#that woman has been settling her whole life because she actually doesn’t want better that’s fucking crazy

[whimsycore]

It’s actually crazy when you can tell your own mother doesn’t want you to do better because she doesn’t want better FOR herself and will try to force you to settle with her

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

I hate those Daenerys is going to sacrifice herself/die theories so much it genuinely makes me tweak and I have never been the type of person to get upset at all over fiction or any type of media, but this irks me so bad because not only is Daenerys my absolute favorite character of all time, it’s upsetting how the female character is always the one who has to die for others sakes and never achieve anything for herself. Yes, it’s her destiny as AA to fight the Others, but that doesn’t mean that she has to die doing it. Like, seriously, after we got F&B and saw how many Targaryen women struggled with misogyny and being passed over for the throne, it feels upsetting to me if the one who is supposed to break the wheel will never have a chance to do so. I do love Bran but I do not see him fit to sit on the throne, not to mention how young he is and will be at the series end unless George does a massive timeskip, and after the whole world is in shambles after the Long Night, who is more fitting to sit on the throne and help mend things and lead the people forward? A well experienced ruler and fighter who will bring along a new age of change, or a child with no such experience? Perhaps it’s just me being salty but I just really want the best for my favorite character who I believe deserves to have her shot at having a home and being able to rule and change the world together with the other characters. Especially after the end of GoT, which no I don’t ever believe that George will go that route, but with how everything happened in the show, it looked like Westeros was a completely and utter mess and there was nobody capable left to pick up the pieces, Bran’s ascension to the throne was so random too and didn’t even feel satisfying or like a good conclusion (not that those two incapable idiots could ever produce a satisfying ending, but yeah). What are your thoughts on this? I just feel sad that fellow Dany fans are literally enthusiastically waiting for her death in the upcoming books as if there isn’t a better destiny for her :( The female character who managed to rise to power and become a ruler in her own right dying or giving that up to the men in order to “settle down” leaves such a bad taste in my mouth and doesn’t look like the subversion George has done with her character at all.

I definitely agree with you anon, Dany dying/sacrificing herself really doesn't seem to fit with her story. Yes, Dany certainly would be willing to die to save the world, but that doesn't seem to be where GRRM is writing her.

Dany's story is saturated with life; which is pretty ironic since she's been called "Daughter of Death". She's closely tied to themes of fertility (mother of dragons, helloo), rebirth (Azor Ahai, entering the pyre), and survival/endurance.

Dany's story shares very little similarities to characters who have been set up for death. For example, Robb. Dany may share some superficial similarities to Robb, but the signs of Robb's impending death are not shared at all. GRRM always sets up the deaths of his major characters from their introductions. That hasn't happened with Dany; if anything we see a set up to her surviving.

You're so right about how people are foaming at the mouth for Dany's death. Her dying after everything she's been through and everything she stands for is just...no. It feels so gross and has some really concerning undertones.

The woman who actually fought for change and made a massive upheaval in the status quo, who genuinely cares for all her people, who understands the responsibility of ruling, who demonstrates incredible wisdom, who only wants to make the world better dying for the sake of the story is just wow.

[oddlittlestories]

Okay but actually if House and Wilson are having sex the whole time… it’s bleak.

- you fall in love with a man after his divorce. maybe he loves you too?

- he gets married to a woman. he doesn’t even like her. she knows about you two.

- you meet someone. she seems great, until she overrides your consent to save your life. it saves your life. it destroys your life. it ruins your ability to trust.

- you basically give up on looking for someone else. you can’t really be with your boy best friend, but at least he’s protective in a way you trust.

- wife # 2 comes and goes. wife #3 comes and goes. she’s never more important than you. except for being the wife.

- you think he’s stopped trying to find a long-term partner other than you. it only hurts a little when he finds stupid short-term flings.

- you offer to be a sperm donor for a friend / former flame trying IVF. she excitedly involves you in the process even if she doesn’t want your sperm. maybe this is how you get a family.

- she stops.

- your boy best friend starts seeing someone new. he actually likes her this time—because she actively reminds him of you. you can’t decide whether this is better or worse.

- you decide it’s better. you come to a “strange detente” with her. he’s happy. you’re mostly happy but you sabotage them a bit. lightheartedly. mostly.

- she gets in an accident because of you. your boy best friend is trying to protect you until you all realize it’s her.

- he asks you to risk your life to save her. you’ve always needed to go to extremes, in a desperate situation like this. he knows that. but he may also value her life over yours.

