#jessica's writing nonsense

[jessicas-pi]

rereading my old writing like bad. dumb. cringe. oh that line slaps. bad again.

[gifti3]

i think a good yandere needs to at least be a little pathetic

[eighteenoheight]

Unpopular opinion but I actually like Jessica’s diver outfit. I think it’s camp and tacky which is very much her personality. The one leg and the high heels are so stupid I can’t help but love it.

[mggslover]

No Strings Attached

In which reader is on a mission to get her boss to relieve some stress, not realizing he'd end up doing the same for her.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: smut (18+) x fluff Content warnings: porn with plot, jessica and jack make an appearance, no mention of haley, hotch smiling (lol), reader being sad and a bit insecure bc she hasn't got laid in a while, mentions of drinking wine, no strings attached (but not really bc they're obsessed with each other), soft!dom hotch, praise, breast play, ass worship, oral (f receiving), p in v sex Word count: 4,7k A/n: first time writing a fic dedicated to Hotch and i fear i'm obsessed... also i had to do some acrobatics to make sure these positions work (they do) so give me a heart for the effort your feedback and support are highly appreciated!

Aaron Hotchner is a busy man. And these days, even more so. The responsibilities of being Unit Chief were always demanding, but they seemed to multiply now that he was balancing the weight of single parenthood as well.

As a profiler it was obvious to you how much he struggled with juggling between these professions, even though he always tried to hide it from the team. You noticed his slightly furrowed brow when he thought no one was watching, and the slow drag of his steps as he moved between meetings and paperwork.

Since you’d joined the team, you'd developed a deep respect for Aaron. Where others saw a hard-nosed, no-nonsense boss—a “drill sergeant” in Morgan’s words—you saw a man who held himself and his team to incredibly high standards because he believed in their potential. You saw a man who cared deeply, even when his personal life was slowly suffocating beneath the pressure of it all.

Even if he would never admit it, no human being can go through the difficulties he goes through without ever catching a break, without getting any help. So tonight, as you passed his office, a light still flickering inside, you decided to do something about it.

Your knuckle made contact with the door, knocking three times as you waited. When there was no immediate response, you quietly creaked the door open.

The sight of him behind the desk was familiar. His shoulders were hunched and his brows furrowed in concentration, as he scanned the endless stacks of paperwork that seemed to breed faster than he could handle them.

"Hey," you greeted softly, offering a small smile as you stepped into the room.

Hotch looked up from the pile in front of him, his gaze flicking from the documents to you. There was a slight exhaustion behind his eyes that he didn’t try to mask.

"Hey.” His eyes dropped to his wristwatch for just a moment, his lips curling into a subtle frown. "It’s late. Why haven’t you gone home yet?"

You waved off his concern. "I’m about to. Had to send a few more emails for the lab reports."

He nodded, but didn’t immediately return to his work. Instead, he watched you with that signature intensity of his, silently observing you.

"I- uh, I wanted to ask you something.” You hesitated for a moment as you moved further into the room, the door gently clicking shut behind you.

His brows rose slightly, an almost imperceptible shift of interest in his posture. "Go on."

You cleared your throat, your hands instinctively clasping behind your back. "You’ve been working a lot of late nights."

“That’s not a question.” He stated in an amused tone.

A small smile played on your lips. "I know, but it’s a… concern," you said. "And I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you out."

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. His hands folded neatly in his lap, and he leaned back in his chair. It was hard to tell whether he was considering your offer or mentally debating the logistics of it.

"You want to help me out?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes.”

Aaron grabbed a stack of papers, knocking them into a neat pile on his desk, then looked back at you. "So, this is something you’re interested in?" His tone was laced with amusement as he nodded down at the amount of paperwork in his hands.

You winced at the sight of it. "Uh... not exactly," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "I was thinking more along the lines of taking care of Jack," you added, raising your voice slightly on the last part, unsure of how he’d react to your suggestion.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Taking care of Jack?"

"Yeah.” You met his gaze, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty creeping in. "Just on the days we don’t have a case. I could go to your place and stay with him until you get home."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You know Jessica’s there," he said, referring to his ex-sister-in-law who had taken on the role of taking care of Jack when he had to work.

“Don’t you think she deserves a break every once in a while?”

His expression shifted, becoming slightly defensive. "She offered to take care of him.”

"I know," you responded quickly, knowing he’d never force her into it. "But I’m offering too. I babysat all through university, I know what I’m doing."

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, his eyes flicking back to the papers in front of him. "That’s not necessary, but thank you," he said, his tone closing the conversation.

You weren’t ready to let it go yet. You stepped closer to his desk, hoping to draw his attention back. "Please? I want to help you."

He didn’t look up. "I don’t need any help," he stubbornly replied, his eyes still glued to the paperwork.

“Then let me put it this way,” you pressed on. "I want to help the team, because no offense, your stress is affecting all of us. And on top of that, I want to help Jack."

He glanced up at you, the wheels in his mind turning, and you showed him your best puppy eyes.

"Did you learn that from Reid?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Is it working?" you grinned back.

He chuckled breathlessly. "Alright, fine. One night. Let’s see how it goes."

You fought back a victorious grin. “Good. Just you wait, Hotchner. Once you see how great I am with kids, you’ll never let me go."

—

A week later, Hotch took you up on your offer. Jessica had a wedding to attend, and you’d agreed to look after Jack for the evening.

Though you’d spent plenty of time with Jack when he visited his dad at the office or at events outside of work, Hotch insisted on driving you to his place for a proper handoff.

He held the door open for you as you entered his apartment. You were immediately greeted by Jessica, dressed in a stunning outfit with a purse ready in hand.

"I’m late, I’m late!" she panicked, almost running as she headed for the door. But when she saw you, her demeanor softened.

“There’s my saving grace,” she said with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

You waved her off with a grin. “It’s my pleasure. You look amazing, go have fun.”

She offered a final smile, then said her goodbyes to Hotch before quickly heading out.

“Hi, Dad!” Jack’s voice rang out as he bounced into the living room, his excitement palpable. You smiled, watching the little boy as he ran toward his father.

“Hey, buddy.” Hotch lifted him into his arms with a small groan. “You’re getting bigger every day.”

Your heart warmed at the exchange. Hotch was a completely different man when he was at home—more relaxed, more playful, the kind of father who carefully kept work and family separate.

He put Jack down, introducing you to him.

“I know who she is, Dad. We colored together. She’s really good at drawing Spider-Man.”

Hotch raised an intrigued eyebrow at you.

"I have more hidden talents than you know,” you playfully shrugged.

You turned to Jack, crouching down to his level. "Want to grab the crayons? We can make some more drawings."

Jack’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he scampered off in search of his favorite colors, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll find the red one!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm and straightened up, turning back to Hotch. “You’ve got a sweet kid,”

Hotch’s eyes followed Jack as he rummaged through the drawer. There was pride in the way he looked at his son, but you could see the hint of anxiety that always seemed to lurk beneath the surface when it came to Jack.

You placed a reassuring hand on his arm, giving him a small, comforting squeeze. “He’s in good hands, Hotch. You don’t have to worry.”

He met your eyes, and for a brief moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift. His gaze softened with unspoken gratitude. “I trust you,” he spoke sincerely.

“Good.” You gave him a small smile and gave his bicep a final, reassuring pat. “Now get some work done. You might be able to make it in time for dinner.”

With a final glance at Jack, he turned to leave. The door clicked softly behind him, and you were left on your own with the mini version of him, who was already showing off his new crayons.

—

That evening marked the first of many. When you weren’t out on a case, you found yourself naturally heading to Hotch's after work—sometimes taking over from Jessica for the day or picking up Jack from school yourself. You often stayed well into the evening, even after Hotch came home, enjoying dinner together, playing games, or simply talking. There were even times where you stayed the night, sharing a quiet drink after putting Jack to bed. He’d insist you sleep in his bed while he took the couch. In the mornings, the three of you would share breakfast, with Hotch always ensuring the fridge was stocked with your favorite foods and knowing exactly how you liked your eggs.

You knew your colleagues would lose their minds if they’d ever find out, but for you, it never felt strange. It felt right. Comfortable. And whenever you were back on the field, you’d slip back into your professional roles—the accidental first-name slips the only sign of the bond you shared.

Being at their place made you realize how much your work had tangled itself into every aspect of your life. You’d moved away from family, struggled to maintain a personal life, and watched every attempt at dating falter because of your job. Despite how fulfilling your work at the BAU was, you’d forgotten just how deeply you craved a sense of belonging—a place where you were appreciated for more than just your professional skills or your ability to handle a weapon. Around Aaron and Jack, you could simply let go and be yourself.

Today was another day at the Hotchner house. You had spent the entire afternoon with Jack playing soccer in a nearby park until he was utterly exhausted, you practically had to drag him home. This time you didn’t mind though. Today has been a painful reminder of how single you were. The park had been filled with happy couples—some picnicking, some feeding the ducks, and others nervously sharing their first kiss.

You were grateful for how Aaron had allowed you to wiggle your way into his little family on days like these, but still it wasn’t yours. You still longed for one to call your own one day.

So, here you were—alone on the couch, watching a rom-com wishing you were starring in it, and finding comfort in the warmth of his house and the glass of wine in your hand.

You were so absorbed in the movie that you didn’t notice the door unlocking until Hotch stepped inside.

“Hey,” you greeted, reaching for the remote to pause the film.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, putting down his bag and hanging up his jacket. He loosened his tie and walked over to the couch, settling on the opposite end.

“Sorry, I opened a new bottle of wine”

He waved it off. “I’m glad that you did. It would’ve just collected dust on the shelf.”

You take another sip. “It’s a good one. Rossi’s?”

“You know it,” he replied with a soft smile, getting comfortable in the cushions as you put the movie back on.

The screen flickered with a romantic scene: a couple dancing in the rain, the male lead spinning the woman around in circles as they laughed.

“I miss that,” you murmured, a wistful smile tugging at your lips as you watched them.

Hotch glanced at you, a smirk forming. “It’s raining outside. Be my guest.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully dismissing the comment. “That’s not what I meant. Just look, Aaron,” you pointed at the TV, where the couple gazed at each other lovingly, before he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. “I don’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that.”

“Sometimes, I feel so desperate that I think about saying yes to the first guy who comes along, just to feel wanted again.”

Hotch straightened, concern flickering in his eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“I know, Dad,” you teased, trying to ease the tension. “I’m unfortunately fully aware of the creeps out there.”

“On top of that, I’m not even sure anyone would take me up on it,” you added with a breathless laugh, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I haven’t exactly gotten much attention since joining the team. Maybe I’m not considered attractive anymore.”

“People can tell you know how to handle yourself,” he profiled. “Some find that intimidating. But you’re just as attractive—if not more so—than before you joined the team.”

You almost spilled your wine at his confession, the sudden heat in your cheeks betraying the flutter in your stomach.

“You don’t have to say that,” you mumbled, not wanting him to feel pity for you.

“Am I lying?” he asked, his voice steady. You met his gaze—his posture was open, his shoulders relaxed, and his eye contact was unwavering. It was textbook honesty.

“No,” you admitted quietly, feeling the truth of his words sink in.

“I don’t think you need some stranger or a serious relationship to get what you’re after.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “No?”

Hotch leaned in just a little, his voice lower now. “I think we could give each other what we need... without it being complicated.”

Your heart skipped, and you tried to process what he was suggesting. Your mind raced, the words hanging in the air between you.

“Are you suggesting a no-strings-attached relationship with me?”

He gave a small, wry smile. “I’m trying to be subtle about it, but it’s not going so well.”

You laughed, caught off guard, trying to mask your surprise as you saw the seriousness in his expression.

“How will this work?”

The corners of his lips lifted as you acknowledged thinking this through. “We would just… enjoy ourselves. Just when we’re here. Just when it’s the two of us.”

Enjoying yourself with Aaron Hotchner definitely wasn’t how you’d imagined this night going.

You stayed quiet, thinking it over. After a moment you slowly nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, waiting for confirmation.

“Yes. I am,” you responded, the words coming easier now.

You licked your lips nervously as he moved closer to you. His cologne enveloped you, making your pulse quicken.

As he continued gazing into your eyes, you decided it was your turn to make the next move. Carefully, you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble against the palm of your hand. A small prayer passed through your mind, hoping you wouldn’t regret your next decision.

Then you kissed him.

The moment his lips met yours, the cliché of “fireworks” suddenly made sense—the feeling was intense, electric, a rush that left you breathless. His hands moved to the sides of your waist, pulling you closer. Before you could think, you were settled on his lap, the world around you narrowing to the heat of his touch.

A small, desperate whimper escaped you as his tongue brushed against yours. It had been so long since someone touched you this way—especially someone as strong and attractive as Aaron. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips as your hand slid over his chest, the other wrapping around his neck. He deepened the kiss, and the feeling was so overwhelming that it almost made you cry in relief.

