slowly turns to face Lena, popcorn temporarily forgotten. “Why not?” Why was Kara whining about this? Lena should be whining, not her.

“What do you mean, ‘Why not?’”

“I mean.. Why don’t you.. But she’s so.. — it’s Supergirl, Lena! She’s like the strongest woman ever! She’s a superhero and she’s so..” Kara blushes, as if trying to find the right words but also somehow struggling to let them out at the same time. This confuses Lena even more.

“She should totally be your type! She’s like everyone’s type!” Kara throws her hands trying to make a point.

Lena just stares at her. Unimpressed. Scrunching her nose, she turns her attention back to the screen changing the channel. “Well, she’s not.” The CEO deadpans and that was the end of it.

Lena tries to forget about that disaster of a movie night. She really does. She wills herself not to think about it. She tries pushing it at the back on her mind for two days until Lena reaches her limit.

She’s furious. How dare Kara Danvers just — push her away like she’s nothing. ‘She should be your type’ plays on her head nonstop almost mocking her and it makes her want to scream! How could someone be this —ugh.

That’s how Sam finds her. Pacing around her office like a mad woman on a mission rage written all over her face. She looks like a ticking time bomb just seconds from exploding.

“Looks like someone woke up at the wrong side of the bed this morning,” cautiously Sam approaches, like walking close to a wild animal. She makes sure to leave a respectable distance just in case.

“Unbelievable!” Lena starts her rant, her hands balled into a fist. “I can’t believe out of all people she thinks Supergirl is perfect for me.”

“I mean she’s not—”

“Samantha Arias, I swear to god not today.”

Sam immediately lifts both hands in surrender, taking another step back.

“Here I was worried sick of what she might think about these stupid rumors only to find out she obviously doesn’t care! The nerve! She thinks supergirl should totally be my type?! Supergirl?!”

Sam opens her mouth attempting to ask a question or two but seeing as Lena is close to throwing the nearest thing she could grab against the wall, she decided against it.

But the thing is, Kara Danvers does care. She probably cares more than anyone. Kara Danvers cares about Lena Luthor so much that it bothered the Kryptonian that Supergirl isn’t Lena’s type hence why she’s huffing again.

However, another incident, another threat to Lena’s life changes everything.

It was such a close call that it leaves them both breathless and the girl of steel shaking as she holds Lena close. Blue eyes scan each and every corner of Lena’s face making sure she’s okay. Making sure she’s real and nothing bad has happened. She made it on time. She's safe. Normally, Lena wouldn’t allow this much intimacy between them but after this attack she needed something to ground her a little.

“You’re okay. Thank Rao, you’re okay.” Lena doesn’t move, her feet appear to be rooted both by shock and fear while Supergirl continues to examine every inch of her face. “I was so scared I was going to lose you,” Supergirl whispers and Lena could hear the tremble in her voice.

Everything happened so fast that Lena was having trouble trying to process everything. The attempt on her life, how she was merrily inches away from death. She remembers the exact moment she came to terms with it. This was it. Finally, from all the attempts on her life that this was the one to take her out. She should have known. An exploding bomb in her car was a classic. Lena would have been okay with it if not for a specific blonde reporter that she wished was with her at that very moment. She can’t die. Not yet. Not until she tells Kara how she feels. They at least deserve that.

However, the reality is Kara's not here. Supergirl is. Supergirl is the one holding her. Holding her the way she would have hoped a certain blonde reporting was holding her.

Lena had to close her eyes to stop looking back at blue eyes staring at her with so much concern. This can’t happen. She’s not — she can’t be. She loves Kara Danvers. She might be pissed at her but she knows deep down she’s in love with the nervous fidgety reporter and not to this impenetrable woman right in front of her.

Her head shakes as Supergirl’s tighten her grip as if too afraid Lena might slip away. During these moments when Lena allows herself to feel, she genuinely does not know what to make of it. Why does Supergirl care about her so much. No one is watching. There are no cameras recording their interaction.

She assumes it was all for publicly but this, it feels different. When it’s just them and no one else. Supergirl stands close to her, completely shaken and unbalanced. There is genuine fear in her eyes at the thought of being too late or not being fast enough. Lena has never felt safer.

As she starts to pulls away, green eyes meet glassy blue. She convinces herself it’s the dust and not the resident superhero actually in tears because that would mean…

“I thought I was going to lose you.”

“But why do you—”

Before Lena could respond, she feels a pair of lips against her own and everything around them seems to disappear.

It barely registers to her what is happening, completely getting lost on the pair of lips against her own. Lena feels a shiver run down her spine at the way Supergirl is kissing her, making her grab unto the superhero’s shoulder.

The action was meant to push the super away because this can’t be happening. These were not the pair of lips she wanted on her but somehow, it feels right. Like this was how things were suppose to be. She feels her heart raising as Supergirl deepens the kiss, feeling herself getting pushed slightly until the back of her knee hits against a hard surface but it barely registers to Lena because Supergirl is kissing her in a way she's never been kissed before.

Finally, Lena finds the strength to pull away the need to breathe outweighing her body’s desire. And for the first time, she wills herself to stare at the pair of brilliant oceanic eyes that she’s been trying so hard to ignore. She lets her eyes track down every detail of the superheroes face, trying to figuring out a puzzle with missing pieces. Blue eyes stare back at her with a mix of desire and unbridled affection as Lena continues to gasp for air and stares.

Something about Supergirl’s smile, the strong line of her jaw, the way her soft lips parts as she patiently waits for Lena to say something seems so familiar. Like an answer at the tip of her tongue but can’t seem to get it out. It’s frustrating as it is captivating and all Lena wants to do is drink it in, see past the mask that this superhero constantly wears and be able to see what all this means.

Being this close, Lena can see the moment Supergirl lips rise to form a smile. A smile Lena is all too familiar with now that she’s finally inches away from the superhero. It’s all too familiar now and finally, it dawns to her.

A tiny gasp leaves her lips at the realization, emerald eyes never leaving blue as Supergirl’s smile brightens. As if she too understands that Lena has finally figured it out. With trembling delicate fingers, Lena reaches up and cup Supergirl’s cheeks and instinctively, Supergirl leans against her touch. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Lena feels a gentle squeeze where Supergirl is holding her and she lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“Kara?” Lena whispers, barely hiding the tremble of her own voice and there it was. The smile of the woman she’s been not so secretly in love with plastered on National City hero’s face.

“I am madly in love with you, Miss Lena Luthor.”

[geneticdriftwood]

persephone's in hell; a rooftop conversation

for @mysterycitrus

persephone's in hell, @mysterycitrus // white winter hymnal, fleet foxes // assorted dc comics

[zoldsick]

Kings and Jesters

♕ summary: zoro x f!reader - a silly game on the Thousand Sunny causes Zoro to confront his feelings about their newest member. Based on my original bullet point HC here.

♕ tags: fluff, first kiss, sfw

♕ wordcount: ~2.2k

♕ read on AO3

♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕

Zoro was drunk. He needed to think and therefore was on his second bottle of hard liquor. He always did his best thinking when he was drunk, right?

Zoro thought long and hard about you. What was it about you? Why did he keep feeling himself drawn to you? Whatever it was, he was done letting you in so carelessly. He would not let you invade his mind. He had decided whatever he was feeling was most definitely not romantic feelings. He was sure of it. He would make sure of it.

After coming to this decision he continued to sit back on the bird's nest and enjoy his drink, all the while he desperately tried to tune out the charades taking place on the main deck. One voice in particular, he begged to stop hearing.

…

It was a silly drinking game. 

You were the one who introduced this game to the Strawhat crew, and everyone was having a blast. The game involved drinking, stupid challenges, and inconsequential punishments. Everything a silly party game needs. 

After you introduced the game to the Strawhat crew, they picked it up in stride. The game was called “King” and it involved competing in a handful of goofy challenges in which the winner of each round was crowned the King and the rest of the losers had to drink. The King was then allowed to penalize one of the losers by implementing a punishment- which was usually making them complete some sort of dare. Additionally, to add incentive, Nami decided she would be collecting a “Cowards Fee” on anyone who didn’t want to complete their dare. Suffice to say, everyone was going through with them. 

In other words, it was a fast, fun way to get wasted. 

The Sunny was sailing into an autumn climate and the air was chilly. You were grateful for the fireplace Franky had built as you felt the gentle breeze glide along your back. You smiled as you watched Sanji bring out a tray of marshmallows towards Chopper, who perked up at the idea of sweets. The moon was nearly full and everyone had finally settled around the fireplace living off of the alcoholic buzz and comradery that the game created. Well, almost everyone. 

Sanji cried out in anguish as the whole crew choked on their laughter. Franky was the previous winner and had declared that Sanji would be punished by eating a bite of a dangerously spicy pepper he had picked up on a previous island. It was not a pretty sight.

They had all come up with pretty good punishments this round. Usopp was forced to hold a spider that Robin found under the deck, Luffy was punished by Usopp, who dared him to jump into the ocean—given that Usopp would rescue him shortly after— and sweet Chopper made Robin give him a head massage behind his ears. Of course, Robin didn’t think this was much of a punishment, and happily scratched Chopper's head. 

“I WIN!” Nami shouted, jumping up and looking devilishly at the crew. Who knew Nami would be so good at card games?

Nami peered around at the crew grinning as she thought about what punishment would bring the most entertainment. 

“Pick me Nami ~” Sanji said, earning an eye roll from the orange haired girl. ��Punish me please ~” She ignored his begging, but this did give her an idea. She suddenly turned towards you. You flinched under her mischievous gaze. You had been spared all night and now had a bad feeling it was about to become your turn. Just as predicted, her finger shot out and pointed straight at you. 

“Y/N. Don’t get cocky because you’re new on this ship. Stand up!” 

You got up from your seated position chuckling nervously at Nami’s antics. You doubted she would give you something too terrible, she’s been very protective of you since you boarded the Sunny. The Strawhats all cheered as you walked over to Nami, hooting and hollering for a good punishment. 

Nami slapped her hand across your shoulders, “Alright, Y/N. As a guest on this ship you must show your gratitude to the crew! I demand you give one of our crewmates a kiss! I’ll even be nice and let you choose who, though I think the answer is easy enough.” Nami said, batting her eyelashes at you. 

