#friendsgiving was such a good idea | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluesidez · 3 months ago

Text

Gym Rat Miguel Part 12

content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food

word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.

It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.

He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.

He’s exhausted all of his options.

The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.

Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.

The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.

Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.

GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.

His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.

Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.

His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.

Just a few more sprints to go.

GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.

“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.

“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.

Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”

Miguel snorted.

GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.

This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.

If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.

Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.

Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?

Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”

Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”

The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.

They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.

It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.

GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.

“So,” she started.

“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“

“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Miguel.”

“Xina.”

“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”

Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.

“I miss her.”

“Miss who? Your mom?”

“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”

It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.

Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”

Miguel nods.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”

“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”

“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”

“No, I don’t think that.”

Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.

“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”

“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.

“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”

Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.

“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”

Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”

“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”

GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.

He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.

“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”

GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.

Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.

“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”

“You just want a reason to not do your work.”

Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”

She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.

“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.

The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.

Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.

“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.

Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I doubt it.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.

He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.

He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.

That’s when he sees you.

He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.

The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.

He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.

A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.

“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.

“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.

“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.

“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.

“Who is this?”

GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.

He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.

“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”

“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“

“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”

“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.

A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.

You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”

“Amor…”

Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”

“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”

“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”

“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”

Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”

“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”

“I said I was sorry about that!”

GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.

“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.

When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.

“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Neither did she!”

Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”

Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.

GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.

They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.

“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.

“Like I do anything else, with peace.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”

“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”

“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”

Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.

GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.

He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.

You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.

You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.

“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.

Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”

GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.

He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.

Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.

Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.

“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.

You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”

You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”

Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.

The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.

It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.

The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.

Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”

“Boring.”

“Beautiful.”

He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.

“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”

The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.

“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.

She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”

“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”

Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”

“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.

“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.

“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”

“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”

You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.

Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.

“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”

GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.

“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.

“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”

“Need me to drive you back?”

“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”

Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.

He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.

“Will I see you again soon?” Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”

“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”

“Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.

“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”

Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.

“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.

Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.

Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”

“You’re really annoying me today.”

Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.

“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”

“No.”

“Why not? It could be fun!”

“I’m all partied out until next year.”

“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”

“That’s robo rockstars to you.”

Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.

“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”

Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.

Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.

“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”

“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”

Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”

“This isn’t helping me.”

GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”

“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”

“Just answer the question, mijo.”

Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.

“Yeah.”

Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”

“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)

“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)

“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)

Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”

“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.

Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.

Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.

“Baby”

“Let’s do something together on your bday”

Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.

“YES”

“YEESSSS”

“Best birthday ever already”

“Someone’s excited”

“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”

“What are we doing”

“Tell me please”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Mmm”

“No”

“It’s a secret 🙂‍↔️”

“I can wait”

“That you are”

“Sometimes”

“😗”

“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”

“Oh”

“Should we raincheck then?”

“NOOOOOO!”

“I can do both”

“I’ll literally split myself in two”

“You don’t have to choose”

“My gift is small”

“I want you to have fun on your special day”

“Can you come to the party?”

“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”

“If anything it’ll be much later”

“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”

“Good night bebé”

“Night!”

"Love you"

“Love you more"

divider by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.

The taglist has reached the max number! If you want updates, check my blog, turn on post notifs, or subscribe to it on AO3!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

@questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @calig0sto @tatatida @haveclayeveryday

@corpsenightmarebride @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstarlight82

@ladysimp @sonicbutbutter @relatednative @slowlyshycomputer @nuetralcolorsenthusiast

@maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @Madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog

@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry

261 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

AITA for telling an old friend of mine not to come to Friendsgiving?

I (F, 26) have been hosting a Friendsgiving at my place for six years running. It’s a pretty big event, and usually ~25 people show up, but there’s a core group of five high school friends of mine that always come. We also prepare for the event together (baking pies, brining turkeys, singing Billy Joel, etc etc) Two of these friends were dating until a month ago (that’s an eight-year relationship). One of my friends (F, 25, we’ll call her R) cheated on my other friend (F, 26, we’ll call her L), for an extended period of time (5 months with several different people, including a close mutual friend of theirs who she is now dating). L found out and ended the relationship. I am still talking to both of them.

Now here’s where it gets complicated. L will not come if R comes, and R will not come if L comes. I love them both but they’re stubborn like that. R also wants to bring her new partner (NB, 28, we’ll call them X). However, L has been completely heartbroken for the past month. She quit her job, stopped eating, the whole enchilada. She’s been a mess, to put it lightly. As a friend group (along with her mom), I think we’ve managed to do a pretty decent job of taking care of her.

I should also add that X has dated and cheated upon another friend of mine (M, 26) who will be there. X has also fought with my partner and several of her friends. I’m not a huge fan of X, but whatever. Moving on.

A week ago, I received a text from R asking what dish I’d like her to bring for Friendsgiving. After much deliberation and several discussions with my partner (the event is hosted at our house), I told R that it wasn’t a good idea for them to join us for Friendsgiving. I was sad to do so, but I don’t want to but L in that position after a really rough breakup. I also think that the breakup is entirely R’s fault, so the burden of providing space should be on them. I also don’t want to inflict X upon my partner and guests, and I told R almost exactly that.

Since then, Ive received quite a few messages from friends and guests telling me that disinviting R was a rude thing to do. I’ve also gotten suggestions to simply lie to both L and R, but I really don’t want to do that. I’d love to have R at my Friendsgiving, but I don’t think that it’s wise to do so at this time. They’re welcome to come next year after things have cooled down a bit.

So after all that:

Am I the Asshole for telling R not to come to Thanksgiving, even though it’s tradition?

sorry for all the information and thank you for your feedback!

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

327 notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year ago

Text

The Other Half Part Twenty Two

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: Angst was requested, so angst ye shall receive. Welcome to the Thanksgiving episode.

Warnings: Smidge of fluff with a heaping of angst; reader has a mother and father, neither are described physically

Summary: It had gotten off to a good start.

Your parents had been so buoyant and excited as they’d gotten off of the jet, and as Bruce had driven you all to the manor. The manor had incited a wave of ooing and aahing as Bruce had given them a tour. You’d departed for the kitchen, trying to help Alfred, but he’d merely steered you onto a stool and made you a strong cup of tea to steady your nerves.

You're a little surprised when Bruce’s eyes glaze over at the idea. You’ve never seen him actively check out from a conversation like this before. You raise your hand, gently waving it in front of his face.

“Honey?” You press. “Did you hear me?”

Bruce clears his throat, averting his gaze to the kitchen counter. You frown as he takes up his glass of wine, drawing deeply from it.

“I haven't thought about it,” He finally admits.

“Well, what do you usually do for Thanksgiving?”

He shrugs. “Not much. Alfred makes dinner.”

“So it’s like any other day?” You tease, trying to lighten the mood. He smiles tightly, taking up the bottle of wine and topping off your glasses.

“I guess,” He offers. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to figure out where you can possibly take the conversation next.

“Well,” You lean into it a little, drawing your wine glass closer to yourself. “My parents have invited us to Metropolis for Thanksgiving, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

“You’re definitely going?”

“I mean, you said you don’t have any other plans, and I don’t. Michelle is doing a Friendsgiving that weekend, but I don’t have anything else going on, day-of. And…” You press your lips together, trying to gather your thoughts, fighting off the swell of emotion. You focus on your wine, incredibly wary of how you go on: “I haven’t seen my parents since you brought them here. Mom’s been harping on me to visit.” Among other things—but you don't want to get into all that now.

“Why haven’t you?”

“Work, and the press, and just,” You shake your head. “There’s been a lot going on. I haven’t accrued any time off at work, but we get Thanksgiving and the Friday off, so I figured I’d leave Wednesday night, and get back on Saturday in time for Friendsgiving.”

“How are you getting there?”

“I’ll rent a car.”

Bruce gives you a stern sidelong glance.

“You can borrow one of mine if you insist on driving.”

“The tumbler?”

“You’d be disappointed in the gas mileage.”

“Bummer.”

Bruce thinks for a moment before he leans against the counter.

“Is anyone else going to be at Thanksgiving?”

“Just the three of us—four, if you decide to come.”

“Alright. Tell you what: why don’t you invite your parents here. We’ll have Thanksgiving at the manor. They can stay the night.”

Your brows raise in surprise.

“You seriously want to do that?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“...Are you concussed?”

Bruce rolls his eyes, resting his arms atop the counter and taking hold of your hands in his.

“Invite them, see what they say. Alright?”

“Alright,” You nod. “We’ll have to tell Alfred.”

“Let’s just see what they say first.”

Your eyes narrow slightly. He’s got to be bluffing. Thanksgiving is next week—there isn’t much time to get everything confirmed. Travel plans need to be made, shopping lists need to be created, rooms at the manor probably need to be aired out.

“Alright,” You shrug. “Let’s ask.” You draw your phone out of your pocket, swiping open to your contacts.