He brushed his hands over the smooth curve of your waist and down the swell of your thighs, digging his fingers into the clothed skin.

Your soft moans were swallowed by your kisses, and you couldn’t help yourself as you moved your hips against his, feeling yourself get more aroused with each movement against the thin fabric of his slacks.

He let out a low grunt as you repeatedly rolled your hips against the hardening bulge in his pants. His large hands roamed up beneath your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You placed your hands over his, ready to take your shirt off, but just as quickly his hands closed around your wrists, stopping you gently.

“Not here,” he warned. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”

His words sent a rush of desire to your core, and though your legs trembled, you stood from his lap and followed him across the room. As he moved, Hotch unbuckled his belt with one swift, effortless motion. You paused mid-step, breath catching at the sight of the leather coiled in his hand, hypnotised by how seductive the image looked. You blinked a couple of times to get out of your trance, before hurrying after him, your legs trying to catch up to his confident pace.

You stepped into the bedroom, moving until you stood at the foot of the bed as he locked the door behind you. A flutter of nerves stirred in your stomach at the reality of what was about to happen.

Hotch walked toward you, slowly closing the distance. His eyes were dark as they took you in with a look of pure lust—one you’d previously never seen on him.

“Turn around for me.”

Maybe it was because you were so accustomed to his authority in the field, or perhaps it was the undeniable fact that you'd let him do anything to you at this point, but without a second thought, you obeyed, turning your back toward him.

His hands reached out to rub over your shoulders in slow circles. You instinctively leaned into him, your eyes closing as you let yourself melt into the comfort of his touch. He presses in closer, his chin resting against your shoulder.

“What is it that you’ve been longing for?” His voice is a soft, sensual whisper, his breath warm against your skin.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands delicately trail over your collarbones, carefully moving lower, inching toward your breasts. The moment his palms cup them, your nipples harden.

He hummed, still awaiting a response.

“You,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible through the thick need.

You feel the faint curve of a teasing smile against your skin. “You already have me,” he murmured. “Tell me how I can make you feel good.”

His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you arch your back into him, feeling the solid press of his body against yours, the hardness in his pants meeting you once again.

“It’s been a while since-” your words dissolve into a moan as his fingers pinch your nipples.

“Since what?” he teased, his lips tracing the curve of your neck, each kiss setting your skin alight.

You swallowed. “Since… since someone’s gone down on me.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, the sound rich with interest. His tongue slides up your neck, before turning it into a kiss.

“Aaron, please,” you begged, grinding your hips into him.

“How can someone like you have been deprived of pleasure for so long?” he thought out loud, and he finally grabbed the material of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

His hands glide softly over your back, before he unclasps your bra with one smooth motion. Your breasts spill free, and he immediately cups them in his hands, holding them as if he wants to keep you warm and covered. The pleasure is even more delicious now that the contact is skin-to-skin.

His hands roam over your stomach, until he reaches the button of your pants, undoing it. He sinks to his knees behind you, his fingers curling around the waistband of your pants and panties, easing them down. A low curse escapes him as the fabric slides over your ass and down your thighs, revealing more of you inch by inch.

You held onto his shoulder for support, as he steadied your leg, guiding you to step out of your pants. The second he tossed the fabric to the side, he placed his hands steadily on your thighs, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your ass. You let out a moan, bucking forward, but he holds you firmly in place as his lips trail wet, lingering kisses over your cheeks.

“Place your knee on the bed for me,” he tenderly instructs.

You followed his order, lifting one knee onto the bed, your upper body arching slightly as it hovers just above the mattress. The cool air brushes over your exposed pussy as you’re displayed in front of him.

A loud moan leaves your mouth, as his tongue makes contact with your folds. The pressure is just right, each flick of his tongue drawing a sharp gasp from you as he licks up and down in a deliberate rhythm.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through you as he speaks, “dripping down your thighs already.” His lips trail lower, and he laps up the wetness that has gathered on your inner thighs, his stubble tickling against your sensitive skin. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to.

Aaron’s tongue returns to your pussy, the tip of it firmly pushing inside, curling upward as he slides in and out, hitting all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each thrust makes you cry out.

You let out a small whine as his tongue retreats, pressing a delicate kiss to the tender skin. “Don’t get me wrong,” he starts, licking his lips clean, “I love hearing you, but you can’t be too loud.”

You silently nodded, your breath hitching as his finger unhurriedly traced your sensitive folds. Just as he was about to enter you, you stopped him.

“I- I need your cock,” you whined, your hips pushing back toward him, desperate for more.

“Yeah? You need it that bad?” he teased, as he rose to his feet behind you.

You crawled onto the bed, glancing back at him. His lips still glistened with the trace of you, and his eyes were locked onto yours, filled with predatory focus.

“I need it, Aaron,” you repeated, biting your bottom lip as your gaze lingered on the hard outline of his length pressed against his thigh.

He groaned, his hands quickly pulling at his tie, tossing it aside before he began unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were confident—like a private performance just for you. You leaned back on your arms, your feet planted on the bed, allowing him to see just how much he was making you ache for him.

As he removed his shirt, the muscles in his broad shoulder flexed, and the trail of dark hair down his stomach led your eyes straight to what you craved.

He wasn’t shy as he pulled his pants down, eager to show you just how worked up you’d made him. His length stood hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum. You instinctively pressed your thighs together, giving you a soft release of tension.

He joined you on the bed, lying on his side and pulling you flush against his chest, spooning you. His lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his groans vibrating against your mouth. His hand explored your front, squeezing your breasts, while his arousal pressed insistently against your ass.

You moaned, your leg draping over his as you shifted, opening yourself up to him. He reached down, gripping his length, positioning it against you before slowly pushing inside, stretching you inch by inch.

You took a sharp breath, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. His cock throbbed, as if begging for you to move. Slowly, you rolled your hips, taking more of him in, and Hotch’s low growl rumbled in your ear.

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with pleasure. “Taking me so well.”

He was fully inside you now, filling you completely, and his hand slid down to your exposed clit, his fingers moving in slow, rhythmic circles. His thrusts matched the pace, deep and deliberate.

Every movement sent shockwaves through your body, your breath quickening as the familiar knot of pleasure tightened in your stomach.

“I’m close, Aaron,” you whimpered, and he moaned in response, placing soft kisses along your jaw before sucking at your neck, marking you.

His fingers moved faster, pushing you closer to the edge, and your body twitched as your orgasm crashed over you. His arms held you tight, anchoring you as the sensations slowly subsided.

When he withdrew his hand from your clit, it slid down to your knee, bending your leg to spread you even wider. Without warning, he began pounding into you, the sudden change in speed making you cry out, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips.

“Be quiet for me. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warned. You involuntarily moaned at the way he commanded you, and he grunted in response.

With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, your body pressed flat against the bed. A sharp gasp escaped you as he grabbed your thighs, lifting them to raise your ass in the air, before entering you again.

One hand pressed firmly into your shoulder, holding you down, while the other gripped your hips, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts. The new position did its job—your moans were muffled into the pillow, leaving only the wet slap of skin and the sound of Hotch’s deep, guttural grunts with each push of his hips.

“They're so stupid for not wanting you,” he groaned. “You have me now. I’ll give you everything you want.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. After feeling this, you knew you wouldn’t ever be satisfied by anyone else. You would want no one but him.

“I’m going to come inside of you,” he breathed, bending over so his chest pressed against your back, his warmth enveloping you.

“Oh-“ Your breath caught as the sensation in your core tightened again. “Yes, please. Inside of me, please.” You couldn’t form a full sentence as the heat inside of your core builds up again.

He reaches under you to touch your clit, and the instant his fingers make contact, you come undone. Your legs tremble, giving way beneath you as the rush of pleasure takes over. Hotch pushes into you two more times before you feel him spill inside, the sensation sending you into another, deeper orgasm.

He presses soft, tender kisses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “I’m sorry I got a little carried away.”

You hum in satisfaction, a pleased smile tugging at your lips. “I’m glad you did.”

—

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you had a quick shower together—Hotch giving you one more orgasm—and were now laying in bed, your clean bodies tangled under his sheets.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as he held you close.

It was endearing how gentle and shy he sounded, a stark contrast to what the two of you had just shared.

“Only if you promise to not move to the couch,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You turned your head to him, noticing the quiet that had settled between you both.

“What is it?” you asked, tracing absent patterns to his skin.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I was thinking… maybe we can attach those strings a bit more.”

You chuckled. “Maybe,” you playfully teased, pressing a final kiss to his lips.

[fahye]

book recs: june 2024

it's been a weird few months of swinging wildly between mood reading of new things and needing to reread old favourites. all of these were new-to-me, and * means I read an ARC so they're not out yet BUT keep your eyes peeled/preorder if you like the sound of them.

SOMEONE YOU CAN BUILD A NEST IN by john wiswell - sapphic monster romance but make it asexual rep (woo!) between a protagonist who is usually a ball of shapeshifting goo, and a woman whose awful family is trying to hunt down the shapeshifting monster. it's both delightfully gruesome and a sweet, angry story about two hurt people finding and saving one another. this book deserves to become tumblr-famous.

LORD OF SCOUNDRELS by loretta chase - an absolute platinum-level classic in regency romance history, and for good reason. jessica trent: best heroine to ever appear on the page. wild hijinks, superb feelings, jessica can we please be best friends so you can teach me all about your antiques dealership.

THE SAINT OF BRIGHT DOORS by vajra chandrasekera - everyone describes this as 'impossible to describe' and they're right. truly original urban-ish fantasy about the oppression of underclasses, magic, identity, the inconvenience of being prophesied to kill your father, and a support group for failed messiahs. it's splendid and will stretch your mind like a muscle.

ALL THE SINNERS BLEED - by s.a. cosby - a contemporary crime thriller about a black sheriff in the american south trying to catch a serial killer in the face of systemic racism and obstruction. dark themes, wonderfully written, extremely gripping: I read it in a day.

THE UNDERHISTORY by kaaron warren - an elderly woman running tours of her infamously 'haunted' family home is confronted with a group of dangerous escaped killers looking for somewhere to hide. half slowburn crime horror and half a fantastic, meandering exploration of one person's history. you all know I love a vaguely fucked-up house, and this one comes with an older protagonist hiding secrets of her own.

THE DEATH OF VIVEK OJI by akwaeke emezi - there's a new emezi book coming out soon so I finally let myself read this one! a brief, bittersweet slap of a novel about gender and sexuality and family and longing, told in emezi's uniquely electrifying prose style. I wish I could write like this.

THE FRIEND ZONE EXPERIMENT* by zen cho - zen's first contemporary romance! inspired by kdrama tropes! a hardworking singaporean entrepreneur heroine in london! I enjoyed the romance itself but even more I enjoyed watching renee fight to prove herself in the face of various terrible men.

THE FORMIDABLE MISS CASSIDY* by meihan boey - if susan sto helit is your favourite discworld character, you will love the hell out of this. no-nonsense magical governess deals with folklore monsters and social drama in 19th century singapore. lively and heaps of fun. I wish it was an episodic buffy-esque tv show.

THE PAIRING* by casey mcquiston - two exes accidentally reunite on a food & wine tour of europe for the sluttiest and most self-indulgent bisexual summer ever. food porn, drinks porn, european scenery porn, feelings porn, porn-porn: this is a book that is 95% Various Vibes and Porn and if that sounds like your kind of thing, you'll love it. warning: will make you very hungry.

[dreamingofbucky]

THE REPORT

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!F!Reader (one shot)

summary: You failed to report to Miguel after a mission and he makes it a living hell for you. to teach you a lesson, he makes you meet him after everyone's gone home and has a special punishment just for you.

tags/content warnings: slow burn til it isn't, grumpy!miguel, cockwarming like that's the whole plot, consensual smut. p in v. fangs. praise kink, size kink. age gap (reader is 20, mig is almost 30 idk). reader is a sister figure to gwen.

Word Count: 6.1k

author’s note: not beta read. this was so fun to write! hope you enjoy <3

-

Living in Spider Society was chaotic, but you loved it. You enjoyed it so much, but there were times you liked to visit other universes and even your own. You haven’t been back to your own universe in months due to work though. 

You’ve been to Gwen and Hobie’s ones countless times, even stayed multiple nights. Albeit you being a few years older than them, about to turn 21, they were your closest friends in Spider Society. They got your humor, they understood your mess, and they’d fight for you. 

With Jessica Drew being older and busy with her own relationship, and then Peter B Parker with MJ and Mayday, you were glad you had these Spiderteens to hang with. You felt like an older sister to them sometimes which helped with the whole identity crisis you had the first month moving to Earth-928 and feeling so alone. 

And then there was Miguel. He was technically your boss and he was so cold, so standoffish toward you. Even after he recruited you, you’ve seen him less and less around missions unless you had to go to his office to report any difficulties with anomalies. You felt miniscule under his gaze most times. But then… even as much as you hated to admit how he made you feel though at random times when you felt his gaze linger a little longer than normal. 