- you do it. it fails. he leaves.

- at least your old flame is there and you’re not completely alone.

- you’re bad at being vulnerable, but you ask him to stay. he leaves.

- you figure out that he is just scared. you make up.

- your old flame adopts a child, but you are not involved in any way.

- you begin to hallucinate. you fear this will result in losing your boy best friend. when you check into Mayfield, you believe that it has.

- but when you move out, you move in with him. you don’t really care if he has sex with the neighbor. you’ve been having sex with other people the whole time, and honestly the competition is kind of hot.

- you settle in. no more dating. he furnishes your apartment, and the one thing he picks? a way of saying he wants you.

- you don’t have a conversation about the relationship, but you’re pretty sure you’re essentially married now. you two have always felt that actions speak louder than words anyways.

- then he dates his ex-wife who used the hell out of him. you spiral, hostile and angry.

- he’s never going to see you and him as a real relationship. you’re never going to be good enough in that way. never never never

- your old flame is falling in love with someone else. you get jealous.

- she decides her feelings for you are greater. it’s your one last shot at a partnership. you can’t screw it up

- but deep down you know

- you know you’ll never be good enough

- she just hasn’t figured it out yet

- she figures it out

- you spiral, but this time it’s a free fall

- by this point, you know the dirty little secret of your life. your boy best friend will never be with you, but he’ll never leave you either. you tell him to do whatever he needs to do to get over it. he does.

- he has cancer. treatment doesn’t work.

- you’ve lived in pain, physical and emotional, for decades. he won’t live in pain for two years for you.

- you believe a miserable life is better than a miserable death. he believes a merciful death is better. you have never been able to reconcile this one fundamental difference between you.

- you never will

- the repetition becomes trite: you spiral

- it’s going to cost you everything. you should just give up.

- you find another way out. you fake your death to share his last five months with him.

- you run away together

- everyone will say you were selfish. an ass. they will say you never thought of anyone but yourself. they will say your boy best friend sacrificed and sacrificed. they will never see what you gave to him.

- story of your life

[zwy01]

Blood Moon AU!! Part 1 - Nobles

Time for a second major AU yayy!! I’m still working on Millennium AU as usual, though I want to get started on another one that’s been on my mind since years ago but never really got the chance to put on paper.

So here we are. I’m calling this Blood Moon AU. The nobles and werewolves basically have a race swap in an almost brand new setting. Lukedonia and werewolf island still exist; it’s the characters that have changed.

All characters reference their canon counterparts to various degrees. Some are similar or even near identical to the original, while some are vastly different. This could apply to names, looks, personalities, heritage/family, moral alignment… etc. It’s gonna be fun! I’m going to let myself get crazy with this and change things up quite a bit, haha.

As for the story. To be completely honest, at this point I just want to start off this new AU as more of a simple artistic approach. Right now I’m much more interested in designing and drawing the characters rather than writing the story itself. Maybe I’ll come up with something much later but it won’t be nearly as complicated as Millennium AU, and it’ll be fairly straightforward. Even then, I don’t want to rush it so that’s for the future. If I end up liking this new AU more than I do right now, maybe I’ll give the story an honest shot and turn it into more of a long-term project, but time will tell.

(Fyi “Noblesse” does not exist in the world. Too early for details but they either never existed, are a now permanently extinct special type of noble, or they simply peaced out and ditched Earth and returned to their special heavenly realm… etc. Honestly doesn’t matter. In this AU’s setting, they are absent. “Raizel” and his brother do exist but they’re both human. Actual normal human beings, with a normal life, currently students at a normal high school, stuff like that. Just your average human. The trio are also unmodified normal human beings. They are scattered across the world and never meet each other. Basically, unlike their canon counterparts, their existence is minimal and contribute to almost nothing in this universe. It’s weird, I know! That’s just how this AU is set up)

I’m going to split the noble and werewolf characters into two parts. Doing the (originally werewolves) nobles first! Posting the werewolves in a future post aka. part 2.

The characters!