Your eyes widened, mouth agape, you couldn’t find the words to respond. You could feel your ears turn red as the whole crew exploded in excitement. Sanji went comatose. 

“Nami… I don’t know about this.” You complained, “I don't know if I’m comfortable with a …kiss.” 

“What’s wrong? Too many good options?” Shouted out Franky, “Choose me! I’ll definitely make it SUPER!” 

“It’s just a small kiss. No need to read into it,” said Robin. 

Sanji, staggered to his feet, “Y/N, I would be honored if you chose me as a representative of this ship, to bestow a k-k-kis-” he stopped to cover his nose as a jet of blood shot from it and he collapsed back again. 

Luffy protested, “But I’m the Captain! I’m the representative of the ship!” 

“Luffy, do you really want Y/N to kiss you?” questioned Usopp. 

“What? No. I’m just sayin’ I’m the Captain!” 

“SO! Y/N, who is it going to be?” Nami interrupted, stopping the crew from getting too off-topic. 

“Guys, I really don’t know about this. It’s not really something I’m, particularly… experienced in.” You beg your face to stop changing colors but feel your cheeks betraying you. 

“What do you mean?” Robin pressed, “Have you ever kissed anyone?” 

You desperately try to avoid eye contact. “Uh…” 

The deck of the Sunny suddenly went silent and you felt your embarrassment deepen even more. Suddenly everyone exploded in astonishment and reinvigorated competition. 

“Oh. My. God.” Nami couldn’t believe it, “This changes everything. ALRIGHT EVERYONE! This is now a competition to see who deserves to receive Y/N’s first kiss!” 

…

 Zoro’s drunken brooding was interrupted by shouts and arguing. He shifted from where he sat, the shouts weren’t in fear or danger, but emotions were definitely high. Luffy’s laugh pierced through the yells. What the hell are those idiots doing?

Zoro stood up and stumbled a little, suddenly feeling the liquor working through his veins. Zoro descended the birdnest’s ladder and staggered towards the main deck. As he turned the corner an odd scene appeared before him. Zoro couldn’t quite make out what the argument was about, but he heard everyone shouting over each other.

“I’m the one who initiated the dare in the first place! So I’m the obvious choice here! It’s only fair!” screamed Nami, pulling hard on Usopp’s ear who yelped out in pain. 

“Oh yeah?” Usopp winced, “Well I was the best kisser in all of Syrup Village! It should be me!” 

“That’s nice, but if we are basing this on experience, the older members should be at the top of the list. Right, Franky?” Robin asserted.

“RRRRRRRRRIGHT AS ALWAYS, ROBIN!” Franky posed showing off his muscles, “Y/N! Robin and I are obviously the best choices!” 

Sanji was incoherent, struggling to stop his still bleeding nose. All that could be heard was a pathetic beg, “Please… Please… Y/N’s first… Please…” 

Luffy and Chopper sat back laughing at the whole crew, uninterested in the prize and stuffing their cheeks with marshmallows. 

“What the hell is goin’ on here?” Zoro said gruffly.

You jumped slightly. You were so focused on the chaos that was taking place in front of you that you didn’t notice Zoro walking up. 

“Oh, Zoro. Uh… We were playing a game and…” You struggled to get the words out. 

Zoro waited, watching you squirm with cheeks flushed. This is unfair. 

You launched into a story, something about a game and a punishment, but Zoro wasn’t following. He was just staring, watching the way your lips formed each word. One might say he was distracted. Thankfully, he tuned back in to hear the conclusion. 

“- and so now everyone is arguing about who’s going to get my… first kiss. I guess. It’s all so dumb, I just want this to be over with.” you said burying your face in your hands as you heard Nami smack Sanji’s head back down after he had finally gotten back up.

“They’re what?” Zoro finally comprehended the implications of this punishment. Y/N’s first kiss…

“I know, I don’t know how to get out of this. Nami will probably bleed my pockets dry if I bail out. Probably best to just choose someone and get it over with.” You peeked out of your hands up at him. You were getting redder by the second. 

Zoro looked at the brawling party and then back to you. His chest hurt. 

“First kiss, how stupid.” he mumbled.

“I know! That’s what I’m trying to tell everyo--” 

There was a crash and suddenly Zoro’s hands were gripping your face, and before you could process it, his lips were crashing into yours. 

It was nothing like you imagined your first kiss would go. It was clumsy and he tasted like liquor. One of his hands gripped your jaw and the other tangled in your hair. You could barely keep up with his pace. One of your hands gripped his shirt and the other gripped his arm to ground yourself. His tongue was gliding over yours forcefully, you squeeked at the unfamiliar sensation, which only seemed to encourage Zoro. 

It only lasted around 10 seconds, but when Zoro finally broke the kiss you couldn’t move. Your whole body felt like jelly. His face hovered close to yours, eyes barely open, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to continue. He suddenly took a long step back, clearing his throat and touching his mouth with his fingers.

All members of the Strawhat crew were staring, mouths wide open. Zoro’s bottle of liquor was still spilling out from where he dropped it. 

There was a beat, then the crew fell into disarray.   

Zoro ignored the ruckus happening next to him and struggled to look down at you. He shouldn’t have done that. He finally mustered up the courage to look at you and noticed you were an alarming shade of red. If steam started coming out of your ears he wouldn’t be surprised. Your mouth hung slightly open, lips slightly swollen from his rough kiss, he could tell you were struggling to register what had just happened. He froze as you looked up at him. 

It was like he got punched in the gut. You were incredibly flustered, your eyes slightly watery, and your hair disheveled. His breath hitched. God, what did I just do? 

He quickly looked away, struggling to maintain his composure. Trying to look anywhere besides you. Seeing you this flustered after a simple kiss was not going to help his current crisis. Suddenly a sob broke through the noise and Zoro turned to see who it was coming from. 

Sanji was on the floor crying, looking straight at Zoro, “How… HOW COULD YOU! YOU BEAST!” 

He jumped up, joined by all the other competitors for your first kiss. Chopper knocked down Zoro’s legs and he fell onto his stomach, Usopp jumped on his back and grabbed his hair, yanking it back and yelling back, “How was that fair, you jerk!” 

Sanji took advantage of the fallen Zoro and got a few weak kicks in, still wiping the tears from his eyes. He can’t even speak, he’s too furious, seeing Zoro kiss a woman was the nail on his mental coffin. Luffy can’t stop laughing. 

“They’re RIGHT Zo-Bro,” Franky says, twisting his arm to engage his weapons-left, “I never heard the lady give her permission.” 

“Hey! Argh! Stop it! What’s the big deal? It’s just a first kiss! I’ve never done that before either, it’s nothing!” 

There was a second pause while everyone took in this new information. Robin, unaware she was  about to rub salt in wounds, spoke up, "So, you’re each other's first kiss?" 

Zoro struggled against his crew and managed to look at you. The second you make eye contact neither of you could hold back the blush that made its way across your cheeks and up to your ears. 

The crew bursts into hysterics once again. 

Unable to withstand the attention and incapable of processing everything that just happened, you turned around and ran off into the women’s bunks. Gotta cool my head, gotta cool my head, gotta cool my head— What was that?! 

The crew watched as you retreated, then got in a few more blows to berate and beat Zoro. After a while everyone felt satisfied that Zoro had been appropriately punished, and left him alone. But Zoro didn’t move, he stayed facedown on the lawn of the Sunny, defeated. He was in time out, trying to think about his actions. 

He heard Usopp goofing around with Luffy and Chopper, bragging about how he alone managed to defeat the feared pirate hunter Zoro. Sanji had also dragged himself away sniffling, leaving to make the crew some hot cocoa before bed per Chopper’s request. Finally the deck was silent once again.

Zoro finally sat up, looking down at his own hands, “She didn’t need to run off like that, it’s not a big deal.” He spoke out loud, still trying to convince his crew, but mostly himself. 

Just then, Robin sprouted a hand from his back and slapped him on top of the head. 

He looked up at Robin in disbelief, “Not your best move, Swordsman,” she said from a distance and walked away. 

It’s possible that Zoro does not do his best thinking when he is drunk. 

♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕

author's notes: hope that was a little more fun than the original bullet points. this was originally in a much longer slow-burn story that I decided to ditch, so it's been written for awhile. I might just post the fun parts of that story and edit them to make sense as a one-shot. As always thanks to @nanpecan for editing, go read her nanami fic, it rulez

[totheblood]

superposition. (one)

pairing: dealer!ellie x best friend!reader

summary: you've never been on a date, hell, you've never even kissed anyone. ellie decides to be a good best friend and teach you how! wow.. so kind of her..

warnings: 18+, nearly every chapter will have a somewhat sexual element to it (this one is probably the tamest?), cursing, alcohol/drug mention, suggestive themes... cheating if u squint

a/n: i want bff!ellie and that's all... friends to lovers??? fav trope. i hope i do this justice and i hope you guys like it... ai audios at the end as usual

"in every universe, you are my dark star."

You felt like a fucking loser.

Well, you usually felt like a loser, but as you sat on Dina’s couch researching what to wear on a first date you felt absolutely lame. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been asked out on a date before, it’s just that no one you liked had asked you out on a date before. A girl had never asked you out on a date before. But since the cute girl from your chemistry lab had asked you if you wanted to go to dinner with her, you happily agreed.

You were just… inexperienced and although it never bothered you before as you approached the time for your date you were becoming increasingly more nervous. What to wear, what to order, and what to talk about were all things you were not familiar with and you wanted to be, if anything, overly prepared. So you did the only thing you knew how to: Google it. 

Your feet were tucked under your legs as you sat crisscrossed on the couch. From the living room, you could hear Dina and Jesse laughing in the kitchen as they snacked on whatever they had available in their pantry. Ellie was sat at the dining room table with a scale in front of her, measuring and sorting loose flowers into dime bags. This was what a regular Friday night looked like for your friends. It usually ended in Ellie passing around one of her pre-rolls as you watched a shitty movie Jesse had suggested, but tonight you planned to leave early for your date.

As if Ellie could sense the tension rolling off of you from her place at the table, she plopped herself next to you on the couch, startling you from your anxious state. 

“Jesus, fuck-” You looked at Ellie with wide eyes, her green ones staring back and searching your face as if she was analyzing you. “We need to put a bell on you. You scared the shit out of me.”