It’s probably been a week since the last time you had to go up to his office to relay a report, yet the grumpy man’s eyes were everywhere in Earth-928. You felt his eyes everywhere. Your spider senses went haywire whenever you felt him near. But it was more than just a tingle to you. It was a strange feeling you couldn’t pin down. But you brushed it off anytime that specific feeling came around. 

You did have some hard times though in this new universe you called home. You had your own Peter back in your own universe until he passed. It was your canon event, after all. Something you still hated thinking about. 

It was hard at first acclimating to Spider Society seeing so many Peter Parkers. Yours wasn’t Spider-Man, since you were the one in your universe, but the name was hard to adjust to hearing all the time, every day at work. That was the one thing you and Gwen had in common which was why you both were glued to the hip most of the time like real sisters. 

Some might say it’s just trauma bonding, but you did ultimately feel like Gwen was like a younger sibling to you at this point. And no one really understood the hard adjustment to Spider Society like she did. It was comforting. 

“You’re thinking again,” Gwen says, pulling you out of your thoughts. Her pink-blonde hair fell in front of her face as she busied herself with a journal. She liked to journal a lot more recently ever since she’s been spending more time with Miles. 

You remembered her mentioning when she saw him after a year apart that she found his own journal of doodles. It was so obvious the crush she had on him, but you didn’t push or ask any questions. 

A smile comes to your face as you see her doodling nonsense. You couldn’t admit that she wasn’t the best artist, but you let her have her vice whenever Miles was busy and off on different missions or even back in his universe to finish school. His parents still didn’t know he was Spider-Man, so he wasn’t around Spider Society as often as Gwen would like. 

“No,” you counter. “Just letting my mind rest. Had a long week.” 

Gwen’s bright eyes drifted up from the journal before a smile etched on her face. “Did you send your latest report to Miguel yet?” 

Your spine stiffened at the sound of his name. “No, why? Was I supposed to? I thought Hobie was in charge of that this week?” 

Sometimes Gwen, Hobie, and you would rock-paper-scissors whoever did the reports for the week. This week was supposed to be Hobie’s. 

Gwen shakes her head. “No, I clearly remember Hobie mentioning it’d be you. He’s not even around today.” 

“Oh,” you plainly stated. She was right, he wasn’t in this universe today. Had some protest to join back in his own universe. He invited you and Gwen, but you both wanted to be around in case you were needed. You urged Gwen to even spend the day with Miles, but he apparently had something to do with his parents. 

Gwen whistles. “Miguel is gonna be looking for you then.”

Your eyes widened at that. “Fuck, no he can’t. I didn’t even prepare anything! We went two days ago, how am I supposed to remember each detail of what we did? Fuck, I’m going to find Hobie and–” 

“Chill!” Gwen laughs. “Just go see him and let him know. Hey, maybe bringing an empanada will lessen the blow.” 

You rolled your eyes at that before standing up. The room you both were in was quiet and not many spider-people were around. Gwen and you liked to come in here to either debrief, talk about Miles, or just sit in silence while she doodled and you thought. 

You cherished her, you cherished every one of your spider friends. Well, except now with Hobie. Because now you’re for sure going to get a scolding from the boss man. 

“Good luck,” Gwen sing-songed as you shook your head and laughed. But inside you were dying, your heart was starting to race as you left the room. You made your way through the building until you got to the elevator. The ride up was short and you even forgot the empanada. 

Your fingers laced together at the front as the doors opened and you walked on the floor where his office was. It was unusually quiet. And darker than normal.

There wasn’t any big anomaly that had to be contained today or else you’d know. So where was everyone?

By the time you reached his office, you craned your neck up to see his platform high up and he was there standing, staring at a screen. He hadn’t noticed you yet, due to his inability to have spider senses, and you take your time looking at him. 

His broad shoulders were facing you and you noticed his hands on his slim waist. You lick your lips at the sight. It wasn’t something you were proud of. 

Call it hormones. You closed yourself off to any romantic flings or relationships the moment you moved here, but you still had those urges. 

And they so happened to heighten whenever you were around the one person you shouldn’t have those urges around. Your attraction to your boss wasn’t something you expected, especially with him being a few years older than you… okay, he was definitely older. He never mentioned his age, but you overhead he was probably closer to 30. Which made him almost a decade older than you. 

Your thoughts drift to a week ago when you saw him in passing. Spider-Woman was briefing you for a mission when he caught on to the conversation and halted his steps. He interrupted that conversation to scold you, letting Jess know that you wouldn’t be joining her that day. 

You didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like the anomaly wasn’t someone you couldn’t handle. But you had to follow his orders and ultimately stayed back while he and the other Spiders went. Even Gwen and Hobie went. 

That was a low blow on Miguel’s part. You’d at least thought he’d make the non-teens go on a mission together. You can’t remember the last time you went on a mission where Miguel was present. It felt like some days he didn’t even want you around. 

As you think about Miguel, you hear shuffling up above you and you blink, brushing away the thoughts and focusing on what you had to do. 

You shoot out a web to his platform and bring yourself up, landing on your feet. He finally turns at the noise and gives you a side-eye. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks. 

Your fingers find each other again as you fumble for a response. Here goes. “I-I had that report to tell you about. I thought Hobie was going to give it, sorry for the delay.” 

His shoulders rise and fall with each breath before he turns around. His hand goes in the air behind him, waving off the screens he was just looking at. You caught a glimpse of another universe and Spider people shooting webs. 

He had an eye on everything. 

“That was supposed to be given directly after you returned from it,” he scoffs. He takes a step toward you and you try to hold your ground. Your breathing increases and his lips twitch. 

“I know! Just a simple miscommunication, that’s all,” you try to laugh it off, but his stern face is anything but finding it funny. 

“Do you know what I think?” He simply asks. The hairs on your arms stand as you look at him. His eyes smooth over your face, looking all over. They stop for a brief moment a little lower, on your lips, for more than a second. 

“What do you think?” You ask breathlessly. 

He takes another step closer, now inches away. He’s so tall compared to you, he’s basically caging you in at this moment without even knowing. You gulp. 

“You’re supposed to be an example to them.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me,” he grimaces. “You’re older than them, yet you seem to act their age. It’s evident in the way you completely forgot to send in that report on time.” 

“It happened once! And by accident! Like I said, it was because–” 

“Take responsibility,” he spits. His hand goes to his hip and now you’re on the verge of hyperventilating. You didn’t expect a lecture when you came here. You expected Miguel to throw a fit, yelling at you, and then banishing you from his office within minutes. But you’re still here. 

“Okay, I will,” you finally state. You feel deflated from the conversation already and you’re starting to get impatient at his obvious anger. Or annoyance. He seemed to be either angry or annoyed by you everytime you’re around. 

“Okay, let’s hear it.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his elbows brushing against your chest in the process with how close he is. You take a deep breath. 

“I’m taking responsibility for not giving you the report on time. I apologize, boss.” 

He nods before turning on his heel and returning to his screen. You’re left confused and you even raise a brow at the odd reaction. 

“Don’t you want the report now?” You ask, kicking your heel at the ground. 

“No, not right now. I’m busy. Come back later.” 

“But I had plans with Gwen,” you start, but he snaps his neck back at you and his eyes glow red. You stop talking immediately. 

“Come. Back. Later.” He hisses, fangs showing. 

“Right, will do,” you stutter out before attempting to run off that platform. Your two left feet make you trip and fall, making you have to shoot out a web to catch yourself before you planted face first on the floor below. 

You didn’t dare to look up and see if Miguel saw that, you left as soon as your feet hit the ground. 

By the time you went to regroup with Gwen, she wasn’t where you left her. It took you a moment to walk around the building before you found her outside, sitting and staring at the scenery. You climbed the structure she was on, upside down, before shooting out webs to anchor you, and lowering yourself and sitting next to her. 

“How was it?” She asks, looking at you. 

“Not so well,” you confess. 

“Really? What happened?” Her eyes widen. 

You shrug. “Not much, actually. I apologized and took responsibility for not giving it to him on time.” 

“But? Your face looks like there’s a ‘but’ somewhere in there,” she laughs. You nudge her shoulder with yours and you frown. 

“Yeah, there’s a but. He didn’t want the report. Told me to go back later tonight to give it to him.” 

“That’s great!” Gwen smiles. 

“How’s that great?” You ask, raising a brow. You decide to look out in front of you both and see the vast city before you. Although you’re upside down, you never get tired of the view. 

“Because you have time to do the report and then give it to him, duh. You don’t have to verbally give it to him on the spot.” 

“I don’t know,” you finally breathe. You place your palms behind you and lean back. Gwen does the same, mimicking you. 

“You know, Jess mentioned that he’s a big softie under all that anger and macho-ness.” 

“What?” You laugh, wondering why the hell she’s steering the conversation this way. 

Gwen nods with a smile curling on the tips of her lips. “Yep. It kind of reminds me of those stupid sayings where if he makes fun of you, he likes you.” 

Your body stiffens and you shake your head. “Gwen! What are you talking about? Miguel?” 

There is nothing behind the reasons why he’s cold to you or why he’s made it seem like you aren’t worth being around. If he had any inkling of attraction toward you, you’d know. Spider sense or not. 

“See tonight, then! And please let me know. I kind of made a bet with Jess… I have to win.”

You groan. “What?! You guys are betting on the most impossible thing. There is nothing there. He hates me, but like actually. There is no underlying meaning.” 

“Sure,” Gwen laughs. “Anyways, Miles said he’s coming back tomorrow so we might have to raincheck on that girls night.” 

“I thought that was tonight?” 

“I figured we’d have to move it to tomorrow night the moment you mentioned Miguel needing to see you tonight. He’ll probably make you handwrite that damn report all night.” 

You lean your head back and stare at the city above you. “Fine, raincheck. But nothing is going on, you’ll see.” 

“Hmm,” is all Gwen says before you shake your head and laugh. You both stay watching the city in silence for a little longer before you go on with your day, dreading for the night to come. 

***

“Miguel?” You call out into the darkness of his office. His platform is dark, with no sign of life from him or anyone. 

Suddenly, you hear a fizzle in the air and then Lyla pops up into thin air. You almost yelp, hand flying to your chest. 

“Hey! Miguel let me know for you to meet him in his quarters.” Lyla floats around you, disappearing and reappearing at random spots. Her pink glasses lower on the bridge of her nose as she takes a good look at you. 

“His place?” You repeat, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. You’ve never been called to his quarters. He had a place of course in the city, but it was known that he’d stay multiple times a week at the floor of the building that acted as a penthouse for when he needed to be on call for anyone. 

You were terrified that you did something else wrong and that’s why he decided to have this meeting in a more private location. You gulp, looking at Lyla. 

“Don’t look so scared!” She laughs. “Come on!” She yells before disappearing and reappearing a few yards away closer to the elevator. 

You follow with no argument before you both get into the elevator and it skyrockets a few more floors up. The elevator dings and you see Miguel in normal clothes, not his suit. It didn’t occur to you that he can wear something else besides his suit. You’ve never seen him without the suit, so this was weird. 

Miguel hears your steps and he looks, a look of concern on his face. You instantly cross your arms over your chest, as if trying to hide yourself from his gaze. His eyes drift from your toes to your eyes before he looks at Lyla who appears in front of him. 

“She’s here, boss,” she sing-songs before Miguel grunts. 

“Thanks, Lyla. Now pause all updates unless it’s an emergency. Forward any updates to Jessica if there are any.” 

“Only if you say it,” Lyla teases, twirling around Miguel’s body. 

Miguel groans, rolling his eyes. “Lyla, do it.” 

“Nuh uh, I need to hear it boss,” she pushes. This makes you giggle at the encounter but you shut your mouth as Miguel gives you a stern look. 

“Please, Lyla,” he finally says with a bite to his words. 

“Already done, boss, but I loved hearing that,” Lyla says before evaporating into thin air. The silence fills the room as you stand there, rocking back and forth on your heels. 

“Where’s your suit?” He finally asks, heading to the kitchen. You follow blindly, unsure what else to do. 

“I-uh, didn’t think I’d need it.” You looked down at your sweats and long sleeve, wondering if you should’ve looked more presentable. It was past dinnertime, way past that to be precise, the sky was dark outside his floor to ceiling windows, so it didn’t make sense to wear anything else. You wanted to feel cozy too. The softness of the clothes calmed you a bit with the anxiety of what Miguel might say. 

You tried to write the report earlier, but your mind was a mess. You’d have to apologize for that again you were sure of it. 

“You didn’t, just wanted to ask,” Miguel chuckles as he reaches inside his fridge and pulls out a water bottle. He turns to you and raises it, looking at you with a questionable face. You nod as he tosses you it and you open it, taking a few sips. You hear the crack of his own and his gulping. 