“You're going to call right now?”

“Sooner’s better than later, right?” You tap your mother’s contact, then put the phone on speaker, setting it on the counter. Your eyes flit toward Bruce, and you find him eyeing your phone like a ticking time bomb.

“Sweetie!” Your mother screeches, and you can’t help but smile.

“Hey, mom.”

“How are you? I’ve been trying to reach you all week!”

That’s on purpose. There are some things that your mother’s been bringing up lately that you just don’t want to talk about…Things that you haven’t even told Bruce.

“I know, it’s been a lot of phone tag, I’m sorry about that. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving—”

“Oh, me, too! What time does your plane land?”

“Well…” You look at Bruce again, waiting for him to call it off—last chance to back down. But he nods and waves you on, so you go on, “We know it’s last minute, but Bruce and I were hoping that you could join us here this year, at the manor.”

“The manor?” Your mother’s shock and glee are delightfully clear, even through the tinny audio.

“Mhm!”

“Oh, I don't know, it’s awfully late to get a flight—”

“I’ll send the jet.”

Bruce’s assertion shocks you both into silence for a moment. Your brows raise, mouth falling open in surprise.

‘Are you kidding?’ You mouth over your mother’s fumbling insistence that it’s too much of an expense.

“Not at all,” Bruce shakes his head. “We really would love to host you. It’s been too long since you’ve seen Gotham.”

“Been too long since I’ve seen my daughter.”

“Mom,” You groan, wincing.

“Let me talk it over with your father—We’ll let you know in the morning. Thank you for the offer, Bruce.”

“Of course.”

“Talk to you later, mom,” You add.

“Bye! Love you!”

“Love you, too!” You tap the button to end the call before you look at Bruce again. “The jet?”

“It’s just sitting there,” Bruce shrugs, taking up his wine again. “And this way they won’t have to go through security. I hear holiday lines are a real killer.”

“You are…” You shake your head a little, chuckling, “Such a fucking enigma.”

“I don’t think I am.”

“No?”

“No.” Bruce straightens, rounding the counter. “I don't do anything by halves, I don’t back down from a challenge…” He comes to a stop beside you, gaze searching your face, “And I love you very much.”

You reach out, gently hooking your fingers in the collar of his shirt and tugging him closer for a kiss.

“Right back atchya, Mr. Wayne.”

It had gotten off to a good start.

“If I may say so,” Alfred had offered, “You hardly seemed as tightly wound the last time Master Wayne brought your parents into town.”

“Well, I was blindsided last time,” You’d admitted, “And I haven’t…” You’d trailed off, shaking your head a little as Alfred had cast a curious eye toward you.

“Haven’t what?”

“...Nothing. Are you sure there isn't anything that I can do to help?”

If Alfred hadn’t bought your brushing him off, he hadn’t chased it down—and as much as you’d entreated him to eat with all of you, he wouldn’t hear of it.

It had been a good start.

Dinner is delicious, Alfred makes sure the wine continues to flow, and you think, you think that your mom isn’t going to bring it up, but—

“Have you put in for your transfer?”

Your blood runs cold, and your face goes hot. The sudden change of subject makes your stomach heave in such a way that you're sure you're about to lose your dinner. You keep your focus on your nearly empty plate as everyone’s attention turns to you. You swallow thickly. Your transfer.

“You said that you would,” Your mother adds.

“I told you I would think about it,” You argue. “I never said it was set in stone.”

“Transfer?” Bruce prods. Damnit.

“It was just something that my mom thought—”

“That I know would be better for you!” Your mother argues. She casts a glance between you and Bruce, sighing. “Now I know that you’re both very fond of Gotham, but it just isn’t safe, and it isn’t getting any better. Besides the crime rate, your…” She trails off, seeming to try and tread carefully for once.

“I think what your mother is trying to say,” Your father cuts in, “Is that as much as you can shrug it off, the fact of the matter is, your…Relationship,” He glances between you and Bruce warily, “Has put you in danger.”

“Dad—”

“If it wasn’t for Batman, you could have died—Or Bruce could’ve lost so much money—” Your mother cuts in.

“I never cared about the money,” Bruce’s insistence is so heartbreakingly soft, and nearly drowned out as your mother goes on:

“You can transfer to a branch of the Wayne Foundation in Metropolis. And who even knows how long Batman will be around to stop these kinds of things.”

“It was a one-off,” You insist firmly. “I’m fine, I’m safe.”

“But it could happen again,” Your father points out. “It could happen to either of you.”

You sigh softly, glancing toward Bruce. He’s not looking at you. His ears are red; his jaw is clenched. You reach for his hand beneath the table, but he pulls it away, reaching for his glass instead.

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” You say firmly, looking between your parents. “Okay? Can we just—talk about something fun and uncontroversial, like politics or euthanasia?”

It had been such a good start.

But as your parents head up to their guest room and Bruce disappears to the study—as you hear the discordant clanging of the piano—you crumble. You bury your face in your hands, trying to stifle your sobs. Hot tears and hot breath press into your palms as your chest and shoulders wrack with sobs. You feel two hands rest on your shoulders, and you turn gratefully into Alfred, leaning into him heavily as he folds you into his arms. He smooths his hand over your back, shushing you softly as he steers you toward the kitchen.

You sit numbly on the stool again, breath hiccuping as you scrub at your tear-stung eyes. Alfred comes back over to you with a small glass in hands.

“What’s that?” You mumble.

“Sherry. Steady your nerves.”

You take hold of it and toss it all back—and regret it immediately. You cough roughly, wincing at the dry burn as it blazes down your throat. Alfred takes the glass back.

“...It wasn’t a shot.”

“I realize that now,” You grit out, clearing your throat. Alfred turns, refilling the glass and holding it out again.

“Slower this time.”

You take a small sip, brow furrowing at the taste. It’s almost pleasant.

Almost.

You sniffle, looking down into the glass and swirling it slightly.

“...I’m guessing you heard everything?”

“I did.”

“I didn’t think she’d bring it up,” You admit, "I kinda hoped she wouldn’t…But I didn’t have a moment with her without Bruce, and when she didn’t mention it on the way back from the airport, I thought…I shouldn’t have assumed, anyway. Now he’s pissed at me.”

“...If I may,” Alfred says gently, “I believe he’s upset because he’s afraid that your mother may be right.”

“She isn’t.”

“Even you must admit that being in the public eye has changed things for you.”

“I was held at gunpoint at work before Bruce and I were known to be together.”

“Crime is still an epidemic in this city.”

“Nowhere in the world is crimeless. I could just as soon be held up in Metropolis.”

“...Perhaps,” Alfred nods. You sigh softly, taking in another mouthful of sherry and wincing.

“I just wish he hadn’t left before we talked about it,” You shake your head. “I hate it when he does that.”

“Stay here,” Alfred pats your cheek gently. “Relax.”

“Can I help with the washing up?—Please,” You tip your head to the side pleadingly as Alfred opens his mouth to argue. “You’ve been working so hard all day, and everything was so delicious. It’ll go faster with two. Please let me help.”

Alfred finally nods.

“I’ll wash, you dry.”

“Sure.” You stand, setting the sherry glass by the sink. You take up the dishtowel, still sniffling a little as you and Alfred stand side by side at the sink.

“...Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks. For everything.”

He smiles, lightly nudging your shoulder with his. It’s a gentle, familiar touch, one that makes you smile through your sniffles.

“Any time, dear.”

Next Part

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne x You #Bruce Wayne/Reader #Bruce Wayne/You #Bruce Wayne fic #Bruce Wayne imagine #The Other Half

341 notes · View notes

magicxc · 8 months ago

Text

Holidays

Pairings: Survey Corps - their fave holidays

Word Count: 871

Warnings: none

A/N: I considered Japanese holidays for this bit but then laziness got the best of me. Like most pieces I create with these characters a lot of how I envision them will relate to western/modern culture in some way or another. Though they probably won't celebrate half of the holidays I'm about to list, I want to reiterate that this is my idea of the traits these characters possess and also they are not real.

Headcannons Masterlist

Eren - Christmas

Eren is big on family, especially the family he’s made with Armin and Mikasa. It’s clear that he stands ten toes down behind them and when he gets his own family, it’ll be much the same. I actually think having kids will bring out the fluff in Eren and he’ll be that obnoxious holiday parent that's doing the most with decorations and presents. But it's honestly the atmosphere that gets him going. The holiday cheer, the kindness, the emphasis on giving - he loves it all.

Levi - New Years

The new year signals a new beginning but also the close to another chapter. Each time Levi makes it to a new year he’s thankful but mostly shocked. From life underground to humanity's biggest threat, he never knows when disaster might strike. But, when the clock strikes 12 it's a moment of relief, one where he can sit back and relish in the thought that he’s made it to another trip around the sun.