Lucretia Natalina “Lunark” Drosia: Leader of the Drosia Clan. Kendrick’s twin, and on-and-off lovers with Julius. A rather carefree woman who is primarily interested in having fun, and shows little to no concern for the future of Lukedonia as a whole. When it comes to her people, she is a decent Clan Leader and manages her family efficiently. Lucretia’s efforts only apply to her clan, and her interests in other noble affairs are almost nonexistent. She has a habit of ditching meetings and whatnots. Sometimes, she even tries to ignore the Lord’s summons but ends up going anyway because her lovely daughter makes her show up. The only thing that can get Lucretia’s blood pumping with true passion is an offer to spar. Lucretia is an excellent fighter. People have to be very careful to not interrupt her fights unless they want to unleash her wrath, because she hates it when people invite themselves into her business. She also likes to flirt with her opponents during spars. Lucretia has a bit of a weird relationship with Julius, who is the father of her daughter. They seem to have positive feelings for each other, but that’s only when both of them are very bored and have nothing better to do.

Kendrick Tian-Chen “Kentas” Ru: Leader of the Ru Clan. Lucretia’s twin. A prideful, stubborn man who believes that the stronger should rule the weak. Like his sister Lucretia, he likes to fight and enjoys a good spar. Sometimes, people can choose to settle a quarrel with Kendrick by offering to spar with him and he would gladly accept. You can trust him, because he’s a man of his word. No more grudges, no hurt feelings. Done. In a way, he’s quite simple. Unlike his sister, Kendrick does care about the future of Lukedonia. He has a strong moral code of his own, but that can be overridden by his belief of submitting to the strong. That is why Kendrick is extremely loyal to their Lord and never questions him even if the latter makes some controversial decisions. As of now, Kendrick has no children.

Marcus Duruvan “Maduke” Siriana: Leader of the Siriana Clan. Erica’s older brother, and the Lord’s advisor. The only person who truly has everyone’s best interests at heart. You can say he’s the most “good person” leaning guy in this entire AU. Marcus is quite worried about the future under their Lord’s reign. Life is pretty comfortable inside Lukedonia, which is by itself very isolated from the rest of the world. However, Marcus foresees the destruction of planet earth if no one stops the Lord, since the latter doesn’t care about other races and is only concerned with the prosperity of nobles. Though, he doesn’t want to overthrow the Lord and instead wants to convince him to step away from his current path of darkness. He believes there is still hope. Simultaneously, Marcus is secretly gathering followers and supporters who all share his beliefs and formed his own organization. Together they work to transport resources out of Lukedonia and deliver them to humans and werewolves in need because the Lord refuses the share.

Marcus is struggling to plan for the future of the Siriana Clan, in case the Lord gets tired of him and decides to kill him one day for “meddling” too much, because his younger sister Erica is insane and cruel which makes her the worst possible candidate for the next Clan Leader of Siriana. Marcus loves her, but also fears her. He doesn’t know what she is capable of. Marcus is trying to look for ways to bypass his sister and hopefully be able to hand over both his position and Soul Weapon to another pure-blooded Siriana who isn’t his sister.

Marcus had a son, but he was assassinated sometime after his coming-of-age ceremony and now Marcus is once again childless and without an heir. To this day no one can figure out who the culprit is.

Erica Siriana: Marcus’ younger sister, and next-in-line for the position of Siriana Clan Leader. Wife of Lord Maximilian, and mother of Ashlynn. Erica is a ruthless, bloodthirsty woman. She is actually the person who orchestrated her nephew’s assassination. She made sure he was killed, then got rid of his killers, whom she sent, with her own hands. No one is going to suspect a thing and they’ll never find out no matter how hard they try. Erica did this to eliminate brother Marcus’ heir so she can regain her position as first-in-line. She’s been after her nephew ever since he was born, but waited for two whole centuries before doing the deed. To Erica, she’s just getting back what she’s entitled to, which is the full power, control, and privileges of a Clan Leader. Marcus is trying to be discreet but if Erica ever finds out that her brother intends to bypass her and give his position and Soul Weapon to someone else, she might actually just kill him and take over the clan immediately. Erica is truly a terrifying, power-hungry woman who will do anything to reach her goals. She does not care for anyone aside from her daughter Ashlynn and husband Maximilian, whom she genuinely loves. As messed up as Erica is, she is capable of being very loving and committed to whom she treasures. She and her husband are absolutely addicted to each other and he would let her do anything her heart wishes for, even if she continuously breaks Lukedonian laws.