You didn’t realize how much of a cottonmouth you had until you started drinking the cold water. 

“So the report, do you have it?” He asks, heading toward you. 

“About that…” you start. His jaw clenches and his eyes go red for a moment before they go back to the pretty brown. 

“You didn’t do it?” 

You shake your head, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. “No, I-I tried to. I swear, I can do it right now, just let me get my computer or a pen and paper.” 

That’s when he laughs again. You’ve never heard him laugh before. It was like music to your ears. Your heart picks up its pace at the sound and the way his eyes crinkle at the motion. His teeth bare with the laugh and you notice the fangs popping out. 

An inappropriate thought of him sinking them into you comes to the forefront of your mind and you suck in your breath and clench your thighs together. He pinches his brows, looking at you at the sudden sound you swore he wouldn’t be able to hear. 

“Ven aquí,” he beckons as he waves you over to the other end of the place where a living room holds a few couches. The place isn’t decorated and it looks like it was just created as something to show, not live in. He sits on the edge of the couch and you walk over to him, keeping a few inches away. 

You can practically feel his body heat emanating and your body betrays you as your knees get wobbly and you have to clear your throat. You curse yourself for having these reactions toward your boss in his private place. 

Lyla couldn’t even interrupt you both as much as you’d like. You didn’t want to be scolded. You wanted to take the punishment of finishing the report in front of Miguel and then go home.

“Your heart is racing so fast,” he murmurs, causing you to gasp. Heat pools in your belly and your cheeks start to burn. He cocks his head to the side before sighing and running a hand through his hair. His biceps flex under his shirt and you bite your lip. 

“It’s just hot in here,” you lie, fanning yourself to prove a point. 

“The AC is on,” he counters. 

“Of course,” you squeak. You try so hard to lower your heart rate, but it’s not helping being so close to him. 

“Do you want to know what else I can observe?” He asks, looking up at you from beneath his lashes. Your ears are pounding as you intake a sharp breath. 

“What?” You whisper. 

He rises, getting close to you. He lifts a hand and traces a finger underneath your chin, causing you to tremble and your lips quiver. “I can smell the way your sweat is protruding. And it’s not from fear.” 

“Oh,” you whisper again. 

He bares his teeth, fangs glinting. “I can also smell you to the point where it’s driving me fucking crazy right now.” 

“Smell me? Like my sweat and my scent?” You raise a brow. You’re not sure where he’s getting at this. Is he trying to intimidate you? Cause it’s working. 

“I can smell your arousal,” he chuckles, getting closer to brush your chest with his body. You widen your eyes. 

“Oh, uh, I’m so sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say. You try to clench your thighs together, but that doesn’t help with the growing feeling between them. Your pussy is basically singing for him to touch it. You do your best to push down those thoughts, it’s utter humiliation that he can sense those things. 

His thumb brushes your bottom lip and your knees almost give out at the gentle touch. It’s all confusing you to the point where you’re not even sure this is happening. 

“You look confused,” he mutters. 

“I-uh, I’m not sure what’s going on. I thought I was going to be lectured. I thought you’d send me away to finish the report or something,” you admit. 

“You won’t be going on any missions anytime soon, how’s that for a lecture?” 

Your heart drops at this. “What? How is that fair? I’m not the only one who missed a report, I’m sure!” 

His hand drops from your face and you miss the feeling of it instantly. You stare at him and your anger is starting to increase. Scrunching your brows together, you exhale loudly. 

“It’s completely fair for the way it was handled.” 

It wasn’t wise for you to keep talking back to your boss, especially being alone with him. There wouldn’t be anyone around to save you if he started one of his rage arguments. 

“The report can be done now, how about that?” he finally breathes. He retreats back to the couch and leans back, thighs spreading. His frame is large and your eyes immediately go to his core and then his crotch. You gulp, knowing you shouldn’t be looking in that region. 

He says your name sternly and you look up before seeing a smirk pass his lips. 

You shake your head and straighten your posture. “Of course, boss. Where do you want me to do it?” You ask, looking around for a desk or maybe he wanted you to complete it on the kitchen island. You still needed a paper and pen or a computer. 

He makes a slapping sound and you turn toward it, seeing him slapping his thigh. You stare at him incredulously. 

“Miguel?” You whisper. His eyes are no longer the light brown you remember from moments before. They've gone a little darker and red is seeping into the sclera. You gulp. 

“Aquí,” he states firmly. You oblige, getting closer and bumping your knee with his before you stand in between his spread thighs. 

Your heart continues to race and you’re surprised you haven’t passed out from it. He pats his thighs again before he leans up for a moment, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you in so easily. He lifts you up like you weigh nothing before you’re straddling his thighs, legs on either side of his. 

It happens so quickly all you can do is gasp and then balance yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders. His very broad, strong shoulders. Your fingers clasp them tightly and you swallow. 

“Isn’t that better?” he whispers. You bite your lip, not sure how to respond. His hand lifts to brush your cheek before pushing strands of hair behind your ear. The movement is delicate and completely opposite of how Miguel holds himself in public. You’ve seen him swat a butterfly once that wasn’t even bothering him and his grumpy persona is all you know. 

“Tell me,” he demands. You part your lips. 

“Yes,” you finally admit. His hands move to your waist and press hard, enough for you to gasp. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and he hisses. 

“What are we doing?” You ask, courage finally bubbling out of your chest. 

“I’ve noticed things about you, reina,” he whispers, holding you tighter. 

“You have?” 

He nods. “The way you look at me. Your heart races when you’re near me. Your pussy craves my touch, I can smell it everytime.” 

“What? No, it’s not–” you scream but he pulls you closer on his thighs until your core brushes against his. You feel something right under your pussy and you realize it’s his erection. 

Your hips instinctively roll at the feeling and you groan, biting your lip. 

“See? You can’t deny the way your body is wanting me. I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it too. That I don’t feel the same way.” 

“Miguel,” you squirm underneath his hold but that only makes your hips roll even more into his erection and it sparks something in you. It feels so good and a moan leaves your lips. He grunts, fangs hitting his bottom lip for a moment. A slight red dot forms from the incision. 

“Besame,” he asks, smoothing his hands up to your torso, over your arms and then to your cheeks. You feel intoxicated from his touch. 

He wants you to kiss him. You can’t deny that, you’re already so far gone now. Without a delay, you nod and lean in, crashing your lips to his. A moan escapes your lips while a hiss leaves his. You feel a slight prick from his fangs and you gasp. 

“Sorry, reina,” he says, licking your bottom lip. 

You take a few deep breaths, lifting a hand from his shoulder to run it through his hair. You don’t do it gently, call it payback for the fang bite. But it only rouses him more, your fingers grasping harshly at his strands. He pulls you in then again to kiss you and then pushes his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with fervor and you let him. Your hips begin to roll over his erection and it hits the spot you need it to. 

“Take these off,” he slaps your ass and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your sweats. You nod before lifting yourself and he pulls them down. You shift awkwardly until your sweats are off and then you’re straddling him with just your panties. His calloused palms touch your thighs and he groans. 

“Fuck, your skin is so soft.” He murmurs before smoothing his hands over your thighs before moving to your panties. 

“Do you want me to take these off too?” 

He shakes his head, lifting a hand. You see a talon come out from his finger and he’s quick to cut the fabric of your panties. You gasp and he smiles. 

“Hey!” You yelp. 

“My turn,” he moves on, moving his hands to pull down his own pants. You have to lift yourself again, your panties falling from the motion. You watch as he slides his pants down enough until they’re past his knees. You finally look down and gasp, not expecting him to be bare underneath. No boxers, just his erected cock ready for you. A glint of pre-cum is at the tip and your mouth salivates at the thought. 

His hand goes to his cock and he starts to move it up and down. He hisses through the movements before he licks his hand and continues the motions. You widen your eyes. 

“Are you ready for your report?” He breaks your thoughts. 

You lock eyes with him. “T-the report? Right now?”

He nods. “Sit on my cock, reina, and give me the damn report.” 

Your cheeks burn and you look around the room, wondering if this is some kind of dream. You lift your hand to your other arm and pinch. It hurts, so you know you’re not dreaming. 

He’s still fisting his cock as he waits patiently. His eyes are redder than before and he licks his lips. 

“Miguel,” you whisper. 

“You’re so wet for me already, I know it,” he laughs. 

He wasn’t wrong, but your brain was turning into mush. You muster the courage to finally do as he says. You lift yourself enough to hover over his core and his hand moves from his cock to your pussy and you gasp from the feeling of his fingers running along your wet folds. 

“Fuck, you’re going to be a tight fit. But I can’t warm you up, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Wait, why?” 

“Another punishment, now sit on my cock before I change my mind about everything.” 

You didn’t want to know what else he planned for your punishment and you knew it wouldn’t be nearly as enticing as this. He’d probably make you work at the cafeteria or some shit. 

“Okay,” you meep, finally lowering yourself onto his tip. You hiss at the feeling of his wet tip entering you. 

“Come on, you got this,” he coos as his hands move to your waist to help lower you down. Inch by aching inch, you lower until you’re full of him. His girth practically splits you in half and you bite your lip, holding in a cry. 

“You’re so pretty like this, sitting on my lap with my cock stuffed inside you.” 

You let out a deep breath. “You’re so big, Miguel, I need a moment.” 

“Take your time, you’re not leaving anytime soon.” 

Your heart skips a beat at that thought. It takes a moment for you to adjust to his length before you’re ready to roll your hips. It feels like the world has flipped upside down and you’re in heaven. Sparks run all along your spine and throughout your body. 

His cock twitches inside you and you start to roll your hips, closing your eyes. 

“Open your eyes,” he demands. You whip them open and stare at him. Your hands dig into his shoulders again as you roll your hips again, causing him to groan and tighten his hold on your waist. 

“Now, the report,” he repeats. 

“Oh, yeah, uh–” you mumble out. Your mind can’t concentrate on that damn report as your pussy clenches around his cock. He stills your movements. 

“We can only continue if you start talking,” he says. 

That’s when you realize what he’s doing. He’s not going to take you off his lap until you’re done with the report. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to handle that. Your orgasm is already rising to its peak with the small movements. He’s so big, hitting your g-spot perfectly. Each roll of your hips sends you closer and closer to your release. 

“Okay, well,” you start. “Hobie and I were able to handle the Vulture from Earth-673. It was good and–ah–we got him contained.” You say, biting your lip to keep from coming. 

“And?” Miguel presses, lifting his own hips to drive his cock a little more into you. An exasperated pant leaves your mouth at this. He’s cruel. 

“And that was it, that was all we did. Nothing else happened,” you mumbled out quickly. 

“That’s not what I saw on the screens,” he hums. He moves a hand to roam down between your cores. His thumb presses gently against your clit and you clench his cock before whimpering. 

“Miguel!” 

“What else happened?” 

You try so hard to think back to the mission that happened days ago. You curse Hobie for not sending the report or reminding you that you had to do it. 

That’s when you remember something. You smile. “Gwen was handling that train cart that fell off the platform and then Hobie and I focused on the people on the ground. We got them all.” 

“And what else?” Miguel starts to circle his thumb over your clit at a faster pace. You groan and hang your head back. His movements stop. 

“Miguel, please,” you squirm, trying to get back that friction against your clit by rubbing yourself over his abdomen. He hisses and shakes his head. 

“You forgot about the canon event you didn’t stop,” he reminded you. 

That didn’t seem like important information to tell him. You all worked hard to prevent canon disruptions. It was an obvious task that didn’t need to be vocalized. He raises a brow. You take a deep breath and nod. 

“Y-yeah,” you mumble. “We allowed the canon event to happen successfully.” 

“Good girl,” Miguel coos before placing his thumb back on your clit and his other hand grasps your waist tight enough and he lifts you enough to slam you back down on his cock. You scream, falling on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your hands bury in his long hair. 

“So good for me,” he whispers in your ear as you roll your hips some more, chasing that high. 

“I’m close,” you whine. You feel his lips graze your neck and before you know it, you feel pain and little stabs at your skin. His fangs sink into your skin and that only causes you to moan loudly and squeeze his cock even more. He grunts before removing his fangs from your neck. 

“You did so well for me, you can come whenever you want to, reina,” he whispers. And before you know it, both hands go to your waist and he’s lifting you up at an alarming pace and slamming you down on his cock. 

You’re both panting loudly, the only sounds in the room are your cores slapping and your pussy drenching him in your arousal. 

“Fuck! I’m going to come,” you whimper. 

“Come all over my cock, baby,” he stutters as his pace of slamming you down grows sloppy. You nod and lift your head to look at him. His eyes are less red and his features have seemed to go a little softer. 

Before you know it, you’re screaming and coming over his cock. He doesn’t stop though, he continues to jut into you until his hips still and his hands shake on your waist. You feel the warmth spread inside you and you know he just released inside you. 

“Fuck,” he sighs. 