Erwin - Fathers Day

Lmaoo I'm not tryna make Erwin sound egotistical at all, but I was also running out of popular holidays. The day the Scouts headed to their mission to plug wall Maria was the first time we saw them get a standing ovation and it was also the first time we saw Erwin express such vocal excitement. Even though he can come off a bit aloof, I thought it was fun to see him in that way. That being said I think he’d enjoy being celebrated and can even play up the wowwwws at the macaroni necklaces and handprint construction papers lol. He would love and take care of his family obvi but it’d also make him feel good to feel that admiration in return.

Connie - Thanksgiving

You feed this man and he’ll love you forever. It’s his favorite holiday because it has back to back benefits. There's tons of food, a four day weekend off from work, and the opportunity to spend time with his family. He’s the type to pitch in money but over the years Connie has been more inclined to learn how to cook and has even started bringing in a dish. He’s most excited to try a Friendsgiving as he considers them family as well.

Jean - Valentines Day

I firmly believe that Jean is a romantic. I don't think he’d be the most creative at gift giving lol but it’s certainly the thought that counts. On valentines day he goes all out - teddy bears, flowers, chocolates, etc. ya know, the usual. Although his gifts are very on the nose and sometimes he needs to be spoon fed the information, what he lacks in creativity, he'll gain in experience; learning to step his game up as the years go by. Again, sweet guy.

Onyankopon - Easter

He more so likes the spring break aspect of it. With the flowers blooming and the sun making regular appearances, it was usually the first sign to what summer would be like. Ony enjoys traveling, meeting new people, and experiencing different cultures. So although spring break was meant to party, which he did, Ony always made the time to immerse himself in the customs of whichever country he visited. Now as an adult, he still indulged in his version of spring break as he always enjoyed the mini relaxation that it brought about; thinking of it as his summer outside of summer.

Reiner - Independence Day

Reiner is over the whole patriotic thing, however he can't help but enjoy the events that take place because of it. There’s literally a bbq happening on every corner so he’s for sure house hopping for a plate. There's all sorts of sales and Gabi is making him put that wallet to USE hunnie. And while he doesn’t mind, he more so enjoys their time spent together. There's also the beautiful fireworks that light up the evening sky. And at the end of the day he gets to spend his remaining time with family, gathered around over good food and even better vibes.

Armin - Mothers Day

Armin is def the type to dote on his wife. Hard day at work? He’s rubbing the stress out of your shoulders. Hungry? He’s cooking and prepping lunch for the week. Overwhelmed at work? He’s booking you a spa day. Armin literally adores his woman and enjoys any chance he has to celebrate her and Mothers Day is no exception. Expect him and the kiddies to hand make you some arts and crafts, cook you breakfast, and plan the holiday around your desired interests; with him making sure, at the end of the day, to show you why you celebrate the holiday in the first place.

Floch - Halloween

He’s big on the spooky vibe but not to a concerning extent. Like many others he just enjoys the activities surrounding it. This is actually where Floch flourishes in creativity and fun. He’s making spooky themed treats, decorating to upstage the next door neighbor, and enjoying all the movie classics. Let's not even get started on the lengths he’ll go through to make the most life-like costumes and the parties where he shows it all off?? Top mf notch! Bonus points for getting some action at said parties.

57 notes · View notes

dreamersbcll · 1 year ago

Text

Holidaze

let love grow

(the core four friendsgiving we all deserve)

——————————————————————————

“Do you even know how to cook a turkey?”

Sam paused her search for the basting pan -she could’ve sworn she had one- to sigh and roll her eyes. Tara had been second-guessing her decisions since they decided to throw this “Friendsgiving feast” that the twins thought of.

New York was a year ago. They were far away, in a new city, with all their friends nearby. It seemed like a good idea to host a family get-together.

Up until Tara’s sudden culinary degree kicked in.

Her sister frowned. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you know how to cook.”

Snagging the basting dish, Sam pulled back, slamming the counter door shut. “Tara, go get the vegetables out.”

Tara saluted Sam, heading to the fridge. “Sure thing, Chef Ramsey.”

Meanwhile, Sam got lost in her prep haze. She had to clean the turkey, season it, and cut the vegetables. Tara would need to mash the potatoes and make the biscuits from a can. It all had to be done within the next six hours.

Humming, Sam set up the cutting board and grabbed her favorite knife. She almost didn’t notice that Tara had sidled up next to her.

She turned to face Tara, knife in one hand, a head of celery in the other. “What’s up, baby?”

Her little sister shrugged, her eyes fixated on the cutting board. “Can you show me?” she asked in the quietest, most timid voice.

Sam couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. She would do anything for that sweet little girl she knew and loved so well.

Nodding, Sam lined up the vegetables, making room for Tara to stand next to her. “Okay, first, we line 'em all up like this…”

—

Before the two knew it, it was already time for the rest of the group to come. First, Gale arrived, already buzzed, holding bags of chips.

“You really wanted me to cook?” she snarkily said, throwing the chips at a disgruntled Tara.

Sidney came later on, holding a couple of homemade pies. Tara’s eyes lit up with joy at the sight. She was always smitten with a good apple pie. Sam should’ve made one.

Eventually, the twins arrived thirty minutes late, both kids gripping heaping food containers and several bottles of wine. Sam grinned wide at the sight, reaching out to grasp the precarious bottle that dangled in Chad’s hand…

…Only for it to slip and spill all over Sam’s shirt.

The room went silent, the laughter dying out. Everybody froze at the sight of the wine-stained shirt, Sam’s wine-stained shirt.

Without thinking, Sam turned and bolted for the bathroom, Tara following suit.

——-

“Stupid. So fucking stupid,” Sam hissed, dabbing at the wine splotches on her shirt.

It took everything in her not to taste the wine-stained fabric.

Fuck. Her mouth was watering, and her head was cloudy. Did wine always smell that good? Was that Chardonnay? She loved Chardonnay. Maybe just a taste. One lick. She’s done worse for a hit.

But she knows. Oh god, does she know what one dab, line, and drink could do. Down the rabbit hole into the darkness, she barely crawled out alive the last time.

That had just survived New York. She couldn’t do this to the group— especially not her little girl. It would tear them apart. Sam couldn’t survive being the reason that breaks her family.

All over a stupid bottle of spilled wine, all over her shirt.

Once an addict, always an addict.

“It’s just alcohol. Just fruit juice. For adults. It’s not a big deal. Fucking snap out of it, Sam,” she cussed.

But it wouldn’t go away.

“Stop it. Stop fucking thinking of that. Grow up. Grow fucking up!”

“Sam?”

Shit. Tara.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m almost done here—just a spill. Be out in a minute,” Sam called, trying to suppress the anxiety rising within her.

“Let me in.”

That wasn’t a question. It was a command. Without thinking, Sam unlocked the door and let her sister in.

Tara walked in slowly, surveying the bathroom. One look at Sam, and she could tell that Tara knew. Sam’s frantic hair, her wild eyes, her shaking hands— all pointed to an alcoholic freaking out over a spilled drink.

Without saying anything, Tara held out a hand, asking for the wine-soaked rag in Sam’s hand. Sam handed it to her without thinking, afraid of the stoic look on Tara’s face.

As Tara took it, pursing her lips, Sam needed to back down. She was too much. Too raw. She had to reel it in. “It’s fine, it’s just-”

“Let me help you,” Tara said, cutting Sam off before she could continue babbling.

Sam snapped her mouth shut. “Okay.”

Tara hummed, turning on the tap to wet the rag. The two watched the faucet run, the noise of the water filling the buzzing in Sam’s head.

Her little sister started to wash the shirt, her lips in a tight line. “I understand, you know. I told them to keep it away from you. Don’t worry. I’ve got you, too,” Tara whispered.

Bowing her head, Sam conceded. Of course, her little sister knew. She always knew. How could Sam ever forget?

“Thank you, my love.”

Tara paused from wiping off Sam’s shirt, and before Sam could react, she darted forward, kissing Sam’s cheek. Before Sam could say anything, Tara was out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Sam turned back to the mirror, noticing the fresh shirt and bra left on the countertop, neatly folded. Next to it was a garbage bag, the message clear.

Trash the shirt. We can replace it. We can’t replace you.

Who was Sam to argue with her little sister?

——

Once Sam finally exited the bathroom, she found everybody sitting at the dinner table, anxiously awaiting her arrival. Steaming food was strewn across the tabletop, napkins folded neatly on each plate. Soft murmurs of conversation stopped once Sam got to the table, the only sound being the flickering of candles Tara had lit.

Upon seeing Sam’s new outfit, Chad winced, his mouth open comically wide. Apparent panic and remorse were reflected in his eyes, and everyone else around the table looked somber.

He stood up, his hands up in surrender. “Shit, Sam, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking-”

Sam waved him off, calming him down with a small smile. “It’s okay. Let’s just sit down and eat, yeah?”