Vivienne Branwen Di Ashlynn: Name means “lively and blessed raven of dreams”. Daughter of Erica Siriana and Lord Maximilian, and the next Lord of Lukedonia. On the surface, Ashlynn isn’t as straightforward as her mother despite their similarities. Ashlynn is just as ruthless and bloodthirsty as Erica, but the former puts on a facade in front of her people and pretends to be a sweet, altruistic future Lord. The perfect angel princess. And she’s very successful at it. Ashlynn is energetic, talkative, and empathetic around her subjects. She always tells them about how she wants her father to teach her power so she can protect not only her subjects, but also people around the world so they don’t have to suffer from hunger and war. In reality, she doesn’t care about any of them and she honestly thinks of them as a burden. They’re nothing more than cockroaches to her, and she’s only doing this because she enjoys deceiving her people and pulling on their puppet strings. She welcomes the love and respect they give her, and at the same time pities them for not knowing better, for she’s had them fooled this entire time. The world is her stage, and she’s the center. Ashlynn only drops her act and returns to her true self around her parents, who not only tolerate, but also accept and even encourage their daughter’s behavior. Well, their entire family is insane. Erica and Maximilian are totally overindulging Ashlynn while being completely aware of the fact that she is just as insane as them with no attempt to correct her, because she’s their little princess and hey, if she wants the world, then they’ll give it to her. Like Erica, Ashlynn doesn’t care about anyone who isn’t her family. Ashlynn loves both of her parents to the moon and back, and she might as well kill anyone who dares to speak ill about either of them. No one is allowed to disrespect them in front of her. Not a single word.

Ashlynn has a crush on Dominic and wants him for herself one day.

Eutimio Friedrich Di Maximilian: Name means “good-spirited and peaceful ruler of the greatest”. The current Lord, husband of Erica Siriana, and father of Ashlynn. Maximilian firmly believes that nobles are the most supreme beings to exist on this planet, and that they have a right to rule over every other species. Humans, werewolves, whatever… well, for now he’ll let them be for as long as they’re still useful. He won’t hesitate to unleash his power on them if he loses his patience. From a world view, Maximilian would be categorized as “evil”, but he doesn’t think of himself as such. In fact, he believes that he is doing good for his people, who are his priority. Which is true from a certain perspective, especially to the nobles who share their Lord’s vision. To them, Lord Maximilian is the greatest Lord in all of noble history. To others who strongly disagree with him, he is the most terrifying and coldblooded Lord in existence. Maximilian is only concerned with the prosperity of Lukedonia and doesn’t quite welcome the idea of distributing resources with the rest of the world. He doesn’t want the nobles to simply exist alongside other species; he’ll make sure the nobles are on the very top of the food chain. Everyone else is irrelevant and they’re all at his mercy. Generally, opinions are very divided and you either side with him, or you don’t. Life is very, very comfortable inside Lukedonia, and indeed, to some nobles, that is all they care about. Those with more empathy see beyond the obvious and are concerned with what goes on outside Lukedonia. The thing with Maximilian is that despite showing neither mercy nor any sign of remorse for his deeds in the outside world, he is actually quite lenient and loving with his subjects. You can say he has two extreme sides to him. He’s very kind to his nobles, but only them. He doesn’t mind if Lucretia skips meetings; he’d let her be. Or when his servants make mistakes, when someone does something offensive, etc... it’s alright, no big deal. In a way, Maximilian’s Lukedonia is teeming with freedom like never before under the rule of his predecessors. This is where Marcus comes in. He is just nervous and overthinking about getting killed if he says the wrong thing, but in reality Maximilian doesn’t mind voices of objection. He’s not going to give anyone a treason sentence or kill them for saying what they really think of him. You can tell him you disagree with him, he’ll just shrug it off and laugh. Say all you want, he knows you’re trying to persuade him, he doesn’t care. He’ll just keep doing what he’s always been doing. Maximilian knows he’s the Lord, and ultimately it is his decision to make. Just don’t let Ashlynn know, because she’ll come after your head if she figures out that you had doubts about her precious Daddy.

Maximilian is a very loving husband and father to his family. He is obsessed with them just as much as they are obsessed with him. On a personal level, while Maximilian himself doesn’t crave for the blood of his own kind like his wife and daughter do, he doesn’t mind letting them do whatever they want for the funs and thrills. Erica and Ashlynn are free to break the law all they want. Though, they’re smart and strategic with it and don’t commit murder in broad daylight. Still, Maximilian is aware of his beloveds’ occasional killings, and he lets them be. He’s the type of person who would let them burn down the entirety of Lukedonia to nothing more than a pile of ash if that is what they wish to do. It’s no big deal, he’ll just rebuild Lukedonia to be even grander and more luxurious than before! To Maximilian, they are the only two existences in this world to come before Lukedonia. How sweet.