“I practically stomped over here, it’s not my fault that whatever-” She gestured back and forth between you and your phone. “Is going on with that stopped you from hearing me.” 

You rolled your eyes at her fully knowing she was right but not wanting to give her that satisfaction. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Soooo,” She began, drawing out the sound as she placed her arm behind you on the couch and leaned into you. “What’s got you all nervous today? I swear whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous.”

You groaned, leaning your head back and into Ellie’s arm. You tilted your head slightly to look at her. She looked comfortable in her grey hoodie, her other hand tucked into the pocket. Her eyes were locked on yours and her eyebrows knit together. She was concerned about you. If the reason you were freaking out wasn’t so juvenile you would be eating this up, but instead you just felt guilty. It annoyed you how well she knew you sometimes.

“It’s so stupid, El.” Your voice came out in a whisper almost as if you were telling her a secret. “You’re gonna laugh at me” Her face softened as she offered you a small smile.

“How much do you wanna bet it’s not stupid?” She leaned her head back on the couch, trying to match your posture. “And if I laugh you have full permission to punch me.” 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a second. You knew that she would never make fun of you for freaking out over a date, but that didn’t stop you from being reluctant to say it out loud. 

“I have a date tonight.” When you opened your eyes you scanned her face looking for a hint of a smile, something that would tell you not to stress. Instead, you saw a different emotion flicker over her face, something you couldn’t quite place. Shock? No. Sadness? No. Disappointment? Close enough. It didn’t make much sense to you but as quick as it was there, it was gone.

“And?” She didn’t sound annoyed, but she didn’t sound happy for you. For the first time in your life, you were having a difficult time reading her.

“And I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been on a date before.” With your admission, you squinted your eyes causing your nose to scrunch. The reaction you were getting from Ellie was hard to read and you were already beginning to feel extremely embarrassed. When you finally did adjust your vision to look at her she just looked confused.

“Why did I not know you’ve never been on a date?” 

“Cause I never told you.” You laughed, a downturned smile on your face. “Not really the best talking point.” You were trying to lighten the mood but Ellie’s expression never changed.

“I mean, it makes sense.” She casually said. If you were anyone else you may have laughed it off, but the sentence cause a sharp pain in your chest. Your mouth fell open as you gasped and playfully pushed her shoulder.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Her eyes widened as she realized how you took her sentence.

“No, no- fuck. I just mean like you spend all your time with me. You never really talk about anyone, I’m not saying no one would date you cause obviously I know that’s not true, I just mean… I didn’t mean it like that.” She rambled out, a frantic look on her face.

“Damn, Ellie. Tell me how you really felt.” The smile crept back up on her face as she realized you were teasing her.

“So you’ve never been on a date? So what?” She shrugged, trying to steer the conversation back in it’s original direction.

“So I don’t know what to wear, or what to talk about, or howtokiss.” You mumbled the last part of your sentence together hoping she wouldn’t notice, but she was Ellie and she noticed almost everything.

“Wear that pink floral dress you have, the one that makes your boobs look amazing. Talk about yourself, it’s a date, the whole point is to get to know each other. And what was that last thing you said?” When she spoke to you everything she said seemed so casual, but you weren’t like her. You couldn’t brush over the fact that she just told you not only does she know your wardrobe without thinking too much about it, but also makes a note of how you look in them. How your tits look in them. 

“Uhm-” You cleared your throat. “I don’t know how to kiss. I’ve never done it before.” You reluctantly admitted. Again you expected Ellie to laugh at you, but she just stared at you, then your lips. 

“Well, I can show you.” She shrugged, eyes trained on you. Your mouth hung open, unsure of what to do. On one hand, kissing your best friend never seems like a good idea, on the other hand, you could use the practice.

“I mean… now?” You asked, your body heating up in anticipation. She looked completely serious, her lips were a straight line and her body seemed completely calm. She was the complete opposite of you. She slightly got up and leaned over you as she peered into the kitchen, presumably checking for Dina and Jesse. As she sat back down she took another quick glance at your lips. 

“Yeah, now. Just a quick lesson before your date.” She said it matter-of-factly almost as if this would just be a case of a friend helping another friend. Like she was offering to help you move or something. A part of you assumed you were overthinking it. If she was so nonchalant about it, then it must not be a big deal. Right? 

“Yeah, okay. It couldn’t hurt, right?” 

“Don’t think so.” She agreed.

“So, what do I do? Do I just-” You placed your phone on the couch between you before cupping her cheek. Ellie placed her hand that was previously in her pocket over yours and moved your hand down to her thigh before leaning in close to you.

“Just relax, I’ll show you how.” Her voice came out in a whisper that you could feel ghost your lips. You were unsure of when she got so close but you could smell her, feel her short and rapid breaths coming from her nose. If you moved an inch your lips would be on hers, but you decided to let her take control.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as she closed the small gap between your faces and pressed her chapped lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you froze, unsure of what to do next. Her hand that was still resting on yours tapped the back of your hand. Almost instinctively you parted your lips and hummed when her tongue tentatively brushed against yours. It almost felt natural, her tongue in your mouth and your hand on your thigh, but as she slowly pulled her face back from you, you suddenly wanted more. 

Your free hand grabbed the back of her head, your lips capturing hers once again. You were fighting to feel her tongue in your mouth again but understood what she wanted when her lips parted. Her hand which had been resting behind your head for a better part of your conversation had made its way down to your waist and gently pulled you into her. Your chests were impossibly close together and every little noise you made caused her to get more and more aggressive. Your whole body was burning and you were attempting to ignore the wetness that was growing at your center, but Ellie just kept going. She guided your hand further up her thigh, humming into your mouth as you brushed your thumb over her inner thigh.

With the hand that was previously trapped in your hair, you steadied yourself with a hand on her shoulder as you pushed her back in an attempt to straddle her. Both your hands had moved. Her hands found their place at the base of your hips and yours were gripping the back of her neck. Her lips felt like fucking magic as she began to suck on your bottom lip. You could feel a tightness in your core, something you were all too familiar with. Your clothed hips ground down on hers, causing her to gasp and break away from you instantly.

“Fuck, fuck. Okay.” She sighed, leaning away from you and gently pushing you away from her. When you got a good look at her her lips were swollen and eyes red and glossy. You wanted to kiss her again, you wanted to relieve the pain you were beginning to feel, but the situation was beginning to set in for you. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never done that before.” She blinked up at you, her hands rubbing at your sides distracting you. Your mind was practically empty. 

“Was I okay?” You asked bashfully, causing her to snort. All she did was lean up and press a kiss to the side of your lips, before pushing you off of her and back onto the couch. 

“You were more than okay, that was-” She stopped herself as she looked at you. Her eyes scanned your face, staying too long on your lips. “I think your date will go great.” Something in her tone seemed solemn, but she had a gentle smile on her face, and her hand was still hoovering the side of your body.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, eyes never leaving her. 

“I should get back to work, and you should go get ready.” She pushed herself off the couch and made her way back to the dining room table, leaving you sitting there licking your lips just for the taste of her. A second after her you got up too, grabbing your bag from the coffee table in front of you. Ellie turned back around to look at you from the table. 

“Wear the dress, and uh-” She stopped to look you up and down. “Text me when you get home tonight.”

ai audios:

[drenched-in-sunlight]

saying this as respectfully as possible but. Do not put fandom content creators on a pedestal. We are also just fans contributing to a community just as you are. We have boundary on our own work and that’s it. What I say is not and should not be considered sth the whole fandom should listen to. I’m just a normal ass person ranting about things on my blog. If it does not have a fandom tag for others to engage in, do not make it out to be me trying to start fights or addressing the whole community. Because it’s not.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, my art, my lore talk, is biased. I’ve never tried to hide that I view Marika a certain way and will always develop my theory following that base assumption.

Aside from translation stuffs and pointing out in-game items, everything else I say you can look at it, agree or disagree, and move on to form your own opinions. Just because I draw stuffs doesn’t mean you get to saddle me with responsibilities about managing fandom expectations. What the hell? I’m a fan artist, I’m the last person who you should look at for “leaderism” (?) WHAT?

I can and will be a hater in my own space, like I know sometimes other artists will just post their stuffs and not engage too heavily with fandom, and for a while I did try to do that here (because I’m already a dramatic ass on twitter), that’s just not me though.

You will get art and you will get my opinions as well.

[watchyoubloom]

summer nights | drw x f!reader

Summary: Danny’s wearing those short shorts again. (That’s it. That’s the plot.)

(minors dni. 18+. basically just smut and fluff and lots of dialogue idk. all things considered, it’s *tame* but it is still just pwp so….do with that what you will.)

A/N: here i am, over a year later, with another danny fic 🫣 he’s just!!!! stuck in my brain, okay?!

________________________________________________________

It's late by the time the party winds down, leaving just you and Danny by the fire pit. The second Sam cajoles Rosie from her spot where she'd been sleeping on your deck, leashing her for the walk to his car, you'd had your mind made up.

"Want me to lock the door behind me?" Sam asks before he heads inside, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head, then to Danny's. “Think everyone else is gone."

"That would be great, Sammy, thank you," you reply, and you know that it's obvious your mind is elsewhere but you can't seem to bring yourself to care.

Danny had worn those teal shorts tonight, the ones that made his legs look miles long and drew out the color of his tan, and you hadn't been able to keep your eyes— or your hands— off of him.

Usually, Danny was the one who had an arm around your shoulders, or a grip on your thigh, or a hand at your waist. Not that you didn't reciprocate. You were both handsy people- he was just usually already touching you whenever you reached for him. Tonight, though, you couldn't get enough. When he'd leaned forward to pull your chair closer to his so he could stretch an arm out and rest his hand at the back of your neck, thumb swiping into the hairs at your nape, you'd leaned in closer to him, putting your hand on his thigh and scratching your fingernails lightly along his soft skin, through the smattering of darker hair. It was a bit of a stretch with the arms of your big wooden deck chairs between you, but nothing was gonna keep you from touching your boyfriend at the moment.

"Okay?" Danny had asked you quietly, taking a swig out of his beer. He stayed facing the fire, but his eyes trailed to you, his hand squeezing your neck lightly. You hadn't been paying attention to the conversation surrounding you, and he had noticed your distraction.