Chad smiled gratefully, mouthing thank you. Sam just nodded and sat at the head of the table, surveying the people around her. Sidney was at her left, Mindy at her right. Across from her was Tara, looking at Sam with such soft and gentle concern that it made her heart ache.

I love you, she mouthed.

Tara smiled at her, eyes shining. I love you, too.

With her heart now full and her stomach empty, Sam clapped her hands, suddenly excited to eat. “Well, what do healthy families do at dinner?”

“Say grace?” Mindy suggested, clasping her hands together.

Chad nodded enthusiastically while Gale shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt,” the woman remarked, taking another swig of her drink.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, alright. Who wants to do it?”

The group all looked at one another, raising eyebrows and silently asking someone to step up.

“I will,” Tara said, looking at Sam pointedly.

That’s her girl. That’s her Tara.

“Okay, baby. Go ahead,” she softly said, smiling at her girl.

Tara smiled at the name, her dimples popping. Sidney held out a hand for Tara to take, the rest of the group reaching out and clasping hands together. Sam watched her little sister bow her head, everyone else following suit. Only when she saw her little sister close her eyes did Sam also bow her head.

“Well, after all we’ve been through, I’m not sure if there’s a God,” Tara began, pausing for the giggles and murmurs to die down.

“But I do believe in family. And the people around me are the best family I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for them. I love them all, and I would do nothing,”

“That being said, I want to say how thankful I am for my big sister. Sam is the strongest person I’ve ever known, and I believe in her like one would in God. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.”

“Uh, amen?” Chad said.

The group broke apart, giggling and sniffling. Chad reached over to dig into the roast while Mindy started handing out napkins, Sidney and Gale topping off their drinks.

While the table was alive with conversation and movement, all Sam could do was take in the girl across from her in all her glory. Her little girl was something to behold. Such a powerful and beautiful girl she was, with potential that would surely leave a mark on the world in a good way- unlike the Loomis blood that tainted Sam’s reputation.

She wonders if Tara knows how much she loves her and how she would move heaven and earth to make her smile. She would kill again for her little sister.

Instead of moving to dish up food, Tara was doing the same thing, just watching her big sister.

Tara and Sam just watched each other, thousands of words left unsaid in the air.

It didn’t matter. They had each other. That was all that needed to be said.

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #the core four!#AU: protect my heart #soft and somber #found family <3 #scream vi

74 notes · View notes

delphi-shield · 1 year ago

Text

christmas tree farm // jill valentine

Jill x Reader Fluff wc: 1,315

honestly, i was going to do a 12 days of christmas thing, but i looked at my schedule and i'm just not gonna have time to get them done before christmas. i'm still going to work on what i have drafted, so there's more holiday fics coming. i'll just post them as theyre ready instead.

pointless fluff, post-re5 jill, reader is implied to be in contact with their family in case you're sensitive about that.

Jill is home for the holiday season - a miracle in itself - and she takes you shopping for a Christmas tree.

Jill has a whole holiday timeline. Halloween decorations can go up starting October 1st. They come down the day after Halloween. They used to come down Halloween night, until you had come along and protested this injustice to Halloween. No Christmas decorations up before November. You can buy them, but they have to remain in storage. All decorations can go up on November 1st - except for the tree. The tree has to wait until *after* Thanksgiving.

She had told you that this was to give each holiday it's due respect. (You had told her that they were holidays, not dogs. They weren’t going to get jealous of each other.) You’re fairly certain that the truth lies closer to something more sentimental. Something softer she wouldn’t say with words.

You can say with near certainty that she doesn’t give a shit if the Christmas lights are up by October - she just wants to be part of your holidays, even if it’s small. She can’t guarantee her presence. You know it, she knows it - and even now, she tells you that she’s around much more than she would have been in the past. She missed Halloween proper - some emergency at work she had to head into the office for, not even her advisory role exempting her from calls at every hour of the night. Thanksgiving, you had a hunch she had requested to work. She had moved mountains to make it to your friendsgiving celebration, but the idea of meeting your family had surely been too much.

So maybe taking you all the way out to this Christmas tree farm is a peace offering. Maybe it’s an apology, or maybe it’s just a chance to take you out on a date. The way her hand settles on your thigh as she drives, her thumb stroking your leg idly, leads you to believe it’s the former.

The air is so cold that it stings your nose when you inhale, leaving an invigorating burn in your chest. It’s beautiful out here, away from the city. You hurry around the front of the car, looking over the valley that you had just driven through. Jill’s footsteps crunch through the snow and stop at your side.

“Pretty, right?” You say, lacing your fingers with Jill’s.

She nods her agreement, and tugs you gently towards the entrance. It is nice up here. She makes a mental note to take you out like this more often. Maybe camping.

The path through the tree farm is a worn, muddy mush of churned snow. Families and couples wind between the rows of pre-cut trees. A handful of them meander deeper into the farm, saws in hand.

Jill lets you lead the way. She realizes quickly that this means much more to you than it does to her, and she allows you free reign over the tree choice. She relegates herself to the designated tree handler, picking out the trees you seem interested in and spinning them around so you can get a good look at them. Not a bad gig, all things considered. It’s cute that you’re so determined. Your brow furrows under the brim of your beanie. She’s not sure she’s ever seen you so focused.

“This one?” Jill asks, picking a tree from the line-up. She holds it out, twirling it so you can see it from every angle.

“I don’t know…” You hum, scanning the branches for any gaps. Your nose scrunches in disapproval. You wave your arms, mimicking the general shape of the tree. “It’s kinda top-heavy, don’t you think?”

Jill doesn’t think that. She hasn’t given the tree any thought at all, other than ‘yep, it’s green’ and ‘these needles are already falling off’. She pivots back to the line up of cut trees, scanning for a better replacement.

"What about this one?" She grabs another tree from the line up, lifting it effortlessly. She balances each tree in a hand so you can compare them.

But she seems to have missed one glaringly obvious problem.

"Babe," you sigh, "that's a blue spruce."

Silence. She just stares at you, as if that's supposed to mean something to her. She shrugs, the branches of the trees shaking.

"So?"

"So, the other one is a douglas fir." You point to the first tree - the top heavy one.

"And?"

You throw your mittened hands up. It's difficult for Jill to take you seriously when you're all layers of soft, plush clothing, her old BDU wrapped on top. Your hands have been reduced to rounded, knit lumps and the sliver of your face that peeks out at her between your hat and scarf is flushed with cold.

“I told you in the car. No blue spruce. I always get a blue spruce. I want to try something different this year.”

Okay. Maybe that’s on her. She way here had been full of sharp turns and winding roads. She had been a little preoccupied with directions to worry about what sort of tree you wanted specifically. She hadn’t thought it would make a difference.

“What else is a no-go?”

“No white pines,” you say, pointing to the pines that are leaned up against the side of a shed. “They have flimsy branches. They can barely hold ornaments.”

Jill’s taking notes. As much as her hums and little acknowledgements read as patronizing in the early stages of your relationship, you know now it’s her way of showing you that she’s listening - her way of getting you to keep talking. She won’t remember your thoughts on every single type of pine, but she’ll have a good baseline for next year.

She stands several more trees stand before you, and you swiftly chop them down, sending them back to the loser pile. You seem determined that your home will have nothing but the best. You pass your judgement on every row, and for a moment it seems like you’ll walk away empty handed.

But then, you see it. You tug Jill to a stop and point your mitten at a tree that’s nearly as wide as it is tall.

“That one.”

That tree looks exactly the same to her, minus the faint blue tint to the needles. She looks back at you, trying to gauge whether or not you’re serious. The way your eyes light up, the smile she knows to be hidden beneath your scarf - yeah, you’re definitely serious. She puts her cynicism down. Snow crunches under her boots, and she reaches through the branches to grab the tree by the trunk, hoisting it away from its fellows and setting it down where you can get a proper look at it. She gives it a slow twirl, letting you inspect it for any imperfections.

“This the one?” She asks after a complete revolution. You nod vigorously, the fuzzy ball at the top of your hat bouncing back and forth. Her mouth twitches into a smile. “You sure?”

You nod again. The fuzzy balls bounces. Jill laughs under her breath and hoists the tree onto her shoulder effortlessly.

She slips her hand into yours. Her skin is tacky with sap, a dark smudge against her palm. She smells like pine - the sap must be all over her clothes, with the way she was getting in there. You pull away with a giggle.

“Sticky.”

Jill rolls her eyes. She snatches your hand back. “It’s your fault. Turned me into a tree twirler.”

“At least you smell good now.”

“I always smell good.” “Eh...”

You’re lucky her hands are full of Christmas tree. She has half a mind to scoop up some snow from the ground and drop it down the back of your jacket. Later, she thinks. Maybe after she gets the tree tied to the top of the car. It’ll be cute to see you squirm.