Zivon Tradio: Leader of the Tradio Clan. An elderly sorcerer who is quite the hard worker, and spends most of his time studying existing spells as well as coming up with new ones. He’s from the previous generation of nobles, and he stayed behind because he’s just too damn cool to die. Just kidding, his love for magic is why he’s still rocking it. It’s still too early! Zivon’s ultimate goal is to push the boundaries of noble magic and to create what has never been seen before. A true spectacle to behold. Zivon is one of Lord Maximilian’s favorite subjects and the latter even has an entire wifi system built and set up in Lukedonia as a gift just because the former has the hobby of streaming and likes being an “influencer”or whatever the humans call it. Zivon is quite an internet celebrity and Lord Maximilian is supportive of his work of “spreading superior noble influence over humans”. Zivon is also Princess Ashlynn’s tutor, who calls him “teacher”.

As of now, Zivon has no children.

Julius Loyard: Leader of the Loyard Clan. On-and-off lovers with Lucretia. An elegant man who is well-received by his fellow nobles. Julius is a man of few words and usually doesn’t express himself beyond the bare minimum required to be polite. While Julius does admit to enjoying the lavish lifestyle that was a gift from the Lord to all nobles, he is beginning to see why this is a problem for beings outside Lukedonia and starts to sympathize with them. It isn’t easy for him immediately to give up what he’s been used to all these years, but he’s starting to steer away from that lifestyle in support of the less fortunate. Julius was one of the first members to join Marcus’ secret organization of smuggling resources out of Lukedonia to help those in need. Currently, he’s responsible as the leader of the food distribution sector. In his free time, Julius is a jewelry designer and Lord Maximilian is a fan of his work.

Julius’ heir is his son whom he had with Lucretia. He is fond of her but doesn’t entirely agree with her rather carefree personality. They seem to have positive feelings for each other, but that’s only when both of them are very bored and have nothing better to do.

Giada Agvain: Leader of the Agvain Clan. Like Kendrick, she is extremely loyal to their Lord. She’s been by his side since the beginning, and they are childhood friends. Everyone knows that Giada used to feel one-sided love for the then-Maximilian and now Lord Maximilian, but what they don’t know is that she is still in love with him. Well, maybe it’s better for them to continue to believe that she has gotten over him. It’s not like he’ll ever like her back anyway, and you’ll never know what Princess Ashlynn will do if she finds out that anyone other than her precious Mommy is “coveting” her beloved Daddy. Giada is one of the few people who knows about Ashlynn’s true nature despite the latter’s angelic facade. While Giada does love Max on a personal level and is loyal to him, she doesn’t agree with his actions. She is also one of the first members of Marcus’ organization. Currently, Giada is responsible as the leader of the money distribution sector. In her free time, Giada tends to a small spider lily garden.

Giada’s heir is her daughter whom she had with an unnamed noble woman.

Dominic Raffaello “Dorant” Blerster: Leader of the Blerster Clan. A calm and rational man who remains unfazed in extreme situations. He is also the youngest to become Clan Leader, because his mother and predecessor saw so much potential in him, she passed over her title and Soul Weapon to him as soon as he came of age. Dominic pretends to be fairly neutral, and most people think he isn’t dedicated to anything or anyone, but he’s actually Lord Maximilian’s right hand man in the shadows. On the surface, he is simply Clan Leader of the Blersters and does a good job of managing his clan. When he no longer needs to act as Clan Leader, Dominic goes to the castle and reports everyone’s moves to his Lord. Dominic is actually a member of Marcus’ secret organization and oversees the medical distribution sector… as a double agent. His allegiance is with the Lord and he’s only there to watch what everyone else is doing to report back to his master. That includes a long list of who is working with Marcus, what resources they have been smuggling out of Lukedonia, who is on the receiving end… etc. Every. Single. One. So Lord Maximilian is very much aware of Marcus’ “betrayal” thanks to Dominic. Curiously, Lord Maximilian tells Dominic to just let them be. Perhaps he finds this to be amusing. Nobody knows what he’s thinking. Dominic, on the other hand, is in total awe of his Lord for his immense generosity for the “traitors” even though they clearly don’t deserve it.

Dominic doesn’t know that Ashlynn has a crush on him.

As of now, Dominic has no children.