"Mhmm," you acquiesced, nodding. You were a little tipsy and a whole lot wanting, and decided you didn't want to play coy. You turned your gaze from the fire and let your eyes dance over his face, taking in his features, unable to help the way your eyes flitted to his lips. When you saw his tongue dart out to lick across his bottom lip, you spoke. "Wanna go inside?"

Danny barely suppressed his bark of laughter, turning to look at you incredulously. *What was it you said to me earlier? When you came out in this little sundress and I tried to get you to fool around with me before everyone got here-"

“…I don't remember."

Danny's hand had slipped from your neck to your lower back, his fingers sweeping beneath your loose, low back of your sundress and dancing along your spine. He leaned in a little closer to speak, and he had already been speaking quietly, but now he was whispering. “I believe it was something along the lines of ‘we’re the hosts, Daniel, we can't look frazzled and fucked out’-“

"Okay, fine, I remember," you cut him off, pushing his face away from your ear with your free hand. *I was hoping you didn't.”

"What changed your tune?" Danny had asked, and his hand was at your waist now, still beneath the fabric of your dress.

"You came back downstairs in these fucking shorts," you had said, and then made to stand up. You still weren't close enough, and you were ready to do something about it.

He had halted you in place with the hand on your side, though, stilling you, and you frowned, looking at him again.

"Where are you going, baby?" He had asked, voice still low enough that you were the only one who could hear him. Everyone else was listening to a story Josh was telling, Jake interjecting when he exaggerated too much and Sam laughing as Jake grew more and more annoyed.

"M'coming to sit with you," you said, and tried to stand up again.

"Mm-mm. You stay there," Danny murmured, stilling you again. He had pulled you a little further into him, then, and you went willingly. You rested your head on the outside of his shoulder, your hand still squeezing his thigh. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to your temple, and let his lips linger as he spoke again. "If I get you in my lap now, these guys are gonna get a show they didn't ask for."

A heady feeling washed over you, and you shifted slightly, kissing his shoulder, exposed because of the tank he's wearing, and you rested your chin atop it so you could look at your boyfriend again. You wanted to see his face for this next part. "I dunno, baby, I think Sammy might like a show. Or maybe he'd like to-“

Danny's jaw had clenched, his hand on your waist gripping a little harder, and you’d trailed off as you watched his nostrils flare with the sharp inhale he took in at your words, at the way the muscle in his jaw jumped. "Careful, honey," he warned, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he looked at you. "You sure you're ready for that? I'll go ask him right now."

It was something you'd talked about before, but you'd been too nervous to do anything about it yet. You bit your lip as you let your gaze wander to a few feet away, where Sammy was sitting in his own chair, engaged in whatever story was being told now. His hair was in a messy bun atop his head, a few strands that had fallen loose framing his face. He must have felt your eyes on him because he met your gaze, smiling and sending you a wink before returning back to the conversation.

"He'd say yes." Danny said, following your sight line. "He'd say yes to us, baby, do you wanna go ask him?"

Your eyes shot back to your boyfriend to find him already watching you again, and how had this turned around on you so quickly? You'd been trying to rile him up, and now here you were, heat pooling in between your legs and flushing across your cheeks.

You shook your head minutely, barely a movement, but Danny caught it and nodded, knew the unspoken not yet that hadn't quite made it to your lips. He leaned in and kissed your forehead, then beside your eye, and grasped the seat of your chair to slide you even closer than he'd gotten you the first time. You could lean against his side a little easier, now, the arm of the chair digging into your own side just enough to provide the distraction you seemed to need.

"Could've just let me in your lap," you muttered. "Didn't have to play dirty like that."

"You started it," Danny retorted. He dropped his voice low again, tilting his head to whisper into your ear. "And I told you- I can't have you in my lap right now. Not unless I'm buried inside you so deep-“

"Daniel," you cut him off, squeezing his leg. Your hand was high up on his thigh, and you tucked your fingertips under the hem of his shorts. "Unless you do actually want to give our guests a show tonight, I need you to either stop talking—now— or take me inside."

And then you sat back up a little, leaning against the back of your own chair. You were getting so turned on you'd probably have let him take you right there, in front of the boys and the rest of your company, if he'd decided that's what he wanted to do, so you needed to put some space between you before you did actually jump his bones. You'd mournfully removed your hand from his leg, as well. He didn't let you go far, though, shifting in his own chair to lean closer to you, taking his arm from around your middle and bringing his hand to grasp your thigh. It was easier for him, taller and longer limbed, and you succumbed to his touch, watching his long fingers as they squeezed your leg.

And that is where you had stayed, so turned on you were practically vibrating with the tension of it, until your guests had started to leave.

Sam had kissed you both goodnight, giving Danny a knowing smirk over the top of your head, and left through the house, promising to lock the door behind him. You’d waited until you heard his car start and back out of the drive before you were standing out of your seat.

Danny made to follow suit, but you stopped him with a hand on his chest, pushing him back into his chair and climbing into his lap. "You're the worst," you say, straddling his legs. You sit back a bit and look down in between you, rubbing your hands along the tops of his thighs until your fingertips brushed under the hem of the shorts. His hands are gripping your hips, his fingers flexing. “You come down in these, and you look like that, and you won't let me sit in your lap?"

He spreads his legs a little in response, looking up at you with a hint of a smirk, and you have to kiss him, unable to wait anymore. You're still mostly up on your knees, leaning over him, and you anchor yourself with a hand on his chest and one on the side of his neck, sliding your fingers into his hair and tilting his head back how you want him before closing the distance and capturing his lips with yours.

You take your time kissing him, now that you can do so without having to worry about getting carried away in front of guests. He’s warm under you, sun-kissed and flushed, and his kisses taste of the tequila soda you’d been sharing as everyone was heading out, of the lime he’d stolen from you and sucked the juice from with a wink.

You waste no time at all in getting his shorts unbuttoned and slipping your hand down the front of them, cupping Danny’s length over his boxers and smiling against his mouth when he pushes up into your grasp. He helps you, cants his hips up slightly so you can get the band of his boxers down just enough to be able to fully take him in hand.

"You are not getting naked out here," Danny says, succinct as he can be with you pressed all along his front, your arm wedged in between you and your hand still mostly down the front of his shorts. "Absolutely not."

"What happened to putting on a show?" You ask, canting your hips back just enough to be able to shift your angle, get a better grip around him. You nip at his jaw, kiss along the line of it until your lips are against his ear. *Wanna ride you. With the shorts on."

"The shorts really do it for you, huh?" Danny manages through a shaky breath when you twist your hand just right.

"No, baby, it's your fucking legs in them," you reply, and you grind down against him to prove your point. "Look so good.”

"Still not getting you naked out here." Danny responds, reaching up to cup your face in his hands and draw you to him, slanting his lips against yours. He distracts you with the kiss, licking into your mouth, threading the fingers of one hand back into your hair and holding your against him.

"Don't have to," you say against his mouth, in between kisses. "Lift up my dress."

Danny pulls back enough to look at you, raising an eyebrow in question. You withdraw your hand from the front of his shorts, waiting for him to play along.He narrows his eyes at you, and you know why- this particular dress looks so similar to one of the athleisure ones you have and love to wear, the kind with the shorts beneath. You know without a doubt that he thinks you're wearing that one.

After another second, though, he complies. He slides one hand under the hem of your dress and up the outside of your leg at the same time that he lifts the fabric draped across your legs and his lap, moving it just enough to see that you are not, in fact, wearing a dress with shorts under it. In fact, you're not wearing anything beneath.

"Jesus, baby, are you trying to kill me?" Danny asks, and the hand that had been traveling up the outside of your leg grips your hip. "You've been mine for the taking all night long and you're just telling me this now?"

He hasn't taken his eyes off of what's under your dress- or, rather, what isn't under your dress- until now, and his eyes flick up to meet yours, just long enough to see you shake your head before his eyes dip back below the hem of your dress.

“Took 'em off when I went inside a couple hours ago," you say.

He's captivated, is keeping the hem of your dress lifted just enough to be able to see beneath it as he trails his hand from your hip to in between your legs, turning his hand so it's palm up and rubbing two long fingers through your folds. You keen and rock into his hand, seeking his touch any way you can get it.

"Oh, fuck," Danny says as he feels how wet you are. He pulls his hand back, though, and you almost whine at the loss of his touch where you've wanted him most all night, but then he's gripping both of your hips and pulling you as close to him as possible. His hips rut up against you, the action almost involuntary, and the quick motion lists you forward. You catch yourself with your hands on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his tank top when he moves his hand back between your legs. "Baby, need to feel you-“

"Yes," you manage through a gasp, eyes fluttering shut as he slides a finger inside you. You bite down on your lower lip, tugging it between your teeth, and give in to the feeling of his finger moving so perfectly inside you.

"Want another?" He asks after a few moments pass, and you open your eyes to look at him- except he's looking down in between you, raising the hem of your dress with his free hand again. "Lemme see you."

You nod and manage a mhmm with your lip still caught between your teeth, and he looks up at you then. "Hey, no," he says, and uses the hand not currently inside you to reach up and grasp your face gently, bringing his thumb to your mouth and tugging your bottom lip free. "Wanna hear you."

"Can't get me naked outside but can let the neighbors hear me?" You ask, managing a modicum of sass until he pushes in a second finger alongside his first. "Oh, fuck-"

He's picked up the hem of your dress again to watch as he fingers you- he's always so obsessed with seeing you take him, be it fingers or his cock- and he's captivated for a moment, keeping a slow pace as he fucks you on his hand. "That's my girl,” he murmurs, and you don't know if it's in response to hearing you or how you're taking him prepping you. His eyes dart up to watch your face as his thumb finds your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Feel good?"