#jill valentine x reader #jill valentine fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil fluff #jill valentine x you #resident evil #jill valentine #im always writing for myself but this one feels really egregiously self-indulgent idk enjoy anyway

97 notes · View notes

yelenaslyubov · 2 months ago

Text

AUTUMN FIC LIST ✩₊˚.

greetings fellow witches! i hope that this post finds you in good spirits ;) in honor of my favorite time of year i wanted to try and do something special. within the next couple months im going to be writing everything autumn! each fic, aside from requested content and my series, will have an autumnal theme and central plot. this could range from cute fluff, spooky content, or spicy scenes! i hope you all will have as much fun as i will!

i have several planned ideas, but i will gladly take more, so my inbox will be open to suggestions or requests for specific characters/people! below are some of the ideas that i could potentially write…

⋆☾⋆ autumn day in new york

⋆☾⋆ pumpkin patch & pumpkin carving

⋆☾⋆ summer camp slasher

⋆☾⋆ 1970s california cult

⋆☾⋆ carmilla retelling

⋆☾⋆ vampire hunter

⋆☾⋆ paranormal exorcism

⋆☾⋆ ghost hunting

⋆☾⋆ staying in a haunted hotel

⋆☾⋆ exploring a graveyard at night

⋆☾⋆ ‘alien’ franchise AU

⋆☾⋆ trick or treating

⋆☾⋆ costume party

⋆☾⋆ baking day

⋆☾⋆ werewolf

⋆☾⋆ apple picking

⋆☾⋆ autumn vacation

⋆☾⋆ bonfire with friends

⋆☾⋆ haunted house

⋆☾⋆ decorate for fall

⋆☾⋆ friendsgiving

⋆☾⋆ halloween/fall themed movie night

some of these ideas may be combined or i might not get to them at all, but i wanted to share some of the excitement i have for this!

reminder of who i write for ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

marvel

⁺₊✧ yelena belova

⁺₊✧ kate bishop

⁺₊✧ valkyrie

harry potter

⁺₊✧ female characters upon request

little women

⁺₊✧ amy

⁺₊✧ jo

⁺₊✧ meg

⁺₊✧ beth

yellowjackets

⁺₊✧ TBD/by request

game of thrones/house of the dragon

⁺₊✧ rhaenyra targaryen

⁺₊✧ alicent hightower

⁺₊✧ rhaenicent

⁺₊✧ daenerys targaryen

six of crows

⁺₊✧ nina

⁺₊✧ alina

⁺₊✧ inej

bridgerton

⁺₊✧ kate sharma

⁺₊✧ penelope featherington

⁺₊✧ eloise bridgerton

celebs

⁺₊✧ florence pugh

⁺₊✧ hailee steinfeld

⁺₊✧ renee rapp

⁺₊✧ emma d’arcy

⁺₊✧ olivia cooke

⁺₊✧ cailee spaeny

⁺₊✧ isabela merced

i hope you all are as excited as i am about this! and if you send a request, thank you and i look forward to writing it🖤

taglist: @youreatotalposer // @xxromanoffxx // @avengerswriter4eva // @xxxtwilightaxelxxx // @la-reine-des-enfers // @chickenlittlsblog // @belovasecho // @youresuchamom // @kacka84 // @alotofpockets // @yamum-com // @maia-lightwoood // @lifeontop // @marvelwomen-simp // @sarah5462 // @jackharlowsshawty // @batmanzbae-blog // @yelenabelovasbxtch // @marvelfan98 // @an-evergreen-rose // @popeheywardssecretgf // @lovelyy-moonlight // @justthis-stuff // @sat-yrr // @mythosphere-x // @daenerys713 // @bentleywolf29 // @natasha25052 // @ortega29 // @sherlockstrangewolf // @writing-randomness // @twentyonetornmyheart // @mathxa // @push-on-me // @natasha-romanoffs-world // @jade-maximoff // @umadirectioner // @ladyylesbian

#i hope you all are excited!!#my writing #autumn fic list #i love fall🤭

19 notes · View notes

emberfrostlovesloki · 1 year ago

Text

Talent [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@lavendair) Center (@hotchs-big-hands) Right (@muresetivoire)

Prompt: An inebriated Aaron finds out that the readers has a hidden talent and they offer to show him it later. When they get back to his apartment, more sober, Aaron apologizes, feeling awkward for getting them into this situation. They (the reader) honestly asks Hotch if he would let them do it anyway?

Pairing: Hotch x gender neutral reader. The reader uses they/them/their pronouns

Catagory: Hurt/comfort/smut

Word Count: 6.8K

A/N: Content warnings below the cut. This is a NSFW story. Minors DNI. 18+ only readers for this one. Please respect this boundary. A few things here so please bare with me. This was inspired by a little conversation between @softhairedhotch and @hotchs-big-hands That conversation can be found here (link)

I loved the idea and I got this wrote this. As usual, my writing got a bit more somber than I expected. Maybe that’s just my style idk? One last thing before you can actually read this thing, I insinuate that Hailey cheated on Hotch later in their marriage. I think this is an assumption the show makes, but never explicitly states. I don’t mean to slander Hailey in any way. I think she’s lovely and loved Aaron to the best of her ability. I did this mostly to make Hotch have self-doubt. I stan Hailey in my house. Lastly, this is only my third time posting smut, so forgive me it it’s not perfect. If you enjoy this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! I hope y’all have a good evening - Levi.

Content Warnings: Sex (slight hand job and blowjob [Hotch receiving]), slight size kink, sex and body doubt (Hotch), Foyet and the stabbing incident mentioned (mentioned that the attack was possibly psycho-sexual), blood, reference to a gag reflex, drinking (the team gets pretty intoxicated), sex life mentioned (reader and Hotch), Aaron is touch starved, cheating mentioned (Hailey). If I missed any, please let me know.

List will all stories

y/n = your name

y/c/h = your color hair

y/f/a = your favorite actor/actress

h/l = hair length

h/c = hair color - aka brown hair, black hair, blue hair ect.

d/h = dominant hand

Hotch nearly choked on his sip of beer. He tried to hide his coughs by putting his arm over his mouth. He had certainly not expected to hear Penelope, who was seated on Rossi’s rug with many other members of the team to say, “But you know I might have thrown up because the milk was expired, but y/n wouldn’t because they don’t have a gag reflex.” Aaron watched as y/n’s face turned crimson. y/n moved over to Garcia and jokingly shook their friend saying, “Pen, why would you talk about my sex life like that? You see, this is why you can never, ever meet my parents even though you keep asking. We’ll have, like, two drinks and then you’ll start talking about what position I like best.”

Upon hearing this, Aaron couldn’t take it anymore. He moved from the living room to the kitchen. He was trying very hard not to think about y/n in an array of sexual positions and acts, but he was failing. He was also trying to remember why the team had moved from the couches to the floor. A comment of Spencer's about the rug being comfortable and warm next to the fireplace that was roaring in the center of Dave’s living room might have been the reason. It was all a blur really. They were all drunk at this point. The team didn’t normally do this when they were together, but it was Friendsgiving and the last few cases had been relatively easy by their standards.

The team had a few days off, and shockingly they were all going to be in town, so Rossi had invited them all over to celebrate Thanksgiving as a unit. Everyone had brought something and it was nice to just relax and be together. His intoxicated brain circled back to the rug and to the topic of sex and he thought, ‘Oh god, no, no, no,’ but against his conscious brain he began to picture himself having sex with y/n on that soft shagged carpet. In his mind their back was arched, and they were panting as he thrust deeply into them. Aaron was startlingly pulled from his fantasy when his name was called. He looked up and flushed further. It was y/n leaning against the marble countertop. To his credit, y/n also had a flush to their face, and they asked, “What’s got you so flustered over there Mr. Hotchner.” Aaron tried to come up with an excuse, and he opened his mouth, but his brain couldn’t supply a reply, so he just closed his mouth. More mortified now than he may have ever been in front of a member of his team.

y/n walked closer to him, and they placed their hands on the edge of the counter. y/n leaned back on their strong arms which could be perceived in a sensual way. Hotch swallowed, and y/n looked him over. They noticed the bulge in Aaron’s well-fitted black trousers, but they averted their eyes quickly for his dignity, so that they didn’t start getting wild ideas. y/n was grateful that Hotch was a little too disheveled to have noticed them checking out his groin. Finally, after an awkward silence, y/n asked openly, drunkenly, “It’s not what Garcia said earlier that has you so riled up, is it?” There was that small undercurrent of desire in y/n’s voice that had Aaron feel a flash of heat rush through him again.