You lay your forehead against his chest and his hands are soft to the touch as he rubs your bare back underneath your shirt. You shudder underneath his touch, but you try to calm your breathing. Your pussy clenches around his softening dick and he groans. 

“I can get off,” you whisper, attempting to lift your hips, but his hold on you tightens. 

“No, not yet.” 

“Why?” You giggle. You lift your head and you’re nose to nose with Miguel. His eyes dance around your face before he answers. 

“I think you need to repeat the report once more.” 

“What?!” You scowl. 

“I’ve got you here now, what’s the problem? You can’t repeat the same thing you just said? Or are you too cockdrunk to think of anything?” 

You didn’t want to tell him that he’s right. The last few minutes are a blur and the mission of a few days ago is at the back of your mind already. You whimper as his hands lower to your ass and squeezes. You try to lift your hips again, but he slams you back down on him. The friction only causes your arousal to rise again. 

Fuck, you’re never going to leave are you? 

His erection starts to grow again in you and he smiles like a jerk. 

“The report, repeat it. If you stumble once, you’re starting over. I have all night.” 

You roll your hips, fully drowning in him and obeying his every command. You’re too far gone at this point to fight. 

You nod, biting your lip before starting the report again. You mumble a few times and you curse yourself as he takes a moment to lift you and slam you on his cock a few times. You scream his name relentlessly before having to start the report over again. 

You don’t get off his lap until the sun peeks from the horizon and filters through the penthouse. 

[hotchtits]

go on bby. talk about hotch. as much as you want ill read it all

*kisses you on the mouth sloppy style*

How I feel about this character

AAARGSHHSIDK AA AAAJDJEJ AHHHDJSJSJ

uh i mean he’s cool i guess.

no all jokes aside there are very few characters that are doing it like him.

he’s the leader of one of the most elite teams in the FBI. he’s a wet cat. he’s the epitome of traditional heterosexuality. he’s a boy kisser. he’s cold and distant. he loves his team more than anything in the world. he’s the next best profiler after gideon. he’s a massive idiot and a dork who collects coins. he’s got the skill level of a sniper/marksman. he does most of his team's paperwork so they can focus in the field. he’s no nonsense and straight laced. he seriously considered using web shooters at the FBI. he frequently catches an attitude with his boss, bigoted cops, and generally people in higher positions of power than him (and they just kind of take it). he has enough connections to get the italian government to revoke diplomatic immunity of a vatican priest. he's on a first name basis with the attorney general. he's kind of (at first) an absent father. he's a single mother of 6. he killed a man with his bare hands. he's so unbelievably gentle. he’s a white guy in a basic ass suit. he serves unprecedented levels of cunt.

what i keep coming back to is how much he cares. he cares about victims, he cares about unsubs (the ones that had justifiable reasons for being the way they are), more than anything he cares about his team.

the lengths he goes to to protect them or even just let them know he's there for them. he doesn't raise his voice, even when he's furious and when they lash out at him, he just absorbs it. aaaaaaugh. even roy, who hates his guts, he still cares about and still tries to make nice with for the sake of his son still having a grandparent in his life.

long story short i love aaron hotchner for all of his fucked up ways, big wet eyes, and self sacrificing demeanor.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

am i insane for saying the whole team? poly bau has a special place in my heart. i think he should get to have several boyfriends and several girlfriends. and his boyfriends are boyfriends and his girlfriends are girlfriends and they're all just happy.

hotch x happiness thats actually my favorite ship.

i mainly go for hotchgan, though, they make me want to rip my hair out. their push and pull, their similarities, hotch's head vs morgan's heart. kill me please.

i feel like him and rossi couldve also had a thing back in the preshow days. they give The Subway by chappell roan when he comes back in season three there is nothing casual about them.

hotchley before the divorce was so sweet :( i have such mixed feelings though because i can see how both of them would be frustrated with the other.

john blackwolf gets to be here as a treat because i think they would be absolutely destroy a buddy cop comedy thats actually a slowburn enemies to lovers. im aware this is just the plot of The Tribe.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

jessica brooks. im being so serious she stepped up in a way that very few others did. her offering to look after jack after hailey dies, staying with him when hotch gets called away, defending him against roy. also their banter is wonderful they r sooo siblings to me.

him and garcia are a very close second. obviously her and morgan are It but we gotta start putting some respect on him and garcia because

“i know you see the best in people, and i’d never want you to change that”

and the way she stayed with him when he collapsed in s9 aaarggh.

also hotchniss but as a wlw/bisexual friendship. they both agree that hotch has awful taste in men and that emily is a useless lesbian.

My unpopular opinion about this character

i mentioned this in someone else’s ask about unpopular HCs but i dont think he’s this #daddydom character in bed that people write him as. (disclaimer, headcanons are headcanons and im not bashing them, this is just what i think)

i can see him being dominant in bed (tho im a sub!hotch truther) but i dont think he’d go in for sadism or degrading or anything like that. given his childhood abuse, i cant imagine he’d enjoy hitting his partner or making them cry (even if it is consensual). in the show, he's very overtly gentle, especially with the people he loves.

i also dont think he’d enjoy a big age gap relationship with a subordinate either (i also see this being floated around). my man is a stickler for the rules and if theres a fraternization policy, i doubt he’d break it. im aware i sound like a massive hypocrite bc i ship him w the team but im mainly talking about x reader pairings here.

i was actually gonna put a different headcanon here but i saw a stepdad!hotch x reader fic and i,,, just,,, no. again write whatever you want but he Would Not Fucking Do That lmao.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

PISSED BEYOND BELIEF WE NEVER GOT AN “AARON” EPISODE

i guess 100 was kind of in the same vein but Reid got both “Revelations” and “Spencer” so i think we deserved an “Aaron”

for the love of god expand on his backstory. he was sent off to boarding school, he was a lawyer, a federal prosecutor, he was on SWAT, he's an accomplished sniper, he was with the BAU for something like 8 years before the show started i think. where is he finding the time for this?

[whatwouldsylwrite]

At least I got you in my head (3)

(2.5)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: gay yearning, homoerotic friendship, injuries, jokes about reader being weak but it's a comparison of average human/mma fighter. Abby is stupid, and they're both so delusional with "we're just friends" I feel like I need to write parallel povs with them so you'd see what the other actually felt.

Taglist: @abbyily @lillysbigwilly @gravygranules @blairfox04 @frogtits1 @ccinnamongrl (if you want me to tag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

October rolled around and you felt like both of you finally got completely comfortable with each other. You spent a lot of time together when you both were at home and you made plans for weekends and free evenings, so your friendship was flourishing. Your stupid, unnecessary, nonsensical crush was flourishing too. You were pressing all your feelings down as best as you could, but when Abby laughed at your jokes your heart swelled with affection and even if you scolded yourself it didn’t work. 

You needed a better way of getting over Abby. (some would say you needed to concentrate on Abby’s flaws - stubborn, leaves cups everywhere, has a hard time admitting she is wrong - but you’ve been down this road before, and it didn’t work, fuck you Jessica).

Sometimes you’d feel like you had a chance - when Abby hugged you tight or blushed when you flirted with her or when she affectionately called you a shrimp because you were hunching over in your chair while you were doing your homework. You’d have to snap yourself out of your delusions because you couldn’t afford getting your hopes up, and the constant reminders in your head actually worked. If you couldn’t get over Abby at least you could contain it at the level you weren’t hurting. You’d take that.  

You turned your key in the lock and opened the door to your apartment just to be surprised when you saw the lights on: usually when you came home Abby wasn't there yet. You felt somewhere between worried and curious why Abby was home early. 

You took your coat and shoes off and went to find Abby to check on her; you saw the light in the bathroom and the door was open, so you approached carefully in case she was naked. 

"Abby?"

"Oh! Hi." Abby said and something clank on the sink. 

"Can I come in?" 

“Yeah.”

You walked into the doorway and gasped when you saw Abby’s face. You came closer immediately, looking at her face with worry. She had a bruise on her cheekbone, her lower lip was swollen with a small cut in the corner of her mouth. 

“What the fuck, Abby?" You asked, for some reason trembling from worry. "What happened? Fuck, do you need to see a doctor?"

You held Abby by her neck, looking over her face, terrified and hurt from seeing Abby hurt. Who would do this? What kind of sick, violent asshole would attack Abby in the middle of the day? What did she even do to provoke such a response?

But Abby smiled, hissing from pain, and stroked your forearms.

"Hey." Abby said gently, soothing you. "Everything's fine. Wasn't paying attention during practice, caught some of the punches."

"Fuck, I forgot." You sighed, relieved. Abby was fighting for fucking fun, of course. "I thought someone attacked you."

Abby laughed and kissed your forehead to soothe you, her lips soft on your skin. You felt your chest flutter, but the relief you felt was bigger - Abby was okay, she was safe and these injuries didn't come from someone's violence. 

"Are you cleaning them?" You nodded at her bruises.

"Yeah."

"I'll help you." You said firmly and made Abby sit on the edge of the bath, looking up to you, amused. "Don't look at me like that, I can't cope with people being hurt."

"You're too sensitive for your own good." Abby said kindly. 

"I care about you." You said quietly as you wiped the blood from the corner of her lip, and Abby stared at you. You heard her breath hitch - she was shocked. "What, you thought I didn't?"

"No-no. I know you care about me." Abby mumbled and looked somewhere over your shoulder, avoiding eye contact. You could understand that, being so close to someone would make some people feel awkward. "You're so gentle." She scoffed as if it offended her, because Abby was all about I can take it so don't go soft on me. 

"Exactly why I said I'd do this. You, idiot, like to tough it up and suffer." You narrowed your eyes playfully and slapped your hand on the sink. "Not on my watch."

"How many vine compilations have you watched, grandma?"

"Takes one to know one." You scoffed and looked over her cut. You turned around and looked for disinfectant in the cabinet; then you took a piece of cotton and held it under Abby's chin so you could rinse the cut without applying any pressure. This disinfectant didn't hurt, so you were pretty calm about rinsing with it. "Okay. Do you have any healing ointments or whatever you use when you get hurt?"

"Yeah. Over there. It's for the bruise."

You nodded and gently applied the cream on Abby's cheekbone, your fingertips like feathers on her skin. Now Abby stared at you without hiding, looking at your face as if it was some kind of puzzle. She probably didn't even register that, so you didn't bring it up to her attention, not wanting to embarrass her.  

"Okay. I'm done." 

"Thanks." Abby said quietly and you smiled at her. 

"Be careful next time. I thought you have gloves for a reason. How did you even get your lip cut?"

"I don't know, It just happened. The punch wasn't even that strong." Abby rolled her eyes and some part of you wanted to laugh because she was cute, but the other part reminded you that Abby was big and strong and actually fucking dangerous. 

Yeah, she was cute when she scrunched her nose, but it was the way a lioness was cute. Little kitty from afar, but even the thought of it noticing you would make you hold your breath in fear. A lioness wasn't a kitty. A lioness was a killing machine that would overpower you and kill you in five minutes. This hit you in a way you wanted to press your thighs together - Abby was so much stronger than you just based on the fact she was a martial artist, and it made you feel things. 

Things you needed to press the fuck down and make yourself forget them. 

"Are you hungry?" Abby asked suddenly and you looked at her, surprised.

"Yes."

"I'll cook tonight." 

You raised your brows, surprised. 

"You know how?"

"Fuck you." Abby laughed and gently shoved you out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. "Just because you're my housewife it doesn't mean I can't cook."

You sat on the chair and watched Abby cook with a mock worry, teasing her that she'd poison you, but Abby didn't mind. You actually knew Abby was a good cook, judging by how well organised her kitchen was when you moved in, but you couldn't miss a chance to tease her. 

"Behave, (y/n). Or I won't feed you." Abby said sternly, but this little command caused a knee-jerk reaction, pressing your buttons in a delicious way. You took a small breath to calm down the sudden haze from her words and came back to reality. "Threatening works, huh?"

Threatening, yeah, of course. Threatening.

"I have a fight on Friday. Do you want to come?" Abby asked as she stirred the vegetables in the pan. "At five."

"Yeah, I do. I'm afraid I'll have a heart attack if I see you hurt, but anything to support you, babygirl." You winked and Abby laughed.

"There is going to be a party after the fight too."

"Cool."

You weren't sure if alcohol plus Abby's company was a good idea, especially since you'd get more sad that you wanted her, but couldn't have her. And drunk cuddles would definitely hit differently and in not a good way, because now you felt something. So right now - though you didn't admit it yet - you weren't planning on going to that party. That September outing was enough for you to understand you needed to protect your heart. 

You snapped out of your thoughts when Abby stopped and rolled her arm, hissing. You frowned in worry, and when she looked at you, she explained.

"My shoulder."

"Did you get hit there too?" You raised your brows.

"No, just sore. I tried to massage it, but I couldn't reach it." 

"I can massage it for you later, if you want." You said before you could even process the implications of your words. You said that on pure instinct "people say I'm good at massages and Abby needs help", but if she'd agree it'd mean you'd touch her. 