"So good, Danny, honey," you say through a gasp, nodding your head. You reach up and smooth his hair back off of his face, fingers trembling a bit with how good he's making you feel. Your eyes flit to his lips. *Wanna kiss, can I have-"

Danny grins up at you and surges forward to capture your lips with his, wasting no time claiming your mouth with his tongue. His free hand finds the back of your neck, holding you to him, and he deepens the kiss at the same time he crooks his fingers inside you, chuckling into it when you tighten around him, breath catching. You're close to that precipice already, Danny's expert fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Wait, wait, don't wanna come-" you say between kisses. Danny stills his hand immediately, but keeps kissing you, huffing out a laugh against your lips when your hips continue to rock against him. You slow your movements, bringing yourself back from the edge, and pull back from his kiss, pressing your forehead against his. "Need to- need you-“

*You have me." Danny murmurs, kissing your lips again. "Let me make you come, sweet girl, want to-"

"No, not yet," you say again, too caught up in his kiss to further explain yourself. Instead, you reach down between the two of you, palming across the front of his shorts. You had a goal in mind, tonight, and you weren't ready to abandon it yet. “Said I wanted to ride you, remember? It's all l've been thinking about, wanna come with you inside-"

Danny groans at your words, nodding and withdrawing his fingers, helping you make quick work of getting his shorts down enough that you can pull him free. His takes a shuddering breath when you wrap your hand around him, giving him a few strokes before pushing up on your knees and lining him up at your entrance.

"You really are trying to kill me tonight, huh?" He asks, looking up at you, and he grins when you wink at him. It's short lived, though, and he drops his head back against his chair with a groan when you start to sink down into him without any warning.

"Fuck, sweetheart," Danny grits out, jaw clenched. His hands are spanning your hips now, fingers digging in, and you can tell he's trying not to move his own hips as you work to accommodate his size. His throat is exposed with how he's leaning his head back, and you can't help but lean in and nip at his Adam's apple, soothing the spot with a kiss right after. You sink a little further down, thighs burning with the strain of going slow, and you feel Danny twitch against you, inside you- “How do you always feel so fucking good, Christ, it's like you were made for me-“

His words and the feeling of him inside you finally brings you back to the edge of your orgasm almost immediately. Danny must be able to feel it, knows your body and your tells almost better than you do, because he brings a hand back between you and starts rubbing over your clit just how you like. "Give me one, sweetheart." he murmurs. "M'inside you, now, let me have it-“

It really doesn't take more than that to get you there- you come with a cry of Danny's name, one hand on his shoulder and the other on top of his where it's gripping your hip.

"Oh, my God, baby, you feel so good, you're perfect," Danny talks you through it, rambling as you ride the wave of your first orgasm, even though he's gripping your hip so tight with his effort to stay still that you'll probably have bruises. He’ll see them in the morning and frown, will apologize and kiss them gently, and you’ll card your fingers through his curls and tell him- not for the first time- that you don’t mind it when he marks you up.

The pleasure of your orgasm allows you to finish taking him, sinking down until he's buried all the way inside you. He keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing at it languidly, enough to draw out the pleasure without it being too much and watching your face for a cue that it's okay for him to move.

After a few more moments of you holding still, Danny chokes out a hoarse, "Honey, can I- need to-" and you nod, leaning in and pressing your face into the crook of his neck, kissing and nipping at the skin there as he takes control. He’s gripping your hip with one hand and has the other arm banded around your back, and he holds you to him as he plants his feet and starts to move his hips. It’s slow at first, still giving you time to recover, but the way he’s filling you, hitting that perfect spot inside with each languid thrust has your legs feeling like jello. After a few moments, you sit back up, attention back on your goal. You’re up on your knees enough that you can start meeting him thrust for thrust, lowering yourself when he cants his hips up and loving the way he groans when you start moving.

You meet Danny’s eyes, one hand on his shoulder, big and warm under your palm, and the other on the side of his neck. You slow your movement and he follows suit, eyes fluttering shut when you seat yourself fully on him and roll your hips, squeezing around him. His face is flushed, a delicious pink from the day’s sun and your night time activities spreading from his cheeks down his neck. The freckles dusting his nose are standing out more with each day of summer that passes. He’s moved down in the chair a bit, leaning his head against the back edge, and your eyes roam from his face to what part of his chest you can get a glimpse of, then to his waist and his hips. Where you’re joined is hidden by the hem of your dress again, and you look up to see Danny watching you.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” you say, unable to help yourself, and it earns you a grin.

”Look who’s talking. Come here,” Danny replies, and reaches up to cup the side of your neck and draw you to him for another kiss. It changes the angle, slightly, and you gasp into his mouth, clenching around him when he nips at your bottom lip.

That’s what does it for him, his hands coming down to settle at your hips and hold you tight and he starts moving faster, angling each thrust perfectly and stealing your breath.

“Gonna come again?” He asks you, his thumb back on your clit, and you nod, knowing he can feel that you’re getting close. “Cause I- fuck, I think I’ve hit my limit on how chill I can remain about this situation we’re in-“

You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend, hot as sin and goofy as hell and everything you could ever want. “Coulda just fucked me earlier,” you remind him, unable to resist teasing him some more. “Maybe Sammy would’ve heard us and come to see if we needed a- a hand-“

You stutter on the last couple of words and trail off as Danny starts fucking you harder, turning his head to press a kiss to your wrist where it rests beside his head, your hand holding on to the back of the chair. He nips at the skin of the inside of your wrist before snaking his arm around your back and grasping your shoulder with his hand.

You can tell he’s close, and you are too, so you keep talking. “Gonna come, baby, I’m so close again already, want you to come with me-“

“Me too,“ he says, tugging you to him and biting at your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. “Where-?”

“Inside, want it inside,” you answer immediately. You’re on protection, but he asks every time, and you love him even more for it. “Wanna feel you-“

Danny’s hips stutter and he groans as he comes, fucking up into you with abandon, and it draws you over the edge as well. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and come with a cry of his name, shuddering around him as your orgasm drags you under.

He fucks you through it, slowing the movement of his fingers and his hips so he doesn’t overstimulate you. It’s only once you’ve both regained your breath that he speaks.

“Shit,” he says, and he kisses the corner of your mouth when you sit up. He drapes your dress back over you, making sure you’re covered. “Should have brought you inside first, it’s gonna be a mess when I pull out-“

You cut him off with a kiss of your own. “It’s fine, Dan,” you say, unable to help pressing another kiss to his lips. “Besides, you know I like it when I can feel you dripping down-“

“Oh my God,” Danny groans and covers your mouth with his hand, and you can’t help but giggle when you feel his dick twitch from where he’s still buried inside you. “You are trying to kill me.”

[eggcats]

I saw someone mention that because Alastor is a radio host, music is the one thing he stays up to date and modern on and I totally agree.

(Granted, most of what he plays on his OWN show and through his microphone/himself is stuff he listened to when he was alive, but he's not unaware of music that's been broadcast since then. He quite likes the jazz and swing that's been created since his death, and does play that on his station as well.)

When the mood strikes, he does take requests from callers into his station, and quite often allows suggestions that aren't his normal listening experience or what he typically plays.

(Alastor finds it entertaining the type of people who not only listen, but also call in to request songs and/or ask advice, and he is nothing if not an exceptional radio host who will keep listener engagement.)

All this is to say, is I had a funny thought but had to preface with my own headcanons to even make it make sense.

One night, Vox gets drunk and "anonymously" calls into Alastor's radio show and rants and rambles about how much they were good together and that he'll do whatever to get Alastor back!

(It's up to you to decide what their pre-enemies relationship even was, here. How delusional IS Vox being? Choose your own adventure. Regardless, Alastor has absolutely no interest in having Any kind of relationship with Vox.)

Alastor doesn't do much other than play the phone call over his station, make some quip about not being interested in desperate clout-chasers, and then plays "Feather" by Sabrina Carpenter.

(The rest of his broadcast is spent playing similar songs. It's the one time when his entire broadcast is modern music.)

It takes Velvette at least a week straight to scrub any digital recording of the phone call or even the entire broadcast off the internet.

(Angel has a copy. Occasionally, he re-uploads it to cause chaos and because, as a reward, Alastor lets him touch his ears for one full minute.)

Alastor never even needs to name drop Vox here, everyone just Knows.

[baejax-the-great]

Fanfic isn't a possession.

When an author deletes a work on AO3, they haven't taken anything from the readers. It's not a physical object that can be snatched away, and if readers wanted a digital copy to keep, AO3 made that possible. It is the reader's choice whether or not to keep a copy. The author has absolutely no say over whether or not they do this.

If you have a favorite exhibit at the museum, and that exhibit closes for whatever reason, nobody "stole" art from you. Same thing with whatever play is currently at your local theater--it's temporary, and when it closes, the actors didn't take away your entertainment. Before streaming and box sets of tv shows being sold at Target, all of television was ephemeral, too. You caught it or you didn't.

I don't know why there is an expectation that fanfic should be permanently made available to readers. The archive certainly gives a place where that can happen, but there is no reason to assume that it always will happen, nor that readers are entitled to that.

There are many reasons to delete a fanfic--not orphan, not post anonymously, but delete. It's fine to be disappointed if that happens. It's not fine to harass authors or try to wrest control of the work from them or create archives full of stolen work.

[beelmons]

Escapade 5

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader Rating: Explicit, readers under 18 are not advised to read this story. Tags: smut, best friends to lovers, possible angst at some point, porn with plot, mentions of weapons, minor OC appeareances for plot purposes, mentions of death for plot purposes, unprotected sex, reader drinks a bit of alcohol. Summary: The case gets stuck, but Spencer is by your side to keep you going. Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 / 3: Bonus | 4 | 5 | 6 A/N: this one doesn't have as much action ifykwim, mostly plot building, but bear with me, lots of action coming. Tag list: @punkndisorderrly @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @amywright

Ever heard the expression ‘do not speak ill of the dead’? One of the most misunderstood sayings in the english language, if you were to say so yourself. Through the many years of working in law enforcement, you had come to realize that all it took for the most heinous, horrendous, and evil crimes to go away in the minds of the people was no other than dying.

The interviews didn’t take you anywhere. Every agent was a god-sent angel in the eyes of their loved ones. No criminal record, no wrong-doings, model citizens if someone were to ask you. No additional disappearances or deaths, either, the UnSub had gone dormant, which meant two things: first, the good news, it indicated the possibility that your friend and the HR clerk were probably still alive. Second, for the bad part, without any more victims, getting new leads would be difficult, and the risk of the case going cold was greater.

—We need to go back to victimology. —Emily pointed out.

—If we go over victimology one more time, I will hand in my resignation. —Morgan answered— we have two bodies, no forensic evidence, no clear M.O. other than the deaths being sloppily staged as a suicide, and the only thing linking these people so far, it’s that they were all part of the same FBI academy class. 

—Okay, what about the profile? —JJ asked.