Hotch wouldn’t have to answer. His blown-out pupils, arousal, and micro-expressions were enough to tell y/n what they wanted to know. Even drunk this was obvious to them. Aaron gave a small nod, yes, anyway. y/n let out a small laugh before saying, “We see such horrible things in the field and my sexual abilities are what's causing your brain to reboot?” They were teasing him, and Hotch couldn’t help but say, “Well this isn’t the field.” He moved toward y/n and placed his hand on their hip. y/n’s exhalation of breath and flush of their skin told Aaron that the touch wasn’t unwanted. He’d never initiated anything romantic or sexual with y/n.

The small part of his brain that was still functioning normally was screaming at him to stop. That he might regret this when he was sober. But his id was stronger than that voice. As his other hand moved to y/n’s other hip, he looked down at them. y/n’s eyes were wide and shining with a type of desire he’d never seen on their face before. _y/n_ breathily said his name; “Aaron.” Without much more to think about he asked, “Is what Garcia said true? Or is she just making stuff up again?” y/n flushed and acted askance and replied, “Why Hotch, that’s not a nice thing to ask someone.” Aaron bit back a sigh and applied gentle pressure to _y/n_’s hips. Their body moved with his touch and y/n truthful answered, “It is true though. It’s my hidden talent that’s rarely used.” y/n looked up at Hotch and the desire, the hunger they saw on his face left them reeling for a second. They knew this was crossing a hundred lines, but in that moment the very feeling of his hands on their body was such a rush that they didn’t fight it. The idea of Aaron’s large hands elsewhere had them boldly state, “I can show you later on if you let me come to your apartment?”

That image actually made Hotch groan. It was quiet, and Aaron was eternally grateful that no one on the team had come in yet to refresh their drinks. Maybe they had all assumed what y/n and he were discussing and were intentionally not entering the room. Aaron asked, surprised at y/n’s offer and their willingness to accept, “You’d do that for me?” There was that soft throaty laugh again, and y/n said, “Of course I would Hotch.” Aaron swallowed again and replied, “Okay. But only if you really want to. You don’t have to do anything for me like that if you don’t want to.” y/n moved their hand, patted his shoulder, and said, “I promise that you will get enthusiastic consent from me before it happens. And if either of us changes our minds, we can pretend this little conversation never happened.

After this, they headed back to the living room. If the team had been intentionally avoiding them, they hid it well. The members of the BAU seemed to be engrossed watching Spencer speed-read Rossi’s well-worn copy of Critique of Pure Reason by Kant. As y/n sat back down next to Emily, they whispered, “Why are we watching Spence read?” Emily listed slightly toward y/n and said, “We’re going to have Rossi test him on the concepts of the book. Or see if the genius can remember some especially long passages. We want to see how much he can remember when he’s this drunk.” y/n chuckled at the concept. They were now also invested.

An hour and a half later the team slowly started saying their goodbyes. At this stage, y/n and Aaron were more in control of their faculties. They were the third party to leave, and they both shared an Uber back to Hotch’s apartment. Because neither of them knew how much they would be drinking that night, they had shared a ride over to Rossi’s together. y/n only lived two blocks over and Aaron promised to walk them the rest of the way home. On the short ride back, y/n and Hotch both gained more clarity, and Aaron was starting to feel uncomfortable with what he had said two hours earlier. His desire for y/n was still there, but he knew he shouldn’t have said what he did. Suggested what he had. As it turned out, Aaron’s desire for his younger agent rarely, if ever waned.

When y/n had joined the team a few years ago, he had quickly found himself drawn to them physically. Hotch didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he couldn’t deny that he had experienced lust at first sight with y/n. It was like y/n had been made for him. When Hotch first thought this fully -- not just with the small voice he used to stifle unwanted thoughts with -- he realized how much of a narcissist it made him sound like. It was with that thought that he buried all feelings about y/n. He couldn’t risk going there, even in his mind. But with there still being a slight buzz in his head, his mind wandered to how the slope of y/n’s shoulders was gentle yet angular. How their y/h/c looked during golden hour, the way their eyes had held his gaze earlier that evening when they had offered to show him their talent. Aaron shifted slightly in his seat to try and readjust himself. His body was having ideas of its own again, and he didn’t appreciate it. Aaron looked over to y/n who seemed to be in their own type of reverie. It hadn’t helped that he found them attractive and that they were such a good person.

On the team, y/n was smart. They could come up with ideas as fast as Spencer and the duo could be often found at precincts and their hotel rooms bouncing ideas off each other at a mile-a-minute pace. They were also fiercely protective of the team. If someone questioned the team, or specifically a member of the team, they were there to professionally correct and support either the team or the member being targeted. He had seen them do it for JJ, Garcia, and Morgan which was funny because Derek could generally take care of himself. But that hadn’t mattered to y/n. They had stood up for and comforted Derek in their way.

y/n had comforted him too. It was more polite than with the other agents, but they had done it all the same. Aaron knew that y/n felt similarly about him as he felt about them. It was clear in their actions and demeanor around him. y/n hid it well most of the time, but every now and then, he would get a hint that those desires resided in y/n too, and he had to fight his feelings all over again. It was all a mess, and now they would have to talk about tonight. The conversations had been mutually intimate and yes, having his subordinate offer to perform fellatio on him broke about a dozen rules and regulations, but he had continued the conversation. He could have walked away, lied, or done ten thousand other things than being honest and accepting the offer. Aaron stifled another groan of annoyance and embarrassment. He knew he was fucked, or perhaps not fucked, in loads of ways. At least their conversation had been consensual. There was a small mercy in that.

As the car moved down the quiet streets, y/n could feel Aaron near them. They chose to look out the car window instead of at their companion. y/n needed a few minutes to settle their thoughts. To say y/n was mortified about their behavior during the evening was an understatement. Their attraction to Hotch was undeniable, and they saw the tells on their boss as well. That didn’t make what they had done that evening right. y/n had been shocked by how quickly and hard they had been attracted to Aaron.

y/n didn’t know they could feel so intensely until they met him. Of course, there had been teen idols. And they had rewatched a few movies with y/f/a a few hundred times. But that was an actor, and Hotch was a real man in flesh and blood. To mention the fact that he was their boss didn’t help the matter either. In all honesty, everyone on the team had said something more personal than they would have sober during the night, but y/n was certain what they and Aaron had revealed was the most intimate. The street lights continued to pass by in a blur as they approached Aaron’s apartment. y/n knew that things would come to a head when they got there, and y/n couldn’t help but think for one second, ‘Is my desire for him so wrong? God we both feel it. Why couldn’t life be easier? Why couldn’t they just give in for once?” These were the thoughts that swilled within them, between them, as they sped toward their destination.

When they arrived outside of Aaron’s, the two stood outside of his stoop in an awkward silence. Aaron broke it first by saying, “I never should have said anything in the kitchen. I never should have put my hands on you. I sincerely apologize for my actions, y/n. I never meant to make this uncomfortable between us. I value your contributions to the team and I’d never view you as a sexual object. I was drunk and it was a mistake.”

Hotch realized that he was rambling, and he looked to y/n for their response. They looked back and him and replied, “I started it. Well, Garcia started it. It was out of line for me to approach you like that. I respect you, Hotch. I apologize.” They both stood in the frosty air, under the light of a lone streetlamp. The wind picked up and both parties seemed unwilling to leave the conversation where it was. y/n shuddered against the cold and used a voice they rarely did with Aaron. y/n asked, “Can we go into your apartment for a minute before you walk me home? I think I need to warm up for a minute before you walk me back.”

The voice they used was one-third needy, one-third empathetic, and one-third pleading. Though Aaron could be reading into the pleading part of it. Perhaps he just wanted that to be the case. y/n had only spoken to him once before like that and it was when he had gotten injured on a case. y/n had asked him to slow down in the same tone and just like back then, he couldn’t refuse them. Hotch pulled out his keys and unlocked his front door. As they moved inside, he turned on the light above his sink and then he took a few large strides to turn on some lamps in the living space. Aaron gestured to the couch and offered y/n a seat, which y/n took.