Undine Mergas: Daughter of the leader of the Mergas Clan. A woman with a short temper who is also easily provoked. Undine’s father, the current Mergas Clan Leader, believes that she is unfit to become Clan Leader due to her personality and tendencies to boss the knights around instead of being a responsible and respectful leader like she is supposed to, but he is hopeful that she will change one day. Undine is best friends with Mimi and the two of them are almost always seen together. On one of her travels to the outside world, Undine met a human named Michael Travis Osborn by chance and she has had a crush on him ever since. He’s pretty cute. Maybe the Lord will let her capture him and bring him back to Lukedonia, she thinks.

Mimi Elenor: Daughter of the leader of the Elenor Clan. A woman with a similar personality to her best friend Undine, but less impulsive and more calm. That’s why they get along and are best friends because they have much in common. Mimi has an older brother so she likely won’t become the next Elenor Clan Leader, but she’s fine with that. In fact, she’s glad she won’t become Clan Leader because all those responsibilities, hassles, sitting in meetings all day, blah blah blah… ew, just too much work. She just wants to have fun, so her brother better be competent so she won’t have to bother with her clan at all. Mimi, like Undine, also has a crush on Michael Travis Osborn. They chat about how cute he is. Both of them want to capture him and bring him into Lukedonia. They’re thinking about discussing this with the Lord. If Lord Maximilian hears about this, he’d approve of the capture and tell them to go ahead and enjoy themselves because of course he wants all of his nobles to get their hands on everything they wish for. Plus, these two remind him of his daughter Ashlynn so he’d be even more generous towards them.

Kushaal Kertia: Leader of the Kertia Clan. Cousin of Galileo. A respected fighter known for his immense speed and agility even amongst the Kertia. Kushaal is also honorable. He dislikes dirty fighting and is fairly open to acknowledging his own weaknesses and strives to become even stronger and faster. He has heard about a certain blonde werewolf warrior who is the fastest of his pack, and wishes to fight him one day. While Kushaal enjoys and supports the luxurious lifestyle given to him by their Lord, he believes that humans and werewolves could use some help from Lukedonia. After all, if they’re all gone, he’s not going to have anyone interesting to fight with anymore. Kushaal would love to spar with the werewolves, so he hopes that they’re doing well. In his free time, Kushaal likes to collect rare werewolf artifacts to display in his home because they feel familiar to him, for some odd reason.

As of now, Kushaal has no children.

Galileo Kravei: Son of the leader of the Kravei Clan. Cousin of Kushaal. A man who has a bit of an inferiority complex because his abilities seem to have hit a wall, and he can’t get stronger with his own strength. Galileo is probably going to get by just fine, even though he himself is more impatient than anyone in terms of wanting to gain strength. Other than that, no one really knows much about him since he tends to keep to himself. In his free time, he plays with his three supernatural pet aquatic snakes: Ramen, Ramyeon, and Lamien. Galileo has a huge love-hate crush on Kendrick, and people will tell you he’s both extra mean and extra nice to him. He sends him cheesy “let’s fight” love letters written on rose scented paper. Yeah. He’s totally in love.

And that’s it for now!

Again, very open to questions and discussion. Quite happy about my second major AU! While this post only touches the surface of what I have in mind, I have a feeling that I will grow to like this AU even more. Maybe I’ll even create brand new OCs specific to this AU lol.

Thank you for reading and stay tuned for future posts!

[thechairanon]

"I'm getting writing ideas! I'll get back to you with something in a couple of hours" <- the voice of a mf who comes back with the product 17 hours later. But I do have it below the read more! @bookstackanon because you wanted to see :)

[Redacted] had just finished sanding the wood pieces for her new project when her doorbell rang.

She got up, brushed the wood shavings off her apron and pants, and sped over to her door to see who it was.

“(Removed)!” She exclaimed as she flung the door open. “And {Missing}! It’s so nice to see you again, it’s been too long! How are you?”

“Hey, Puppet Girl,” (Removed) said as he swooped his younger sister into a hug. “Are you still making chairs?”

“Oh, get off,” [Redacted] hissed as she wriggled out of her brother’s grasp. She brushed herself off again and turned to the other woman in the room to hug her. “Oh, how have you been?”

{Missing} smiled. “It’s nice to see you again as well. I’m excited to see what you’ve been working on! (Removed) has been too, he just won't admit it.”

“Don’t tell her that, she’ll start to think I actually like her,” (Removed) teased. “Are you excited for the family reunion?”

“Of course I’m excited. It’s the first reunion with {Missing}, and the whole family will be in my house by saturday. It’ll be nice to see everyone again.”