—We can only have a draft for now, the information we’ve got is not enough. —Rossi responded— We know it’s gotta be someone who is reckless or imbalanced, hence why he got kicked out of the academy, but smart enough to be admitted as a trainee in the first place. He has criminology knowledge, yet that can be easily explained by his time as a trainee. 25 to 35 years old. Underachiever. Narcissistic. Mission oriented…

—So, our average weirdo. —Penelope interrupted him, and Rossi nodded in disappointment.

Everyone’s spirit seemed to be down. Empty containers of chinese food laid on top of the round table mixed with files and gruesome crime scenes pictures. No one was paying attention anymore. Hotch decided to look at the time, it was close to midnight. It had been the third night in a row the team had put in the extra hours, not that it was anything out of the ordinary, but the burn out was evident.

—Alright, everyone, let’s go home. —the boss commanded.

—Hotch, we’re not any closer to finding these men. —the muscular man mentioned.

—We’re not doing ourselves any favors by exhausting our energy. Unfortunately, we won’t have much to go on until…

—Until another victim turns up? —you asked, your tone slightly accusatory.

—I understand it’s hard, but that’s usually how profiling works. —everyone shot you a look at his words, mostly trying to make sure you still felt okay. You simply sighed and shrugged the question off. Aaron kept staring to figure out your emotions, but given the time, and the fact that you were also exhausted, he decided it was better to not profile you— We’ll come in at 10, make sure to rest well, we’ll start fresh tomorrow and, hopefully, we’ll be able to see something new.

The team began to gather their belongings, and one by one gave you a reassuring pat on the back before they exited the building. Hotch and Reid were the only ones left while you were still on your desk, reluctantly putting your stuff in your bag to go home.

—Are you going down? —your boss asked, his briefcase already dangling from his hand, your best friend standing next to him.

—Uh, you can go ahead —you replied— I have to do something, but I’ll be right down. —with that said, you stood up and directed yourself to the bathroom. The two men exchanged puzzled glances and sighed in defeat.

You took your time staring at your own reflection. You looked like hell, gently put. You hadn’t slept much. Mixed feelings and thoughts haunting the possibility of unconsciousness every night since his disappearance. You knew it was their job, but the truth was that your team was working extra-hard to help you through it, and you hadn’t been exactly the most pleasant companion during the investigation. Your hostility towards Hotch was unfunded, his patience with you even more so, and you knew you would have to apologize later.

There was no use beating yourself over it now, but you just couldn’t go and rest while your friend’s body could turn up at any minute. You threw some cold water over your face to scare off the drowsiness and decided to head back to the round table. To your surprise, a familiar shape was already sitting on his usual spot during morning meetings.

—What are you still doing here, Reid? —you asked. His head immediately raised to meet your eyes with a faint smile.

—I knew you would stay behind. Figured you could use some company.

—Well, you could use some sleep.

—I had a very heavy dinner, the kitchen’s coffee pot is filled to the brim with espresso, and if I need a nap, I’ll just take Morgan’s couch. —his talking was fast, not allowing for you to interrupt him at any second, and once he was done, he signaled to the chair next to him which already had an open file before it.

You rolled your eyes at his persistence. However, you knew that deep down you were just trying to deflect the warmth that it spread to your chest, but at last you decided to obey his command. Within seconds, both of your heads were buried in FBI files. You decided to go back to victimology, and after an hour of rolling over it, you had come to the same conclusions as earlier that week. Frustrated, you threw the folder on the table, letting it shut close, and you leaned back on your chair, a loud huff leaving your lips as you stared at the ceiling.

—This was dumb, we’re not getting anywhere. Let’s just call it a night. —you spurted out in disappointment.

—Come on, we can still crack something new. —Spencer said without looking up from the paper he was reading.

—Perhaps these were just victims of opportunity. Nothing about this makes sense. The only person who sticks out is Conrad, and even so, he was just a DC police desk clerk, who would have a problem with him? —you continued to complain, part of it was directed to yourself, still angered that you hadn’t been able to figure it out. After seconds of silence, you realized Spencer hadn’t added anything to the conversation, and so you turned to look at him. To your surprise, he was already intently looking at your expression with pity written on his face, which took you aback— What?

—Nothing. It’s just… —he made a quick pause— I know you’re fond of him, but during the entire investigation you haven’t really mentioned him much.

He was right. You had refrained yourself from saying his name. You figured, maybe, if you held to the same hope the families did, if you kept him frozen in your memories, if you remembered him as your old friend, and not as a victim, he would remain as such, and the next day he would be safe and sound, like he had been years ago. Your brows furrowed and your hands went back to the table.

—You don’t expect doctors to get sick, right? What kind of agent am I if I can’t keep safe the very people I wanted to protect in the first place? —you said, pain vibrating in your voice. 

—Only that doctors do get sick.

—Yeah, I guess you are right. —your tone dropped at his observation, sadness taking over you instead.

—Can I ask you something rather personal? —Reid inquired once he realized the emotions he had stirred. You raised your eyebrows curiously, but nodded in agreement anyways— How come you hadn’t contacted him in so long? I mean, I know this job can get in the way of many things, but not even a phone call?

Yes, Spencer was bad at fixing unfortunate comments. Yet, he wasn’t wrong. There were many reasons to not look back at your old pal, to not seek him after, but just as one shall not speak ill of the dead, you had refused to go over the bad memories that would taint the image you had of him. Nonetheless, there was no fooling Spencer, not only because he was a human lie detector, but because he knew you better than anyone else.

—Have you ever looked back and realized you didn’t really like the person you were? —your elbow propped on the table and your cheek rested on your palm to be looking at Spencer. You watched as he took a quick glance at his forearm, and he cleared his throat before he nodded; reality hit you that he was probably remembering the time he struggled with addiction, and you felt a wave of guilt in you, paired with intense pride. He had overcome it almost by himself, but before you allowed your mind to sink deep into the marvelous being Spencer Reid was, you continued your story. —He guided me through my first days of the academy, I was new to Virginia, everything was scary. He became my best friend, I trusted him, during tactical missions, during exams, he had my back, I had his.

—Then what happened? —he asked once you stopped to gather your breath.

—He was holding me back. —you admitted out loud for the first time in your life, him being the first person you have ever told this to— Gideon was teaching a mental disorders assessment class back then, and I got really into it, and so did Conrad, but I was the one who formed rapport with Jason, a friendship really, and so he would help me outside of class, show me additional techniques and cases, he introduced me to Hotch, all while Conrad was struggling to pass his S.W.A.T certifications.

—We met around that time. —he pointed out, smiling a bit to himself. 

—Right, I was doing research for a class and Gideon showed me around the office, and he ended up introducing us. I met Morgan as well, and Elle was still here. —you smiled as you recalled your first time within these walls— See? I was going places, I was trying to start my career, I really wanted to be hired as a Special Agent, and so did Conrad, no matter what it took. Before the final tactical exam, we had to take the mental disorders assessment test. He was already engaged back then, you know? And I knew he was having problems with his fiancé, he came to me, he said he was feeling depressed, and he wanted to make sure it wouldn’t turn up on his assessment, that it was temporary until things got better. He asked me to make a mock test from him, since I surely had access to the test beforehand.

—Because we, the BAU, were the ones who made the questions. —Spencer mentioned in a sudden realization, and you nodded ashamedly.

—I had already taken mine, and so I told Gideon I wanted to quote it for my research, and he gave me a copy. Conrad took it, I went over his answers, and I taught him what to change in order to pass the evaluation.

—Did you ever tell Gideon?

—No. —you shook your head— I knew him enough to understand he would have ended my career then and there, and if anyone were to find out now, I could have my badge taken away. 

—What were the results? —he asked with genuine curiosity, although disapprovingly shaking his head.

—Lack of social skills, narcissistic tendencies, present sociopathy-related traits. He would have never gotten a badge; he wouldn’t have even been allowed to do the final tactical exam if it weren’t for me.

—You put a lot at risk for him. —he paused as if he was trying to find the right way to phrase his next question— Why?

—He was my partner, I felt like I had a duty to protect him. —you reached over to land a hand on his shoulder— Like I have protected you, and will continue to protect you. 

—Yeah, but I would never ask you to do anything like that. I wouldn’t jeopardize your dreams for my own sake. 

—I know. —you said sincerely— It was stupid and reckless. But it made me realize something important; that it didn’t matter how much I cared for Conrad, he needed me more than I needed him, I was going to be okay on my own. After he got married, I figured, well, he’s someone else’s problem now, you know?

Your latter sentence felt a lot more relaxed, and you said it in a half-heartedly joking manner. You realized, however, that Spencer had stopped paying attention somewhere along the way, his lips were parted open, and he had that dissociated look in his eyes.

—Needed him more…—he mumbled as he reached out for Conrad’s file—That’s it!

—What’s it? —you asked as you watched him stand up away from your reach and toward the board.

—Think about it, you’re an Unsub, if your purpose is to kill, why would you keep someone around?

—Well, —you took a second to rack your brain— if they were the object of my rage, I would torture them first.

—But there’s no record of sadism, in fact, both deaths so far have been rather painless. He hasn’t killed Carlos or Conrad because he needs them to get to the real object of his rage. —he began to speak faster by the second— We know he’s targeting FBI employees that have some connection to his time in the academy, but even administrative clerks have their files protected by the FBI database encryption system, hence why he needs Carlos, he’s a Human Resources clerk at Quantico, he has access to the files, addresses, phone numbers, anything so employees can be localized. However, if his end game is to kill an SSA or a higher rank, their files would be far more complicated to obtain. You need to put in a requisition and it has to be approved by other HR superiors and then accessed with your own password, so he would need to keep Carlos alive until he got the approval. 

—But why would he need Conrad then?

—This is just a theory, but there were no signs of forced entry in any of the victims’ houses, which suggests they either knew the UnSub or he presented as non-threatening. Both murders were late at night and in not exactly the safest areas. Who do you open the door for, without hesitation, in the middle of the night and in the heart of a big metropolitan city?

—The police. —you said with certain disbelief.

—Smith was put on desk duty, but he was hired as a cop, he was never demoted, just moved, which means he gets to keep his badge, and that his badge number is still active. —he pointed at the information on the file— I don’t know how, but I think he’s using officer Smith to have access to the houses, and Carlos to get their locations. 