Aaron moved toward the sink and asked over his shoulder, “Would you like a glass of water?” y/n closed their eyes at the thoughts bombarding them and said, “Yes, please.” Aaron grabbed two glasses from his cabinets and added some ice from the freezer before filling them with water. When he turned back to y/n, they had their d/h pinching the skin between their eyebrows; their face in a half grimace. Aaron moved quickly toward them and asked, “y/n, are you alright? Do you have a headache?” y/n let out a nervous laugh before removing their hand and saying, “Not yet. But it’s sure to come in a few hours. I’m not a college kid at a pre-game party anymore. I can’t do that kind of drinking without the consequences.” Aaron chuckled at _y/n_’s response. Given that he was a good deal older than y/n him, he could only imagine how bad it might be for himself in the morning. He added taking some Advil before bed to his mental notes. He would do that as soon as y/n was safely home. Even though things had been odd between them for the last half of the night, he would still ensure that they got home safe before he returned to his space to re-wrangle the thoughts that had fought their way back to the surface again. He let out a soft sigh, as he watched y/n take a sip of water.

y/n set their glass down and looked up at Aaron. They asked a question that had undercut the whole night for them. They asked because at this moment having to fake disinterest felt like too great a burden to bear, and because they knew they were already in trouble, so why not face the full consequence? y/n said what was really on their mind with, “What if I wanted to show you anyway? Apart from Pen’s comments? Apart from the fact that I was drunk when I said what I did.” There was a silence and Hotch’s eyes blinked at what they said, trying to register the words; what was being offered. He felt the hitch in his breath as he said, “y/n I…”

They cut Hotch off saying, “Aaron. I see how you look at me. And I know that you see how I look at you. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep pretending to not care about you. To not want to give you more.” Hotch blinked a few times rapidly, trying to clear this head of images. Even now that he was in full control of his mind, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering. Aaron closed his eyes and said y/n’s name in desperation. In shame. They looked up at him and said, “Tell me that I’m wrong. Tell me that I’m wrong and I’ll stop immediately.” As hard as Aaron tried to say no, he couldn’t bring himself to.

y/n stood and half maneuvered Aaron to sit on his couch. They knelt and pushed his knees open. Hotch groaned and said, “You can’t possibly want this?” y/n ran their hands over his inner thighs and said, “I’m in full control of my faculties, Aaron. If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t be here. y/n looked over his seated body. He looked so prone like this; exposed. They often wondered about Aaron. How he felt about himself, and his strong body. y/n had noticed that he wore more layers after what had happened with Foyet. The textures and materials of his suits had changed as well. Half of the time y/n was sure he was sweating under all that fabric. _y/n_ gently dropped to their knees and asked Hotch, who was looking at them with trepidation, guilt even, “Aaron, are you alright? What’s going on in that head of yours?”

For the last year or so, after Foyet, Hotch had been physically cutting himself off from close contact of any kind. It brought up too many painful memories of Hailey before she and Jack had to flee to witness protection before she divorced him. When he was younger he had been so passionately in love with her. It was the most he had ever felt in his life, and with his childhood the way it was, there was a great comfort in that. When he and Hailey had met again as adults, those feelings were still there and they persisted throughout his time in law school and his short stint as a prosecutor.

But when he had joined the BAU things had changed. At first, there had been a thrill for both of them. But with time, Hailey seemed to grow tired of his constant comings and goings. His late nights in the office under Gideon. Their sex life had changed and what used to be passionate and loving sex turned into less passionate more need-based sex from either himself or his wife. Then Jack happened, and Gideon’s incident in Boston which left even less time for him to spend with his wife and newborn son. Again sex changed for them because Hailey needed time to heal and Jack took up most of their time when Aaron was home. When they had been intimate at that stage it felt different. It happened rarely and he could feel Hailey withdraw from his touch sometimes.

A few months later, when he started to assume that she might be acting unfaithfully to him he started to understand why his wife was so hesitant to be around him. Aaron didn’t want to believe it was true. He wanted to think that it had something to do with him. Some shortcomings of his character or body. When it came out that she had been seeing someone else, Aaron forgave her. He still loved her deeply and he knew that he had his own issues; being around was the chief one for his wife. Some part of him understood why she had sought comfort in someone else while he was away even though he would never do that to her. A part of Aaron still thought that there was something wrong with him, his body, and his performance in bed. And the last time he and Hailey had really, intentionally tried to be intimate, his own doubts and the thought of her with another man had not allowed him to finish. Aaron didn’t assume that was the death knell of their marriage, but part of him factored it in.

Then Foyet had physically assaulted him, his body. Hotch never told anyone, and the team didn’t say anything, but he had wondered if Foyet was seeking some sort of sick sexual release with the knife as a subsite penis. Aaron had passed out from blood loss before he could know the answer to that question. Aaron was grateful for that to this day. So the idea that y/n, the kind and caring person they were was interested in him sexually was rather unbelievable to him. It had been so long since he had been sexual. He even stopped allowing himself to touch himself if he woke up aroused. He felt like he deserved it. He didn’t know how he would act, or perform if he accepted y/n’s offer. Thinking about it made him nervous. And yet, his desire for y/n persisted.

Hotch swallowed and he suddenly felt like he needed ten glasses of water instead of the one he had just consumed. He looked down at y/n and replied, “I shouldn’t even be sitting here. These thoughts… they.” Aaron felt embarrassed at himself and looked away, not really knowing what to say. It had been so long that he had felt a desire this strong. It had been even longer that someone had been this intimate with him. Even to have his legs spread and y/n looking up at him with such care. They hadn’t even fucking done anything yet. Aaron closed his legs and y/n let him.

They wanted Hotch to know that he had full control of his body. Of what happened, if anything did end up happening. y/n stood and leaned close to him. With tender care, y/n took his chin in their hand and directed his face to look at them. y/n said, “Desire isn’t a sin Hotch. There isn’t some cosmic scale weighing whether you looked at some girl crossing the road five years ago. It’s a natural feeling; it’s not wrong to feel it. If anything you’ve been restraining yourself. So have I.

I care about you too much to just keep dreaming about you at night. It feels like I’m using you. So now you know how I feel. Now would you please let me do this for you?” Aaron had to blink back a few tears at y/n’s statement. It was so honest that he could hardly see past it. It was blinding in its sincerity. To know that y/n felt like him in that way made him feel warm in a different way than his body responding to theirs. As a last half-assed defense, he said quietly, “I’m your boss.” The chuckle y/n let out had his eyes on them in an instant. Laughter hadn’t been the response he had expected. y/n was wearing their ‘color me surprised’ face. And Aaron laughed at the expression too. It was no surprise to both of them. But this wasn’t about power dynamics, it was about tenderness and longing, and when y/n asked, “Would you let me take care of you?” He nodded his head yes and then verbalized that he wanted it too.

With his consent given. y/n pressed into him. Their hands found traction on his biceps, and they moved their mouth over his neck. y/n could feel his steady pulse under their mouth. At the contact, Aaron let out a sigh. His body reacted almost immediately. He shifted slightly, closed his eyes, and moved his head to the side a bit to give y/n better access to his flesh. When Aaron had gotten in the apartment, he had discarded his suit jacket and tie to be more comfortable. His shirt however was still buttoned tightly.

y/n’s hands worked at the top two buttons, but they were struggling as they tried to keep their mouth on Hotch’s skin while doing the buttons at the same time. y/n was both kissing and sucking at the sanative area. Aaron moved his arms to slide between their bodies, as he undid the troublesome buttons. y/n hummed their thanks, and as they moved to treat his clavicles and breast bone, they breathed hot and heavy over his neck. The semi-excited state of his cock grew quickly. y/n moved over the area with reverence. While their mouth worked over his partially exposed torso, their hands also moved. Their right hand was tracing the lines of his muscle on his stomach and the other was slowly trailing up and down his left thigh. When y/n placed their hand over his hardness, shielded by his pants and briefs, he groaned -- loudly. He felt embarrassed, and y/n looked up at him and said, “It’s okay to feel. I want you to enjoy this.” With how large he felt under their hand, y/n was excited to see his manhood.

They moved back to their knees, and this time, as they pushed his thighs open, Aaron let it happen. y/n set one hand on his hip and the other moved under his linen shirt, wrinkling it. y/n started kissing at his knee and slowly moved up his thigh. As they got close to his arousal, which was throbbing hard against his underwear and the zipper of his pants, they moved to the other leg and began the process again. Hotch let out a shaky breath. Whatever hesitations he had been having at the start were as far away as Neptune now. The slow buildup was driving him insane. Finally, y/n made it to his groin and kissed over his erection. From what they could feel, he was large. Long and wide. As y/n made their tactile observations with their mouth, they thought back to the dreams they had had of Aaron.

He was always well endowed in them, but now that they were here, he might even be bigger than they had imagined. y/n thought, ‘Of course he’s big. This is Hotch we’re talking about.’ They refrained from laughing but did let out a small breath. Their thought might be funny to them, but it might come off very differently to Aaron. They didn’t want to think they were laughing at him. They never wanted that.

Once they had kissed up the tip which was being held down by his belt, y/n moved their face away and started to undo the buckle of his belt. The metal was cool under y/n’s fingers. Once the belt was slipped through the front two belt loops and the two at his hips, y/n shifted forward and grabbed the hem of his shirt. They moved the stranded weave fabric up, exposing his stomach. y/n leaned in and kissed over his belly button. Their tongue licked over the well in his form, and Aaron moaned again. y/n then moved to kiss one of the exposed scars on his body. He looked down at y/n like this, and he wondered what it would be like with him in her mouth?