(Removed) ruffled [Redacted]’s hair. “Yeah, we just have to make sure Uncle --Unavailable-- doesn’t bring that freaky string puppet again. Oh, babe, did I ever tell you about how [Redacted] got her nickname?”

“Can you get out of my doorway before you tell your girlfriend about the time you traumatized me for life?” [Redacted] sighed.

“Traumatized?” {Missing} gasped. “You traumatized your sister?”>

(Removed) laughed and led his girlfriend into the living room, [Redacted] close behind them.

In the living room, {Missing} took a seat in a rocking chair, (Removed) sat on an older oak and [Removed] stood leaning in the doorway because there were no more seats left.

“Did you make this?” {Missing} asked as she settled into the cedar rocking chair. “It’s beautiful.”

[Redacted] smiled. “Aww, thank you! The rocking chairs are harder to make, so I don’t usually spend my time on them. The seat (Removed) is sitting in was made by our grandad.”

“Hello? Impatient boyfriend and older brother over here!” (Redacted) said.

“Go ahead,” [Redacted] said, inviting her brother to speak. “Tell your girlfriend about how horrible of a brother you are.”

“Alright, alright,” (Removed) rolled his eyes. “So get this, it was [Redacted]’s sixth birthday, right? Our weird uncle we only ever see for celebrations got her some creepy puppet looking thing he found at some antique shop.”

“It wasn’t a puppet, it was a marionette,” [Redacted] argued. “It had strings and joints and everything.”.

“Only someone named Puppet Girl would know the difference between a puppet and a mari- mar- whatever. The only reason he got the damn thing was because he saw it was double jointed like her.”

{Missing} cringed as she watched [Redacted] move her arms in ways they weren't supposed to go.

“Her knees are like that too,” (Removed) said. “But, uhh… yeah. [Redacted] was terrified of the thing. So I, the best big brother in the whole wide world, decided to move it next to her bed that night and make it look like it was watching her sleep. We woke up to her screaming her head off.”

“That’s horrible,” {Missing} gasped.

[Redacted] nodded. “Oh, absolutely. He told his friends the moment he could. Then his friends told their other friends, and that led to everyone I’ve ever known calling me “Puppet Girl”. The damn nickname has stuck for years. I mean, I’ve tried to get rid of it by taking up baking and solving mysteries and making chairs, but no! I get stuck with “Puppet Girl” for the rest of my life.”

“At least no one is calling you Chair Girl, right?” {Redacted} asked with a nervous giggle.

“Somehow, people just calling me “Chair” is better than Puppet Girl. And my stupid brother hasn’t made it up to me yet!”

“It’s been twenty-two years!” (Removed) objected. “And I have the perfect gift to make it up. I’ll go grab it.”

(Removed) got up and rushed out of the house. [Redacted] watched as he left.

“He doesn’t actually have a gift for me, does he?” She asked.

“No, no, he really does!” {Missing} answered. “He’s been telling me how much you love solving mysteries ever since he found them.”

“Found… what?”

{Missing} smiled. “I’ll let him tell you.”

(Removed) rushed back into the room and handed [Redacted] a cardboard box.

“I found these in the woods,” he said proudly, “thought you’d like to take a listen.”

[Redacted] sat down on the floor and lifted the lid off the box. In said box were an armful of tapes. There were… ten? Maybe fifteen? Tapes in total.

“Maybe you’ll solve a murder,” (Removed) said, grinning. “What do you think, Chair girl?”

Part 2 / Part 3

[electricbluebutterflies]

Hello! For the kissing prompt list:

kiss on the inside of the wrist + Tess/Joel

Very vaguely nsfw and also on ao3.

It happens more or less by accident, same way everything does.

Tess is capable on her own, yes, but she’s still a decently young woman and that ain’t always in her favor and… she’d been thinking about a roommate, and then she started screwing someone a little more regularly than she planned, and-

Fine. She asked a man she’s pretty sure she’s in love with to move in with her and otherwise continue the friends-with-benefits bullshit she suspects is the best they’ll ever actually do. She’ll hate herself for it later.

He’s become enough of a fixture in her apartment in the past month anyways that it doesn’t feel weird, not much to change logistically, just… it’ll get weird in a couple days, when it kicks in, but not now not yet not-

She jumps him, because that’s just what they do in the same space with a convenient mattress for her to pin him to, and she thinks maybe the weird point will be the first night they’re in the same bed and they don’t fuck, maybe-

Tess isn’t thinking about that right now, not while she’s rolling her hips against his. This has already gotten familiar, like she’d been waiting her whole life for this dynamic, for this pretty man who lets her have control and-

She bites his shoulder as she feels pressure burst, stays in that position after, until she feels him get breathless and oh they are so well matched and-

“This is what I get with you?” Joel mutters as their bodies separate.