—There’s one problem, though, how did he get the locations for the first two employees? He didn’t have access to Carlos yet, he was only reported missing after the first two bodies appeared. 

Your observation put Reid back into deep thought, he stared at the timeline drawn on the board again, and suddenly, an idea popped into his head, or so you could notice by the way he fumbled with his phone, quickly dialing a known number. 

—Hi, Garcia?—he began talking into the speaker—Yes, I know it’s 2 am, and I’m very sorry, but I really need you to check something for me. Do you have access to the HR databases from your home computer? —he waited a second for her to respond— I don’t really need anything deep right now, I just want to confirm if Carlos Gonzalez was actively working during the two weeks prior to his disappearance. We might have caught a break, but I want to confirm a theory before I call everyone in again. Okay, contact me back if you have something. —with said words, he hung up the phone and turned to look at you. 

—You’re thinking Carlos disappeared way before he was reported missing, aren’t you? —you inquired as you watched him move some things up on the board

—If I’m right, it means he’s had Carlos help him all along. 

—As hostage or partner? —you asked him, but he simply shook his head, unsure of what the real answer was. He fell quiet, and his hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, it was obvious he was nervous about something. Your eyebrows raised questioningly, it would be so much easier if he just spoke up his mind whenever he got a new thought— What now? 

—It would also confirm that you’re part of the suspect pool. 

—Well, if he has my file, he’ll know that I was the best tactical in my class, so good luck. —your eyes had traveled back to the board, your arms crossed over your chest as you examined the evidence hung from it. Out of the corner of your eye, you were able to spot Spencer dropping his head, and you turned to confirm he was alright; instead, you heard him sniffle. Panic took over you, and you reached closer to cup his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. —Hey, hey, what’s going on? 

—I just… —he started, struggling to find the right words— Garcia has been shot, Foyet got to Haley, Gideon couldn’t stop Frank, —he made a small pause to swallow a particularly thick knot on his throat— and doctors can get sick. 

—Nothing’s gonna happen to me, Spencer. You hear me? —you said resolutely. You didn’t realize when, but his arms had wrapped around your middle, and slowly your arms began to circle the area of his neck. —You’re not getting rid of me that easily. 

He still seemed unable to speak. His head simply leaned forward, forehead falling on yours. His eyes fluttered closed, and you allowed yourself to do so as well. After seconds of complete silence, an eternal moment of enjoying each other’s presence, you felt his hands explore further up, he caressed up your clothed back until one of them finally reached your hair. His fingers tangled on your locks and he finally pushed your head toward him, letting his lips fall on yours in a deep kiss. 

This one was different from the ones you had shared before during sex, it was deep, but slow, your lips moved so gently because his were also taking their time. He was savoring you, and you could tell. Your breaths were loud, every so often gasping for air, mouths unable, and unwilling, to pull apart. The ringing of his phone reminded you briefly of where you were and who was kissing you, but firm hands against your cheeks kept your head in place before you could pull away. He had the utter intention to ignore it, but right before the last tone rang he seemed to remember that he was, indeed, waiting for a call. 

—It’s Garcia. —he mumbled against your lips as he pulled away and rushed to get the device from the table, hitting the speaker button right away— Hey, Penelope, you are on speaker. 

—For a second I thought you weren’t going to pick up, and I swear to God, Reid, if you had woken me up from my beauty slumber, in which Ricky Martin was swearing eternal devotion to me, solely so you could fall asleep right away, the punishment I’d have landed upon you would have made those medieval torture instruments documentaries, that you like so much, look like the hairspray movie, and yes, I do mean the one with John Travolta. —Spencer and you exchanged horrified glances, unable to form a sentence to answer her— Anyways, I can’t access the files from my house network, I’d have to come into the office to connect through LAN to get them without being flagged as a national threat, again. But catch this, your boy Carlos bought a complete package deal on GayEuropeanTours.com, and I mean the whole package, Madrid, Milan, Paris, Berlin, Amsterdam, Brussels, like the party capitals. His plane was supposed to arrive in Barcelona one week before the first murder and the entire tour was supposed to last about three weeks. 

—Is there any way to confirm that he wasn’t on that plane? —you asked on the phone. 

—I can’t have access to airline databases from here, this info I got from a facebook post he made two months ago. However, check this out, no one would pay so much money for a trip without posting pictures to brag a bit, right? His instagram has quite the few of them on it. 

—So he did go on the trip. —Reid muttered disappointed. 

—Tonight we finally have proof of who’s the smartest blond in the office, my dear braniac. —Penelope bragged, and Spencer furrowed his brows in confusion— Social media can say a lot about a person, Reid, Carlos would often post pictures of himself, his outfits, selfies, he was all about that self-love, but the europe ones include only food and places, beautiful architecture by the way, yet his face nowhere to be seen, I reverse-searched some of them and found out they were taken off the internet; and it doesn’t end there, I also looked at the metadata of the pictures, they were all posted at the same time, one per day, and through what seems to be an automated third party service to schedule posts. 

—Can we get a location? —he asked 

—My tracking software is at the office, but I’m packing my things as we speak. 

—Penelope, call Morgan and Prentiss, Spencer get Hotch and brief him on what we deduced so far, I’ll get JJ and Rossi, if we can track a location tonight, we might still be able to find Conrad alive. —you ordered the two of them and heard the line go dead at the end of your sentence. 

Spencer hurried to get his phone to dial Hotch’s number as fast as he could, and you stuck to your own orders, getting Rossi on the line almost right away. It felt good, the hope invading your body once again, it beamed, it felt warm and cold at the same time. There was a chance, a chance to save him. A chance for things to go back to what they were.

—Hotch? Listen, we figured out something important, we need everyone back as soon as- —you heard him stop mid-sentence while you waited for the call to connect to Jennifer’s number, but before you heard her voice, Spencer turned in your direction, his voice sounding concerned and surprised— What?

—What is it? — you rushed to ask, his concern quickly rubbing on you. 

—They just found another body that might be connected to our unsub. 

—But we never got a missing person’s report. —you pointed out with disbelief. 

Spencer’s saddened eyes gave you the answer you were avoiding to find. No one else had been reported, so the body could belong to any of the two current missing people. Either Carlos Gonzalez, or Conrad Smith. 

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Old School Love | AU

summary: You've been dating Harry for a short time, and he's finally ready to get something off his chest.

word count: 2.1k

read time: 9 min

content warning ⚠️: vampire!harry, fluff, mentions of blood

a/n: reading twilight at such a young age did a number on my frontal lobe...

Old School Love Universe

“That’s not funny Harry.” You chuckle nervously, waiting for him to crack. To let you in on the joke, but he doesn’t. He just looks at you clearing his throat. “Come on. I mean - There’s no way.” you stutter. “You’re joking.” 

Harry shakes his head slowly, reaching for your hand he brings your palm, under his hoodie, to rest over his heart. 

“Feel.” he says quietly, looking into your eyes deeply. This is the best way he figures he can confirm it for you, and it’s the closest he’s ever allowed you to be to him. You’ve held hands, but anything more than that or quick pecks, has always been out of the question. “I just need time.” Harry had said. It was a boundary you respected as you had only been seeing each other for a short time. Harry’s version of intimacy was different than anything you’d experienced before, a huge change of pace from all the men eager to jump in bed with you of the recent past. But what you were ‘missing’ in physical intimacy, Harry made sure to make up for with emotional intimacy. You never felt like you were missing anything. 

But now, with your hand on his chest, being so close to him in his apartment for the first time, and with what he’d just revealed. It’s starting to make sense. You press your hand harder into his chest, searching for it, but you're shocked at what you feel. Or rather don’t feel. 

A heartbeat. 

Not even a slow one, there was nothing. His skin felt warm enough to the touch, maybe a little below average. But you had always chucked it up to him running cold, like you. Anemic perhaps. But there was no mistaking the fact that there wasn't a steady heartbeat where there should be.

You stare at where your hand is beneath his hoodie, eyebrows furrowed. “Say something.” Harry pleads. 

“You’re serious.” your voice is even, but Harry can hear the racing rhythm of your heartbeat, and the shallowness of your breathing. He waits for you to scream, run, something. Instead,  you pull your hands into your lap, leaning back into his couch, tucking a leg under you. . 

“Afraid so,” he says, with a sad smile, “I know it’s unbelievable…for you, but -”  

“You're a vampire.” you whisper, looking up at him. The word feels different rolling off your tongue now more than it ever has. You’ve read books, and seen movies. It was one of your favorite genres. Fantasy. 

But this wasn’t fantasy, this was real. And you didn’t have the words, and your mind was reeling. You had so many questions. 

“Yeah.” Harry confirms. Harry had never told anyone, but he supposes this is as good of a reaction as he could get, and knowing that your first instinct wasn’t to run made him feel more validated in his feelings for you. In his reasoning for telling you. This is the right decision he thought. “I’ve never - really said it. Outloud after all these years.” 

“Why me?” you ask, “I mean, why are you telling me?” 

“Because I care about you. Quite a lot actually.”A vampire ‘perk’ as he begrudgingly called it. Heightened emotion. “I know so much about you but I feel like I’ve been lying to you this whole time. I don’t want to do that anymore.” 

“I see.” you contemplate. You nibble on your bottom lip. 

“Are you disgusted by me now? Or,” he takes a deep breath, chewing on his own lip, “scared?”

At the utterance of the word, you look back over to him reaching for his hands, holding one of his in both of your much smaller, and warmer ones. 

“No!” you rush out, “No Harry, I’m not scared or disgusted, just trying to wrap my head around it all. You’re still you, right? I mean there’s nothing you’ve lied to me about? Besides the obvious.” you ask and he shakes his head. 

“No. Nothing. I’ve been honest the entire time, just kept a few things safe.” 

“Well then we’re okay.” You’re sure you’re still in shock, but your knee jerk reaction wasn’t to run or call Harry crazy. And while you questioned what that said about you, it only made Harry feel even more safe around you than he already did. Safer than he has in decades. There were sure to be things that came up, that you’d need to work through, you two were fully aware, but for now…everything was going to be okay. 

“A lot is making sense now.” you say, moving closer to him on the small loveseat. 

“Like what?” 

“Well you’re a little…old fashioned Harry. Which I love and appreciate but - it’s just different than what I’m used to.” You giggle, and he smiles, nodding his head in agreement, “Can I ask you a question though, well a few,maybe?” 