Like. Naked back and everything. Shit. 

"Oh, you're so fucking nice, (y/n)." Abby cooed and you huffed. "Thank you."

"Feed me first." You said just as sternly as Abby said before, and she chuckled. 

"Or what, your weak little arms won't have any energy?" 

"The fuck." You asked, dramatically offended. "My arms are strong. No, don't even look at me like that, Anderson, I'm not arm wrestling you."

"Because you're weak as a noodle?"

That was definitely the payback for saying she'd poison you with her cooking. 

"You just want to feel that you're stronger than me, don't you?" 

"Come on, it will be fun." Abby said, now very into the idea of arm wrestling you. She wiped her hands and sat opposite of you, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes but put your elbow on the table. "Why do I even put up with your shit?"

"Because you love me, obviously." Abby rolled her eyes in return and your heart sank down in pain and came back in a matter of milliseconds. 

"I'm just nice." 

Abby wrapped her fingers around yours, delighted how your untrained hand was smaller than hers. Your hand was hot and dry, and your hold on her was strong - well, as strong as it could be for someone who occasionally went to gym. Your nails were short and neatly filed, you didn't wear nail polish. Abby suddenly remembered how Ellie explained to her why her nails were short with a shit-eating grin (for fucking, Abigail, for fucking) and even though it was funny then (yeah and nail polish is too gay, right?), it wasn't funny now, with you. 

Why the fuck she was so bothered you had a sex life? She wasn't in any position to police your life and especially your private life. She really needed to be a better person. 

"Ready?"

"If you break my hand you're paying for it."

"Ah, don't worry, my dad is a surgeon." 

Abby counted down from three and let you show your strength first to not demotivate you, but even like this she showed you you had no chance against her, because while you flexed all possible muscles in your arm, she was almost relaxed. 

"Yeah, you're a weak noodle." Abby said, smirking. 

"You're a noodle." You puffed as you tried your best to move Abby's hand, but Abby didn't bulge. "Come on, give up a little."

Abby laughed, but let you move her hand halfway down, and you looked ridiculously happy, even though you knew you were cheating. Abby thought about letting you win because you looked so pleased, but she wanted to destroy you way more. So when you almost got her hand all the way down, panting and puffing, Abby flexed her muscles and slammed your hand to the other side. She was gentle and didn't hit your hand on the table, relaxing her grip just the second before pressing your hand down fully. 

"Weak. Noodle." She said and you looked so angry she started laughing: it wasn't real anger, it was the playful one, and you honestly looked cute. "It's so fun to rile you up."

"First you humiliate me, then you poison me. I'm moving out." You said dramatically and Abby laughed again. 

"Well then how are you going to get Ellie to date you, hm?"

"Oh my god, Abby." You rolled your eyes again. "Gimme my food so my weak noodles could get some energy to knead your back."

Abby was absolutely delighted with how grumpy you were. It was the same when you played Mortal Kombat - riling you up was the biggest joy she had (after cuddling with you). You were so chill all the time, calm and confident like nothing could throw you off balance, and Abby liked seeing you crumble with childish anger, because it filled her with childish joy. 

You had your dinner and Abby rolled her eyes and called you a grandma when you mumbled something about poison again, but she saw how much you liked the food she made. Abby even started to reconsider if she actually hated cooking or she just needed to have someone to feed. Abby felt all warm when you said your thanks with a shy smile - something she never saw on your face before. Her stomach fluttered as she stared at you, searing your face into her heart. You were just adorable.

You washed the dishes and then asked Abby to lie down to fix her sore shoulder. You almost choked when she just took her shirt off and lied down on the bed, without any fucking warning. You felt your face heat up as you traced her muscles and her waist with your eyes, absorbing the sight in front of you. You could see how muscles moved under her skin as she adjusted her position on the bed, tucking her arms under the pillow, her shoulders showing these delicious curves around her biceps and triceps and whatever the fuck human arm was made of. The bruise on her cheek was getting purple and you felt your heart ache, sorry for someone as sweet as Abby to have this. 

"I'm not a professional, so I don't think I can fix the problem, but at least you'll relax. Are you okay if I sit on top of you?"

"Of course. Your back would get tired way too fast if you stay at my side, so take a seat."

"So forward, Abby." You chuckled and swung your leg over her ass so you could sit. You tried not to think how your legs stretched over her soft butt, how it would feel if you were flipped over and she was pressing you int- Stupid horny monkey brain. “Do you have a lotion somewhere?”

“Will hand cream work?”

“Yeah.”

Abby reached out for her drawer and handed you the hand cream while you respectfully didn’t look at her tits while she moved up, her naked chest showing from her sides. You squeezed the hand cream on Abby’s back, laughing at her surprised twitch, and got to work. You massaged the top of her shoulders and her neck first, listening to her soft pleased hums as you worked the tension out of her muscles. Then you moved to her shoulder blades and pressed your knuckles just under the right shoulder blade where you knew the sore muscle was. Abby let out a moan as you dragged your knuckles over the muscle and you opened your eyes wide, surprised. Fuck, Abby sounded delicious. 

“Fuck, right there.” Abby grunted and you repeated your movements, your ears tuned to her. Stupid, stupid horny monkey brain. “It feels so good.”

No. You refused to let her words get into your head. It wasn’t meant for you. It wasn't even sexual, what the fuck was wrong with you? 

"That's what she said." You murmured and Abby chuckled. 

"You have magic hands, fuck, do that again."

"You sure you're not my ex?" You teased. Abby didn't respond to that and you just continued massaging her back. 

After half an hour of you kneading Abby's back she was a putty and your hands were tired. You sat down next to her on the bed and watched her blissed out face. 

"Better?"

"I feel like I don't have bones anymore." Abby murmured into her pillow and you laughed quietly. "Thank you."

"You see where cooking dinner gets you." You poked her naked side, but Abby was too relaxed to twitch. "If you need my magic hands, just ask. I'm happy to help."

"You're too nice." 

"Why are you saying it like it's a bad thing?" 

"Just afraid someone would exploit you. Like, some idiot girl who won't appreciate you or something."

"Don't worry. I don't stay with people who don't care about me."

"I care about you, so stay with me." 

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at Abby: she always said this kind of shit that gave you hope. That maybe Abby was just in the closet. That maybe she felt something too. That maybe you just needed to make a move, be the brave one, and then you'd get to have her. Your intuition was constantly whispering to you that Abby wasn't straight, but you refused to listen, because a) it was wishful thinking and b) even if she wasn't, it was for her to figure out and no one deserved to be forced out of the closet. 

"Well I don't want to be homeless, so I am staying with you." You stroked her back affectionately. "You need to shower."

Abby groaned and you laughed, before leaving her room. You needed to breathe.

Abby sighed quietly, still basking in your touch. She might've joked you were weak, but in reality your hands were strong. And so soft. God, you were so soft it opened some unknown need in her. She was longing for your touch in a way it scared her. Sure, Abby was affectionate and enjoyed hugs and cuddles and sleepovers when she got to hold someone - with boys they always held her, but with girls she could be the one holding and protecting. But with you she felt like an addict, craving your touch and closure with actual fucking pain in her chest, the constant pull to be closer in any way possible. Abby never felt like that about anyone, and she didn't understand what it meant. Was she so touch-starved she was looking to get her needs filled by using the closest person she had? That was very selfish and Abby didn't like what kind of person she was becoming. She felt sick at the thought she was using you, the kindest person she knew, to escape her loneliness. 

Abby sat up on the bed and looked at herself in the mirror, not really liking what she saw there. It felt like any issues she had inside were now outside, an inevitable evidence of her deteriorating morals. Fuck, she was turning into an idiot girl who couldn't appreciate you. 

Abby touched her shoulder where your soft fingers were a few minutes ago. Why just your company and your jokes weren't enough? Why did she want more? She couldn't understand at all, she was missing something. (Yeah, probably her morals). But it scared her to such a degree she didn't even want to go there.

The knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. You didn't come inside, staying behind the door to give her privacy.

"Do you want to have some tea with me?" 

"Yeah."

And everything was back to normal.

[gurugirl]

https://www.tumblr.com/gurugirl/717253767497695232/loving-with-all-these-ideas-in-from-the-asks-l-im?source=share

imagine the surprise on jessica or another coworker's face if they saw them out or her coming to see him at the office and he is being all over her, i know he would go manic if anyone gave even the lightest judgemental look to her but he also would bring it up to her after when they are alone "such a little slut uh, acting all shy and cute around everyone but still fucked a married man without thinking twice and got all those gifts, my little whore..."

okay just gonna write this real quick...

**This is a little blurb to go with The Arrangement**

Took 30 minutes to write this 😬 Apologies for the lack of editing and proofreading. I should be doing other things but felt inspired? lol! Hope you enjoy :)

1905 words

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, degradation, slight exhibitionism

Y/n didn’t have a class that day so she spent part of her morning lounging in her silk pajamas, sipping on cold brew coffee, and working ahead on an assignment due on Friday. But she had the idea that she’d go and visit Harry at the office. Plus it’d be fun to see everyone again.

After taking a shower and picking out a cute outfit from their walk-in closet she called a taxi to take her downtown. She sent a quick text once she was on her way.

Headed to the office. See you soon xxx

She figured she’d meet him for lunch. Maybe he could get out of the building for a bit.

Harry was in a meeting when she texted him but he saw her note and smiled to himself. He didn’t need to worry about anything. He and his wife were done. Sean sold him his part of the company and shares so he wasn’t around. And if anyone even so much as dared look at Y/n with any kind of contempt he’d set the record straight. There were already whispers of his new relationship with Y/n. What Sean had done with his wife. The divorce Harry was in the middle of.

When she stepped into the front of the office the office receptionist jumped from her seat and greeted Y/n with a warm smile, “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Nothing to drink for me. I can wait out front until Harry’s done with his meeting,” she said as she gestured toward the sitting area.

“Nonsense. I’ll bring you to Mr. Styles’ office to wait there. It’s a nicer view anyway. I’m sure he’d prefer you there.”

Following the receptionist toward Harry’s office Y/n was stopped by Jessica, “Y/n! What are you doing here?”

Harry stepped out of the meeting just as Jessica and Y/n were speaking.

“Oh! Hi! I’m just here to say hi to everyone. Wanted to see Harry real quick. How have you been?”

Y/n really wanted to get the attention off of herself. She realized most people knew that she and Harry were a bit of a thing at this point. But she still felt shy about being so open with it.

“I’m well. So you’re here to see Harry, huh? How’s that going?”

Y/n looked down at her expensive shoes and then shrugged before looking back at Jessica, “It’s good. Yeah.” She smiled shyly.

Harry walked up behind them at that and grabbed Y/n’s hand and gently pulled at her, “Hi darling. Come with me to my office?” He looked at Y/n as he spoke before turning to speak to Jessica, “You don’t mind if I pull her away for a bit do you?”

“Not at all. Nice to see you, Y/n.”

The moment Harry had his office door closed and locked he grabbed his little girl by her hip and pulled her into him, “What are you doing here?” He put his hands into her hair gently running his finger through it.

“Just wanted to see you. Thought maybe I could get you out of the office for a little lunch,” she smiled sweetly.

“Oh, it’s food you want? Interesting…” he continued with his fingers in her hair, “Thought you came here to show off. Let everyone know who you belong to now.”

“Harry…” she spoke softly, “that’s not why I’m here. I just-“

“Looking so cute and innocent in front of everyone. Showing off all the gifts I’ve bought you,” he nudged at her ear with his thumb over the Cartier diamond earrings he’d bought her, “It’s because you want everyone to know you’re Daddy’s little slut. Isn’t that right?”

“I just wanted to see you. That’s all,” she grasped his hand and moved it up to her lips so she could kiss his fingers, “I just missed you a little today. Thought it would be fun to see you,” she spoke between kisses as she kept her eyes on him.

“Just wanted to see me… Well, here I am. And I’ve already eaten lunch. It’s 2 pm, little girl. I have a feeling you came here for a different kind of fun.”

She smirked and then lowered her gaze to his lips as she dropped his hand and put her arms over his shoulders, “Just missed you, Daddy.”

Harry grinned and gave in to kiss her lips finally. She tasted sweet and smelled delicious. And her cute new dress fit her perfectly. Harry held her out in his arms and looked down over her outfit, “I do have good taste, don’t I?”

Y/n nodded and giggled as she looked down over her dress. She hadn’t worn this one yet. It was a little short and her heels were a little high. She’d also purposely put on a skimpy thong in hopes of him pushing it to the side and touching her or fucking her even.

“You really have everyone fooled, you naughty girl. They think you’re so sweet and shy but really, you had an arrangement with a filthy rich married man who gave you his credit card and then you stole him from his wife and now look at you,” he put his hand around her throat and pushed her back toward the couch in his office, “Shacked up with me, taking all my money, getting fucked every night, and pampered to your heart's content. You’re not innocent.”