He stopped himself from bucking up at the thought. While y/n had been working over his body, his breathing had picked up. At this new sensation, he whispered their name. y/n made quick work of the buttons and zipper of his pants. They were careful that there were no unintended snags as they tugged the small pull down. y/n looked over his cloaked member. They kissed the shaft and then moved their hand to press against it before slowly stroking it through his gray briefs. y/n used their pointer and little finger to stimulate the sides, while their ring and middle finger applied pressure to the front of his penis. y/n didn’t tease him with their hand too long. This wasn’t the pleasure Olympics. They didn’t know how much stimulation Aaron was used to, and y/n didn’t want to overdo it for him. Before y/n removed the final layer of clothing, they looked up to Aaron again to ensure he was still on board with this last exposure. Hotch looked into their eyes, the question evident to him. In a deep voice, one full of need, he said, “Yes. If you’re willing.” y/n replied in the affirmative, saying, “I want to.”

With consent given, y/n tugged at the elastic band of his briefs. Aaron put his weight on his feet and lifted his hips for them. y/n pulled down the fabric and revealed his member for the first time, as it rested on his body. He was large and as Hotch settled back down on the couch, they looked over him with pleasure. y/n’s hand circled the base, and they started pumping up and down with a steady pace and pressure. They praised him saying, “You’re very impressive Aaron.” Their praise and the feeling of their hands moving over him had him squirming and breathing heavily.

He was starting to sweat now, and he had never imagined it would be like this. Because if he had, he would never be able to let go. But now that it was actually happening, he couldn’t care about the complications. He felt so good with y/n rubbing their hand against his cock, and he muttered, “Fuck, y/n. You’re so good.” They smiled, and he cursed again as y/n used their other hand to stroke and circle the base of his member. y/n didn’t spend a very long time with their digits, after all, they had promised to show Aaron their talent, and having him cum in their hands was not on the agenda.

So y/n removed their d/h from the shaft and Aaron’s eyes grew wide with the sudden loss of contact. He felt like he might explode if didn’t have that stimulation moving over him. He was about to say something, but the breath was forced from his body as y/n took the tip in their mouth. y/n shifted on their knees a bit to be able to best take Hotch in. The carpet under their legs was decently comfortable, but the wood floor underneath was solid.

y/n paid attention to the tip first, suckling it and running their tongue over the slit on the top. Aaron tried to take a steadying breath, but he was falling apart at the sensation of pleasure rushing through him. When y/n was comfortable with the feel of him and had built some confidence at being able to take him in, they pushed their tongue down and hollowed their cheeks. Carefully covering their teeth, y/n moved their mouth further down his length. At this, Hotch tipped his head back and moaned again. y/n wasn’t even halfway down him before some precum leaked from the tip. y/n pulled up and sucked the briny ejaculate off his cock. y/n swallowed it quickly and moved back to working him over. They would think more deeply about the taste of Hotch’s cum later, but for now, they wanted to keep hearing Aaron mutter their name or try to keep his breathing even. They could feel from his reactions and the throbbing of his cock that he wasn’t in control at all, even if he was trying to be. y/n momentarily wondered how long it had been since anyone had done this for him.

Aaron's width not only filled their mouth, but his length, even though they didn’t have a natural gag reflex, was still a bit too much for y/n to fully cover with their mouth. About an inch was left exposed to the cool air. Before y/n moved their free hand to make up the difference, they looked over Hotch. The sight of him, head tipped back, mouth open sent a wave of pleasure through them. y/n noticed Hotch’s hands gripping the side of the couch with white knuckles. As y/n continued to move over him, they used their free hand to grab Hotch’s left hand from the couch cushion and to set it on the crown of their head.

Aaron looked down at y/n as they moved his hand to the back of their head. He hesitated. He was desperate to take what was being offered on top of what was already happening. On top of the bliss and heat, he was feeling in his cock. y/n patted his hand on their head giving him a non-verbal “It’s okay.” Aaron couldn’t help himself and threaded his long fingers in y/n’s h/l h/c. y/n continued to move up and down his shaft, and then covered the base of his cock that couldn’t be inside their mouth. With Aaron fully enveloped, he bucked his hips up and as y/n had said, the extra pressure didn’t cause any gag reaction. In fact, _y/n_ hummed their satisfaction at his action.

He trembled under y/n and thought about what they had said earlier in the night about feelings not being wrong. And moving his hips had felt so, so, blindingly good that he did it again. And then again, and again, and again until he was sure he could feel himself ready to cum. y/n was intently focused on his pleasure. Aaron’s member was lined with a few thick veins running down the side and back. As Hotch started to take control of his own pleasure with gentle pressure to their head, y/n lifted their tongue up and down those ridges on his cock. This new sensation and the slight sucking that y/n was doing sent him over the edge. Aaron’s hand tightened in y/n’s hair, and he came with a shudder. He let out a loud moan and pulled y/n’s head off of his cock. They had only taken a bit of his semen in their mouth. y/n wondered why he hadn’t let them swallow his ejaculation, but didn’t ask now. There were still so many things to know about him. Things they hoped they could learn together with time. y/n stroked his thigh softly as he rode out his orgasm. Seeing him so out of control only wanted to make them care for him more.

When the waves of pleasure subsided, Aaron relaxed back into the couch cushion. He closed his eyes because he was afraid of what he would see in y/n’s eyes if he opened them. He wasn’t fully sure how to cope with what they had given him. A soft touch of his thigh did eventually made him see y/n, and they were looking at him with a care he had rarely seen in his life. He swallowed back some tears, and he patted the couch next to him. As y/n got up from their knees, and sat next to him. He pulled his underwear over his nakedness. His cum was staining his shirt and pants and he would need to launder and shower after he talked to y/n.

y/n sat and gave him space, but he needed to feel them close to him. To have this living, breathing care in his arms. He turned to face y/n and asked, “May I hold you?” y/n nodded, and Aaron moved his arm to rest behind their lower back. He pulled y/n close to his side, and they turned toward him softly. y/n placed their head on his broad, muscular shoulder. There were a few moments of comfortable silence before y/n said, “You don’t ever owe me anything, Aaron. You know that right?” The question lingered until Aaron’s hand moved to the back of y/n’s head, gently running his digits through the smooth hair.

A different kind of touch than what he had been doing a few minutes before. Now that he had been sated, he feared that a gulf would form between them. But y/n’s comment gave him something to think about, to still his nervous mind. Finally, he replied, “But I do owe you things y/n. I owe you safety on the field, professionalism in the office, and privacy. I feel like I owe you more than those things as well.” y/n’s hand was back on his thigh again and they replied, “Okay, valid point. At the job, you do play a different role, but we’re both adults Hotch. We’re not teenagers trying to shag in the high school gymnasium. Given how long we’ve waited for something to happen between us, I think we can keep it together at work.” At this statement, Aaron chuckled lightly. y/n was certainly true about that. After a beat, y/n continued saying, “But is it so impossible to believe that we couldn’t do both? That we couldn’t care for each other outside of work?” Aaron pondered the question. He thought about what they had said. About the profound pleasure, y/n had brought him; and not just physical pleasure, but an emotional cover as well made him consider his words wisely, carefully. When y/n was with him like this, it felt like his many flaws disappeared. That he had a clean slate. Hotch closed his eyes and rested his head on top of y/n’s, as he said, “I willing to try.”

When it was appropriate, Aaron quickly cleaned himself, changed, and then walked y/n back to their apartment. Before y/n went inside, Hotch placed a hand on their lower back and leaned down to kiss y/n’s forehead. They had both agreed to take a day and see if any other feelings, questions, or concerns that might arise once they were apart. They scheduled a meeting of sorts for Sunday to talk more deeply and thoroughly about what this relationship might look like. When they parted for real, Aaron walked down the quiet street. It was late in the night, but he didn’t feel tired. As he walked, he considered how physically closed off he had been the last few months. Close off to the team and himself. But y/n had helped him see the sky again and no matter what happened after this, he would always be grateful for that.

On Monday, y/n went to see Garcia. To honestly say, “What the hell Pen?” However, the technical analyst had been watching y/n and Aaron pine for each other for two years and even though her comment at Rossi’s had been a Freudian slip, she still noticed how the pair spent a long time in the kitchen. How they had both come back flushed, eyes wide. Once y/n stepped into Garcia’s space, Penelope could see that something happened and did a little happy dance in her chair before getting up and dragging y/n into her office, closing the door. Once they were alone, Pen said, “y/n tell me everything.” y/n flushed, a bit exasperated, and said, “The answer is, I may never tell you anything about my sex life again. But thanks, Penelope.” y/n winked at their friend and left the office with a smile on their face. Garcia gave a little excited scream of happiness as she moved back to her desk. Sometimes when things didn’t go to plan, it still worked out.

Text Break Banners by @cafekitsune

Taglist: @criminalskies @tgskitten @geminitapestry @potatovoyager @princessjax @samaldonado5

Want to be added to the taglist? Please see My CM Taglist Post (linked)

Want to send in a request? Please check out this post, CM Request Post (linked)

89 notes · View notes