He leans forward, and you don’t pull away, instead you lean closer too, crossing your legs under you. “Of course, anything. Ask me as many questions as you want. I’m an open book!” Harry urges, earnestly. 

“How old are you?” 

“I’m ninety-three technically. Been like this for only sixty-three years though.” 

“Oh.” you say tilting your head to the side, “That's young, right?  For a vampire?” you clarify and Harry chuckles. “I mean, I know my references are just books and movies but - usually their all so-” 

“Old?” Harry laughs, “You worried about dating an old man?” 

“Wha- No! Not at all I just -” 

“It’s okay, Love.” he laughs, “Yes, I’m pretty young still. I’m what we call a Young Blood. Having been…this way for less than 100 years. There were laws made a while back, way before I was ‘born’, about creating more vampires, but laws aren’t always followed, so here I am.” 

There is something in the way he spoke, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Sadness, or maybe anger? Regardless you chose not to pry, instead making a mental note to ask about Vampire Law at a later date. 

“So are you on your own, or are there more of…you?” 

“Like I said, I’m a Young Blood so other vampires tend to be weary of me and younger vampires like me. They think we are reckless…gonna tell the world about our existence.” He smirks, “But I’m not alone, entirely. I’ve got a small group of friends. Most of them are much older than I am, they’re just kind of spread out all over. My friend Oliver lives a few hours away. I see him every now and then.”  

“Your secret is safe with me.” 

“I know. I trust you.” he smiles, “You know, I’ve been on my own for a while and I was going to head back home to England since it’s been long enough. But then I met you, and decided to stay stateside a bit longer.”

 You smile, remembering the memory of the first day you had met Harry. It was a rainy, chilly day. You were having the worst day. Having forgotten your umbrella, wanting to get out of the house for just a moment to write, when Harry ever the gentleman opened the door for you to your favorite cafe. A brief interaction, that turned into the two of you chatting, and ended with an invitation to dinner later in the week. It was a bold move for Harry, talking to anyone let alone someone he thought was as beautiful as you. But there was something about you that made him have to get to know you. And now, months later, here you are. And you both couldn’t be happier. 

“I’m glad you decided to stay.” 

“Me too. Is this too weird now?” he says rubbing the back of his neck, eyes cast down. That makes you chuckle, and it’s music to Harry’s ears. 

“My boyfriend just told me he's a vampire after I admitted to my embarrassing Twilight phase, it’s a little weird, Harry.” You chuckle.

“I saw an opportunity and took it.” he smiles, “It’s just been driving me crazy, not having you know. Not being able to be close to you.” he stops, bringing your hand to his lips, “Physically I mean. I know your a cuddler and it has killed me not being able to hold you, but I was scared you’d notice,”

“The lack of heartbeat.”

 “Yeah.” He sighs, “I figured I could explain away the body temperature, but that’s kind of hard to explain.”

 “Is that also why you’ve not kissed me yet?” You ask with a smirk. 

“We kiss.” Harry defends, and you chuckle. 

“You know what I mean. All I get are little pecks! And I love them, I do. I’ll take any affection your comfortable giving me, but” 

“You want more.”  He finishes.

 “Yeah.” You say cheeks are warming up. “I like when you kiss me, and if you're comfortable with it, I’d really enjoy a make out session every now and then.” Saying it out loud made you feel a little silly, and yes maybe a little childish. “So how much of it is your old fashioned ways, and how much is it, the other thing.” 

If Harry were being honest, he’d been keeping you at arms length, which is part of the reason why he’s decided to let you in on who he really was. And now that you knew, nothing was really stopping him from being more physical with you. Nothing besides his new fear of scaring you off. 

“Less about me being old fashioned.” He confesses, “I want to be closer to you too. And I’d love to make out with you,” he smirks, before looking down again, “but sometimes when vampires get…close to someone in that way, our um…fangs pop. And I just-” 

“Can I see?” 

“What?”

 “Your fangs. Can I see them?” You ask, and Harry’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, because you're completely serious. “I’m not running, Harry. I wanna learn everything I can about you. I'm curious.” You smile. 

“Okay.” Harry sighs. He opens his mouth, lifting his lip just a little, and baring his teeth. You watch as a set of prominent and pointy fangs protrude from his gums. You try to keep your reaction minimal to not embarrass him. You do a decent job, but Harry can hear your heartbeat pick up. Without much thought you reach your hand up, caressing his cold cheek. You rub your thumb over the apples of his cheeks a second, turning your head to the side examining his face, and fangs. Before you have time to stop yourself, you reach up slowly with your other hand touching his left fang, feeling just how sharp it is. 

“Wow.” You whisper, pulling your hands in your lap. Harry retracts his fangs, and closes his mouth, feeling the worst is over.  

“Yeah.” 

“Does it hurt? When you pop them?” 

“Not at all. They hurt when they first came through. And it was hard to keep them from showing for a while but you get used to them.” 

“Can I ask you a question that may be…sensitive?” 

“Of course.” 

“Are you um…a vegetarian .” 

This is it, Harry thinks. This is when you get too scared, and this is when you run. “No.” He confesses slowly, “No, I’m not. But I don’t hurt people. I live on blood bags I get from the hospital. I used to drink from humans. Just enough to get full, and then send them on their way, but I haven’t since I met you.” 

“Why?” 

Harry took a moment, trying to think of the best way to explain it. “Feeding from someone is quite intimate. It’s not quite like sex for me but…I just didn’t feel right doing it, when I have a girlfriend. So I just use the bags now.”  

“You can feed from me. I mean, if you want.” You say nervously, and Harry smiles. 

“I appreciate that Love. But baby steps, yeah?” He smiles. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” 

Harry reaches for your hand pulling you into his lap, “Come here.” You settle placing your hand on his shoulders, resting your forehead on his, “I’m so happy with you. Haven’t been this happy in decades. Thank you.” 

You kiss him softly, “For what?” 

“Not running away. Or calling me crazy. For accepting me, but mainly for making me happy.” 

“You make me happy too.” 

“Good.” Harry smiles, placing a quick peck to your cheek. 

“I have a lot more questions that I intend on asking you, but I already have a lot to process. So can we make out now?” You ask, and Harry squeezes you closer to him, throwing his head back with a laugh. 

“Well since you’ve asked so nicely.” He smiles, pressing your lips to his in a much awaited deep warm kiss. 

a/n: i know there are other things that i have queued that i should be posting but....i'm a sucker for a vampire story! and this idea popped in my head and i just had to. you can def expect more from this universe/more vampire!harry in general haha

✨masterlist✨ ∣ ✨yap & request box✨

[longing-for-rain]

For @zutaraweek Day 1: Home

I really love the idea of home being something you find in one another, and the beauty in the mundane, so I thought I’d make some art to go along with a fic I wrote, Learning To Love Again.

I shared this very personal piece a long time ago, and I still get the most heartwarming comments on it. I just wanted to thank everyone for that too, it really helped me gain confidence in sharing my stories and it makes me so happy that other people can find comfort in this as well ❤️❤️

[idiotboisinlove]

“You’re everything. There’s not a thing you’re not.” 

inspired by my recent OBSESSION!!! How Do We Turn On The Light? by @moonyinpisces. i seriously cant get enough of this fic. i keep rereading it.

[jesuschristt-thatsaprettyface]

he just like me for real

[totheblood]

more modern!ellie headcanons

a/n: just a little something... as always AI AUDIOS AT THE END... replies and reblogs are appreciated

ellie is a complete night owl

like you actually are concerned about when she sleeps

if you have an early morning class together she is always running late

or just doesn't show up so you would have to call her and wake her up

"hey baby, what's up i just woke up"

"ellie, class is about to start."

"oh shit, we have class today?"

she would sit next to you in any class you shared and scribble little doodles over to you

or communicate with you through notes

ellie hates going out in public but she loves going with you to do your errands

you're going grocery shopping? ellie is there

you need to find new shoes? she is there

barnes and noble? she would probably be there before you

she likes to do this thing where she will pick out a book for you and you will pick out a book for her and you will sit in the back and spend your day reading together

sometimes she hates the books you pick out for her

"ugh, another colleen hoover book? i gave you a cool book and you give me colleen fucking hoover?"

"little women is cool?"

"i can't believe you just said that."

if you two are out in public together she likes to pretend that the two of you are a married couple

like for example if you're at the cash register and she brings an item up to you and asks if she could get it

"no ellie, put that back."

she would turn to the cashier and say something like "what the wife says, goes... am i right?"

even when she's not with you and she's out drinking at the bar with dina and jesse she would randomly be like, "the wife's not gonna like this one" and take another shot

or when she buys you lingere that is obviously not for her she would be like, "you know what they say, 'happy wife, happy life'"

ellie is really not a social person either

unless she is a few drinks deep which leads us to... drunk!ellie

drunk ellie is soooooo clingy and sentimental

not that she isn't regularly, she's just way more affectionate when drunk

her usual comments would be like, "you're so lucky i love you so much..." or "you're so cute when you're not patronizing me..."

but her drunk? "i think you're the best thing to have happened to me, please never leave me."

"being in love with you is all that matters to me right now... take your clothes off."

she's always touching you in some way if she's drunk

if she's drunk at dinner and she's next to you, her hand in on your thigh or her head is resting on your shoulder

if she's drunk at a party, her hands are on your waist at all times whether she's dancing with you or talking to others

she just wants to be around you

she also can't sleep without you if she's drunk

you would be trying to put her to bed and she would just grab your wrist and mutter a, "please stay"

ellie always orders something you like so you can pick off of her plate

"you want some, baby? i knew you were going to ask for some anyways."

she's always thinking of you

when she sees little trinkets she's like "aw my girlfriend would love this."

or when she sees someone trip in public she's like "i wish my girlfriend was here, i know she'd die laughing."

ellie reads you books so you can sleep

if she knows you had a particularly rough day she will be like, "you okay, babe? want me to read you something?"

and then your climbing in her bed and resting your head in the crook of her neck as she reads to you

she will send you a picture of any animal she sees on the street

loves getting you things because she loves your reaction to gifts

... the two of you study by getting to take an article of clothing off each time you get something right

let's just say you pass most of your tests

ai audios:

extras:

what the wife says, goes

happy wife happy life

the wife's not gonna like this one

you want some baby?