Her blood rushed to her extremities and her head began to feel light and floaty like she usually did around him. Her pussy clenched and she moaned at his words and how he squeezed her neck softly.

“Sit down.” He gestured to the couch behind her as he let go of her neck.

She complied, holding the bottom hem of her dress as she put her bottom onto the soft cushion.

Harry sat next to her and leaned back into the couch, “Undo my pants.” He said but when she hesitated he continued, “Come on. I haven’t got all day. I’m a busy man, Y/n.”

She turned her body toward him and began to undo his pants. Harry brought a hand to her chin and grasped it to move her face to look up at him, “Haven’t got time for pleasantries. I’ve got a meeting in,” he lifted his wrist and looked at his expensive watch, “25 minutes.”

Y/n nodded as she unzipped his pants and sat back to wait for his next instructions, “Bend over the arm of the couch, put your pussy on the corner there so you can rub your clit while I fuck you.”

Quickly she got up and draped her body over the arm of the couch, placing herself at the edge where she could get enough friction from the couch. But truly, she didn’t care if she came or not. She was only there to please him. To let him come and get off.

Harry lifted her dress up as he pulled himself out of his briefs and tsk’d at her, “Desperately wet already. Just as I suspected. You’re going to make a mess of my couch, aren’t you?”

Y/n turned her head to look at Harry as he hooked a finger into the flimsy material and pulled it to the side so he could look at her pussy, “I’m always wet for you, Daddy,” she spoke quietly with rounded eyes.

Harry grinned and nodded, “I know you are baby.”

Harry braced himself with one arm on the back of the couch as he pushed himself into her. They both gasped at the delicious feeling of being connected. Two bodies as one. Moving together, breathing one another in, deeply attached and intrinsically joined.

When he’d dipped in as far as his balls would allow Y/n let out a groan that was too loud so Harry used his free hand to cover her mouth as he continued to rail into her, “Shhh… thought you wanted to keep up the appearance of being innocent. Wouldn’t want anyone to know what kind of whore you are, getting fucked on the couch in my office right next to the break room. Anyone in there could have heard you. Is that what you want?” Harry panted his words as he worked himself into her, the couch began to lightly bang into the wall at his thrusts, “You want people to hear how good I give it to you? How hard I make you come?”

Y/n’s eyes were rolled into the back of her head. She was happy to be a hole for him to come in but his cock always felt so good inside of her. And the cloth of the arm of the couch pressed into her pelvis and clit just right. She was glad his hand was over her mouth because he was driving into her deeply and each time he bottomed out she grunted into his hand unintentionally.

Harry spoke quietly into her ear as he continued fucking her, his balls whacking into her flesh, the obscene sound of wet pussy being fucked and skin colliding in repeated cadence in time with the couch hitting the wall, “I bet they all have their ears pressed to the door right now. They can all hear you little pussy getting fucked hard. That’s what you wanted, Y/n? Wanted to show off how good your cunt gets pounded?”

Her gurgles were muffled and Harry’s palm was wet with her saliva. He could tell she was drooling. He could see how red her face was and that she had goosebumps on her skin. Her eyes were fluttering. She was about to come. Which was good because so was he and he had to get going. His guests would be meeting with him in his office and he knew there would be a bit of cleanup involved.

“Gonna come on Daddy’s cock again? Didn’t you just come on his cock this morning, baby? Fffuck, my little girl is so needy. Needs Daddy’s come inside of her, doesn’t she? Poor thing. Wants to get knocked up and keep me forever doesn’t she?”

Y/n moaned and her walls clenched Harry’s cock as her orgasm took over. Her limbs stiffened and she grasped onto the material of the couch. Yes. She wanted all of that. If she could keep him forever, make him give her babies, and then he’d have to keep her.

Harry hissed at how tight her pussy gripped him but he continued his thrusts until he began spurting into her, punching into her deeply so his come could coat her and fill her insides.

Y/n opened her eyes when Harry released his hand from over her mouth and put her panties back into place. He helped her up and kept her in his arms, kissing her temple, “Okay to walk out of here like you are? Or do need a minute?”

She gulped and wiped under her eyes with one hand as she clutched onto Harry’s arm with her other, “I just need to wipe my face and calm myself a little.”

“Whatever you need. I have a mirror behind the cabinet door if you need it.”

Y/n straightened herself out and waved her hands over her face to cool down a bit as Harry wiped up the couch and then got his laptop ready for the meeting.

“Okay. I’m good now,” she smiled as she picked up her purse from the coffee table.

Harry kissed her forehead, “See you tonight at home at 7.”

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @be-with-me-so-happily @ithinkimaslutforharry @millie-753 @theekyliepage @harryspirate @kathb59 @giabbyespejo-blog @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus

[dark-dragon-8]

Me writing a fic planner for my Supernatural fic series/AU and it slowly turning into a "try and keep as many of the characters you like and/or need for the plot to get where you want it to without it being too OOC and/or nonsensical all while still keeping your current ongoing plot relevant and have it make sense" challenge

Because ISTG people are dying 𝘸𝘢𝘺 too often in this show. I had to get creative with Sam's reactions and power limitations just to keep Crowley alive during that one scene Dean tried to kill him when they both first met him.

I had to give Sam a fucking aftershock from Dick Roman exploding so that he won't kill Crowley right then and there.

I know I'll need to find a way to keep Rowena and Charlie alive at some point in the future because they'll be killed off later on in the show and I can't have that.

I'll have to somehow keep Death alive (haha) too because I love him too much to let him go.

The only characters I plan on keeping dead so far are Bobby, Meg, John and everyone else who died in earlier seasons (besides maybe Jessica, but that's just because she's not as close to Sam in this AU)

Ellen and Jo will still be alive, though, since I'm not leaving the boys without a support system. Downside is that the two of them will be experiencing the death of their husband/father (respectively) all over again.

I'm keeping Balthazar alive too because I 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 Castiel to still have some sort of loyal subordinate/connection to Heaven.

At least Dean doesn't kill anyone (important), not yet at least (I just finished season 7) hopefully it stays that way because that man is pretty much the only one I don't have to keep on monitoring 24/7. He's honestly the most chill person in my fic when it comes to killing off plot devices, which is hilarious because I plan on making him a sadistic half demon that's kind of like the Antichrist once he gets the Mark of Cain (which was surprisingly the easiest plot twist I had to write, thanks to how I saw his demon self has been written, I swear he's the only one not killing everyone else around him just because).

I'm currently holding on by a thread of "Sam believing he's impure and therefore doesn't use his powers often" logic while also applying a good amount of "Sam uses his power in every single scenario in which he thinks Dean might be in danger" logic. It's a very stressful road and I swear to Chuck, if I didn't have an ending in mind, everyone would've been dead except for the (good) humans, and Sam would have been the culprit, maybe Castiel too, and Dean would've been surprisingly innocent (I know, it baffles me too).

I just realized, as I was writing this that maybe I just need Crowley to chill, but I can't write that because that would be character assassination of the highest degree (Crowley is a sassy drama queen and I'd rather die than take that away from him)

[eternal-love]

Welcome to my blog! My name is Ale and I mainly write for Austin Butler (his characters).

EDITS

SERIES:

AUSTIN AND ME (Austin Butler)

Summary: Cynthia believes that she will have a fairytale life besides Austin. She couldn’t be more wrong. As she faces the real difficulties of marriage and she understand how no one is perfect.

FAMILY TREE (Feyd Rautha)

Summary: After Lady Jessica betrayed the Bene Gesserit by giving Duke Leto a son, she tried to make amends with the sisterhood by giving them a daughter— Arya.

ONE-SHOTS

STAR (Peyton Leverett x reader)

Summary; You help Peyton out on his new film project, but things take a turn for the best once he discovers what you, his little star, could do.

PUBLIC RELATIONS (Austin Butler x reader)

Summary: Things haven’t been going well since the birth of your baby and PR is chasing you guys’ asses to make it work.

LOVER, YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN (Austin Butler x reader)

Summary: After their divorce, Austin and you find each other again. And you catch up.

GOOD MEN DIE TOO (Benny Cross x reader)

Summary: Danny finally gets to sit down with you and hear about Benny.

STRANGERS (Cowboy!Austin x reader)

Summary: If you talk to strangers, you’ll fall in love. You learned it the hard way.

PURE (Priest!Austin x reader)

Summary: The priest at church makes sure you sin, all because he thought you were an innocent lamb.

GIRLFRIEND (Sebastian Kydd x reader)

Summary: You and Sebastian get alone. You never liked how Carrie treated him anyways.

GASLIGHT (Austin Butler x reader)

Summary: Photos of him and a model go viral online. You confront him.

THE SMALLEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED (Austin Butler x reader)

Summary: You’re heavily pregnant and discover a horrible truth about your husband.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, PLEASE DONT CALL (Austin Butler x reader)

Summary: Austin never defended you against the hate comments about your body. Now he wanted you to forgive and forget.

VENUS (Austin!elvis x reader)

Summary: You and Elvis celebrate your first wedding anniversary.

SWEETHEART (Austin Butler x reader)

Summary: You and Austin play Elvis and Priscilla, and blow off some steam in the makeup trailer.

A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS (Austin Butler x reader)

Summary: Austin hates your Christmas parties, but he does like fucking you when the guests arrive.

LACY (Courtier!Austin x Queen!reader)

Summary: You are the Queen, and you take a liking for a young courtier.

ITS TOO LATE (Austin x reader)

Summary: Austin and you try to rekindle your marriage by going back to the place you grew up in.

[jessicas-pi]

HEY GUYS GUESS WHAT I GOT IN A COMMENT ON MY AO3 YESTERDAY

*riley poole voice* my evil plan is working...

[thealexandriaarchives]

'Oh I'm Really Dune-it Now!' Masterpost

Welcome to the blog, the usual mishmash of nonsense will continue but for anything I'm creating myself lately it will likely be for the Dune Fandom, mostly a hodgepodge of Villeneuve Movie & Book Canon.

If you want to opt-out of this, all my original posts related to Dune will be tagged #duneposting for blacklisting.

Finally, add me on twitter @montager7 & Discord as montager if you use either for fandom stuff. I'm trying to get a feel for the size & shape of the Dune fandom, I think we can get writing & art events going in hiatus!

My Live & Updated Fiefdom of Dune Creations:

Dune Meta Rants, AKA:

Dune Fandom, We Need to be Hornier About Fluids

The One Where I Scream About Sand and Balance in Dune's Rigged Fights

Brian Herbert's Bitchy Dune Messiah Intro

The One Where I Talk About Feyd-Rautha's Introductory Scene and How We Were Too Distracted By Rizz to See Trauma UPDATED: The DEFINITIVE Version With Duke Leto (2.0) (New)

(Optional Alternate Early Cut): (1.1) Where I Went Back & Had Even MORE Traumatic Realizations about Feyd-Rautha that later got validated somewhat by Villeneuve's interviews confirming he wanted the final fight to be a 'consummation' of what never was.

Hey Do You Guys Remember in the Book Paul Was Going to Let Gurney Halleck do War Crimes on Feyd-Rautha? (New)

Meta Coming Soon - Yell at Me in DMs:

Heavily Academically Source-Cited Essay on Why Blacking Feyd-Rautha's Teeth was a More Insane and Correct Decision than Even Villeneuve Could Have Probably Considered.

Pollution, Shaving, Hierarchy of Nobility, & Gendered Clothing on Giedi Prime

The Detailed Breakdown of Bullfighting Imagery & Metaphor in Villeneuve's Dune 1 & 2.

The Impassioned Defense of Why Villeneuve's Feyd-Rautha Actually Might Like Rabban, Siblings in Abusive Homes, the Relationship Therein, and Fandom Mischaracterizations.

Dune Memes & Misc Shitposts:

The Arrakeen Royal Ballet AU (Fair game to write or draw) (New)

FeydPaulChaniIrulan needs to be called 'The Paulycule' (New)

Dunewave Exists, It Fucks, and I Need You All To Listen To It (New)

Paul Atredies, Cinnamon Roll Evolution (New)

Dune: MerMay Edition (New)

"Feyd-Rautha is a Cannibal"

Focused Feyd-Rautha Meme

RIP NoHo Hank i know you would have rocked just the sluttiest little couture Feyd-Rautha Halloween costume

Dune Fanvids / Crackvids

Big New Feelings Paul Atredies & Lady Jessica w/ PaulChani & FeydPaul Comedy/Crack - 2:41

Family Secrets Always Come Out... (1.0?) Lady Jessica & Paul Atredies/Muad'dib & Glossu Rabban Comedy Crack/Character Study? - 0:50 CW: Canon-Level Emetophobia & Violence

[BIG WIP - REDACTED] (Coming Soon) Kwisatz Haderach General / Drama - 3:30+

Dune Fanfiction:

Detailed Outline Stages, yell at me to stop making low effort memes and write.

[thattimdrakeguy]

anything i see anything new on dc's bat-family it makes me wanna scream "WHAT THE FUCK'S THE MATTER WITH YA" and go after them yelling "FUCK OFF"

(not that bad actually. i'm pretty chill inside most of the time. i'm not what i used to be. a lot of it is performative, but a luke warm attitude towards something you have to say doesn't invoke passion, or anythign exciting that'd make anyone want to read it. not that many do anyways)

so many years of this and none of them get better. it's like it's trying to be pathetic

all those years of things you can research to be sure you get it right, and you fuckers couldn't be arsed to get your ass in gear and make sure all these fans that left have something to go back to?

now this dc server discord. my gosh, i don't think we're seeing the blue skies again. they're catering to a small pond of people, a wee group consisting of those that read panels, and pal around with fan fics and mash-ups that they created and pondered

not the stuff that had plenty of real people going out to the shops and ordering comics, that made them have a love and respect for the medium to the point they were fine calling themselves a fan back when it wasn't right in a cool kind of way in the eyes of many

now they're comics, it's not that serious. whoc ares that much in the end

and i guess i'll never seem like i'm not overreacting a touch

but comics used to tell stories that attached themselves to people's hearts and made them be seen and held, like finally i got something that i respond to

now it's who can rip off the fandom the best, and it's so easy to get content of the same marginal quality on AO3, and fan comics that don't need to blessing of bastard DC Comics

it's sensational the passion people can have despite that, whether or not it's for me. but all those hundreds of thousands of people missing a piece of their prior enjoyment because the 5 stan opinions repeated at nauseum is all anyone important at the writers station (not a real thing, i just mean writers) at the company is making them thing "ah yes, we're doing all right by them"

no you didn't, fucker, you scared the rest away with all the nonsense

now if you want more money you gotta try to earn them back

they think it's hopeless and practically pointless because comics are a dying medium, but they don't have to be. i'm sure it'll never to go back to what it once was, but you can still at least try to have a legacy as a writer that means something to people

when we used to have guys back in the day that could go and fuck around writing stories about peter parker's love life that didn't have much action that you would think the typical reader would desire, that could still effect someone in a way that had them stop and think about themselves, because a fraction of wisdom was hidden in it

now you get characters botched, bastardized, and secretly killed and replaced by those with the same names, and they can't even muster the sense to care. because someone laughed at a character being drawn at the wrong height, or another had a good reaction from people that didn't know the character as they thought they were writing their big magnum opus blockbuster for them

and i don't expect perfection, or the good old days to be possible to back to because they're the old days for a reason

but theirs's still the possibility and ability to go back and figure out the lost art of product control, and ravenous quality that can seep into people's spirits and give them a passion to constantly go back to issue after issue, giving your damn funky company a proper profit that means anything

no there they go ripping off little jimmy on twitter, stan account number 55, who's repeating what their pal jessica said on tumblr about bat-family member that got designated trope number 782 on the list, and that got the writer believing they did a job well done

you can do more

they're all just people, and i admire the fact they got to where they are. bless them for all the accomplishments they have. i can't take that way from them. but i'm also just a person who has what he has to say, and i think there's more to these writers then even they give themselves credit for

whining when people rightfully criticize your poor characterization and (even that's rare given the standards of today's comic fandom population) because it's your interpretation, when that's not how interpretation works

my man the money, and legacy you could create for yourself by doing the job, and research, and making something that actually comes across as a product worth buying could make you name live on for years after your death

comics aren't a large, marginally important industry, that all writers strive to join, but they're a passionate bunch that can make your legacy last for years to come

instead you'd rather sit on the bottom of a barrel being like everyone else typing out the same crap in 5 minutes a junior high student could in 2

batman has made billions of dollars from the excellence of others

and they'd rather sit down and take, what's not even a lot of money given that it's comics, and accept it, then make somethings of themselves, and perhaps with enough lucky make the company and business worth something again

there's no point in not trying

all they'd do is get more out of it with a bit of trying and effort, and passion and metaphorical sweat put into it

why should i read Tim Drake: Robin that can't even remember how Tim would talk about Damian right, and can't be fucked to not make his boyfriend look like a generic twink instead of himself, when i could go back and read something from about a decade before my own birth when it was good (if written by a massive fucker)

i've spent nearly a decade on and off criticizing comics, mainly dc and the bat-family, look at my blog name, it's 'ThatTimDrakeGuy' (yes that's how i personally spell it, with the capitalization), and all i've found are holes and tears in it since i've began back in 2015 when Rebirth was only news and headlines

and i've yet to see things get better when i read some classics and became aware at what was, and what could be

nonsense that people with enough passion to get their asses in gear to get the job and the assignments, with plenty of talents, especially the artists, my goodness regardless if they can remember what characters like tim or damian, and sometimes even easy to remember ass jason todd look like, they still have impressive skill, ability, and talent, that far surpases what the majority of the population on the whole planet can do

so it's not that they can't do it

it's that they don't try

often they try the opposite for quick cheap rewards, in the form of twitter stan brownie points "LOOK THEY HUGGED" "LOOK THEY'RE CRYING" "LOOK HE'S SO SHORT" regardless if that's thhe character, it makes sense, the story needs it, or it'll be remembered in years to come

give me and others a reason to come back

otherwise dc might as well die, which i hate to say, and don't mean all the way because of the jobs that would lose

but how else can i verbalize the general feeling and sensation it gives me, when all of that effort goes to waste with medicore at best products that won't be recalled months from now by any amount of peopel that's substantial?

you could go and be a legend in the field, or another turd in the bucket that's about to fly away in the wind to never be seen 'til their next splatty mess

quite sad and i hate it

and shit, with so many people acceptint it, and talking it up, the idea i can't even see a character i used to enjoy look like themselves at times is a wee miserable

how stupid is that when you think on it

how do you get to that point?

comics aren't serious

but the passion a lot have is

(never hurt anyone over it tho. those people are just wild, and not in a cool way)

[thekidthesuperkid]

Just finished watching the bastard son & the devil himself. Gonna try and write out my thoughts about it, sorry if it's a lot of nonsensical rambling.

What really got my attention about the show is the cycles of violence and abuse and the dynamics of war and oppression that were shown in the show. They don't talk about how the war between the Fairbornes and the Blood witches started. They don't talk about what the original reasons are for everything the two sides do. What the show does focus on is the actions they continue to take in the present and the real results of those actions as opposed to the imagined goals.

Nathan grows up being told he has something evil in him, grows up being treated with suspicion and fear and hatred all because of what his father had done. He grows to fear his own power and even his own emotions for the evil he believes they stem from. But his father was never a devil. His father killed countless Fairbornes, the most well known being at the Peace Massacre. He had tried to arrange peace talks but the terms the Fairbornes proposed were a barely-disguised means for what was basically cultural genocide of the Blood Witches. Marcus was getting revenge on endless amounts of horror inflicted on his people by the Fairborne council. And by doing so the Fairbornes gained a new reason to demonize the Blood witches. This was not Marcus's fault, the atrocities committed by the Fairbornes are entirely on their own heads. Marcus is not a "perfect victim", he attacks the people who attacked him, he's angry and violent and he left Nathan and his mother, but the show seems to make it pretty clear that he's not responsible for what the Fairbornes did in retaliation. I'm glad they did that and I'm glad they didn't make him out to be the bad guy just for fighting back, and at the same time I also like the way they handled showing the collateral of that violence through Ceelia. Ceelia was a survivor of Marcus's attack at Wolfhagen, she was a child and she was scared and she grew up and spent her life fighting the Blood witches. And she was one of the people treating Nathan with fear and suspicion. When she trained him she was violent and angry and harsh. She was abusive, to put it bluntly, and it was because of what Nathan represented. He reminded her of Marcus. She believed that she and the Fairbornes were in the right and were good and just and righteous and that they were justified in what they were doing to the Bloods. Except she saw that she was wrong, the basis for her beliefs was removed and she realized Soul was exactly what the Fairbornes claimed to be fighting against and she changes directions. As the show progresses, we see that instead of drawing from the hatred of the Hunters and the Fairborne, she switches to drawing from her own personal strength, her empathy and the people she loved and the confidence and convictions she'd built herself. She recognized Soul for what he was and she changed. This is really great when contrasted with Soul's story. Because he started out a survivor hiding scared in a closet like Ceelia. But he never had an ability to recognize when his perspective was wrong. Ceelia saw that the war was motivated by hate and fear and bigotry, and that going along with it only fed into that. Soul only saw that he needed to be more like Marcus to win the war, without ever seeing Marcus's reasons. So he went to greater and more horrific lengths to do what Marcus did, and became worse than Marcus had ever been. He became exactly the monster the Fairbornes thought of Marcus as. He was actively seeking to kill and destroy Blood witches and the collateral his mission caused was pretty clearly caused knowingly and intentionally.

There is also something to be said about Jessica and how she was so angry about a supposed devil killing her mother and father but ended up helping the real wolf and the real culprit for her mother's death. She is a uniquely horrifying character because it's so easy to understand why she became that way. Her mother's death was so horrible for her as a small child and she did everything possible in her power to fight back against that, but the only target and the only action within her reach was to abuse her brother, and she just never grew out of that pattern. I feel sorry for her just as much as I dislike her.

Marcus and Nathan's stories are also really interesting in comparison to each other. Nathan was bullied for being the son of Marcus and for potentially being a blood witch but because of also being treated like his anger made him evil he tried to suppress it. Of course because repression doesn't work long term and because bullying naturally makes people angry, Nathan lost control and attacked the people who had been hurting him, which the Fairbornes then used as proof that Nathan was dangerous. Marcus's story mirrors that in several ways. Marcus spends the rest of his life fighting and killing Fairbornes, mainly in revenge. Nathan becomes violent on only a handful of occasions, mostly in reaction to an injustice. He says after trying to kill Ceelia after Odette dies that there have to be consequences even though Ceelia wasn't the cause of Odette dying. Marcus seems to have the same view but slightly more extreme, but in contrast to his father, Nathan has people he loves that pull him back. Annalise repeatedly stops Nathan from getting consumed by his anger. When Nathan does end up killing someone, it's because he believed Kieran is going to attack Gabriel when he was actually trying to help, and Nathan is horrified by Kieran dying. What's also interesting is that Marcus left Nathan and his mother because he believed it would make them safer, and Nathan also tried to prevent Gabriel from coming with him to Wolfhagen, but Marcus never had contact with his family again while Gabriel came back. And throughout the show, Annalise repeatedly reminds Nathan that he is not his father, and Nathan's grandmother also tells him it doesn't matter if a person is Blood or Fairborne. Marcus sent Nathan alone to kill Soul and told him it was a chance to know who he was, but in the end it was Gabriel and Annalise that helped defeat him, with Annalise that killed him. There are repeated instances of people breaking the cycle of violence and oppression with Annalise killing her father and learning about the Blood's side of the story, with Ceelia breaking away from Soul, with Haley falling in love with Marcus and having a child together and not caring about Blood vs Fairborne, and with Nathan not choosing the path of his father.

Soul is great as a bad guy, he literally did so much trying to help the "his own blood will kill the wolf" prophecy get fulfilled that he became the wolf the prophecy was talking about.

What was shown of Gabriel's backstory is fascinating to me, Mercury's abuse and his response to it is shown in a way that feels really accurate. He struggles to get away from her and escape her control, but it seems like he might not have genuinely defied her until Nathan was in danger. There were others like him too, both before and after him. The one before him didn't do anything to help him, and he doesn't seem to have had much contact with the ones after him, but when he finally escapes for Nathan, he also promises to help the other boy get out, which is another way of breaking a cycle although it's not really connected to the main storylines of the show. It seems like the show could have done a lot with Gabriel's story if it had had more time to expand it.

The romance was great also, I hate love triangles so much and am always saying they should just be poly relationships and this show did that! Literally everything I've ever wanted.

TLDR: came for the poly queer relationship, stayed for the themes of cycles of violence and abuse. Also characters who break the cycles <3

[enbysiriusblack]

emmeline vance hcs? pretty please?

her favourite professor is dumbledore but the actual professor who she talks to the most/and would be her favourite if not for the bundle of daddy issues and need to be powerful and famous is actually septima vector

preppy asf

her fav colour is blue & she wears/accessories with a lot if it so a lot of students that don't know her assume she's a ravenclaw

likes things from all music genres but she looks very much like a pop girl so people are shocked when she suddenly blasts heavy metal

has super neat and pretty handwriting but what she's actually writing is utter nonsense

drumming 24/7 without realising. she alway gets told to stop during class

loves loves loves attention but never gets it (which is why she's so close to florence, cause florence will always give her attention. she's like the karen to her gretchen (mean girls), the jessica to her blair (gossip girl), the mcnamara to her duke (heathers)

perpetually bitter, insecure, and obsessive <3