“Don’t tell me it’s different now that-“

He curls his hand around hers and brings it to his mouth, leaves a line of scruffy kisses across her wrist. “That sound or look like a complaint?”

“I’ve never been in this position. Wouldn’t know.”

“Got worse with the ex, but… you aren’t her.”

First mention of a serious ex Tess has ever heard, but they don’t exactly talk. She’s at least figured out where he’s from, but the accent would’ve done that, and the four brothers she wasn’t talking to before the outbreak feel implied enough, and-

“I like you,” she murmurs. “I asked you to move in because we’re good like this. Can’t promise forever, but-“

“Won’t ask for forever. Don’t end well for me.”

Ah, so that kind of serious ex. Wife, maybe, probably left him, probably-

On some level, Tess doesn’t wanna know. On a deeper one, she does love a challenge, and proving herself as a better person sounds like a fun one, and-

“So the fact that I’ve never even had a serious boyfriend is probably hot for you,” she laughs.

“That what you want?”

Oh, she’s crossed a line, she can see it in the way he’s looking at her and… yes, she wants to say, yes that’s absolutely what she wants at the very least, but-

“I’d settle for you not hitting me and not fucking anyone else without telling me in a timely fashion. Very low standards.”

“Very easy to meet.”

She wants more, she thinks as she shifts position to clean the mess off her thighs, but the closer they get the more aware she is that she can’t ask for that. The closer they get…

“You’d be amazed how many guys can’t do either.”

“Don’t hurt you, don’t lie to you… any other conditions?”

“Not yet.”

She doesn’t need much, really. Just… be decent to her, let her be what she is, don’t trap her in domesticity and…

He’ll do fine, she thinks as she takes a soft kiss. She’d decided as much six weeks ago across a dive bar and she’s claiming it now. They’ll do fine.

[chrisevansluv]

In my opinion, this whole situation looks like something that was never supposed to be public info and has basically gone down hill since it came out. And because of that, I don’t think it’ll last very long, probably until February or it may even stretch into March at the most. I do think that Chris and Alba were hooking up on/off, but as time went on fans were getting suspicious of everything. The innocent, real-life Cap, ready to settle down Chris was beginning to be questioned and picked apart. Him seeing or hooking up with someone half his age, when it’s only assumed he wants someone with his shared life experience meaning someone around his age. So the narrative that needed to stick and was pushed is that he’s still the same guy, he’s actually in a serious relationship with someone, and that’s he’s finally found the one who he’s ready to share the type of life he’s been spewing about wanting for so long. But he nor his team were ready for the backlash or scrutiny that this whole thing brought. Getting called horrific names like groomer, pedo, and pervert was something that they’d never think they’d see. Fans taking off the shades and seeing him for who he really is. A grown man who has no problem liking or hooking up with younger women despite calling their same-age counterparts “kids”, and all of the babying and blindly defending him was done for next to nothing. Which sadly, has left a lot of his fans feeling manipulated and betrayed. Especially with some unfortunately getting blocked on social media. His words didn’t match his actions and it’s a hard pill to swallow. And I do see why some people believe he isn’t serious about her, or doesn’t take this whole “relationship” serious. Look at his most recent relationship. He was one of the reasons a marriage came to an end, and proudly with his chest out, went public with a relationship within the same time frame his new girlfriend was announcing her divorce. Openly took her to places with him like Sydney, his family went to her movie premiere, and she even blended in with his family while being at WDW twice. Look at Londongate of 2020. Although we all knew that was definitely a PR stunt and an image cleanup (mainly for Lily herself), his whole attitude and body language said that even though it’s fake he was actually into the moment. He was never stiff, he actually touched her back in a way that showed he was engaged with her, and even though both of their faces were covered they had a good laugh or two with the duty they were given. But with Alba things seem off. Throughout their “whole year” together, not a single person ever spotted this man with a new woman. When it’s finally announced they’re together and they do their first public walk, he looks overtly covered up (even though his clothes & signature cap gave him away), very stiff, and their touch doesn’t look like a genuine “we’re so happy, we can’t stop touching each other” way. He preferred to keep his hands at his side, in his pockets, balled into a fist, or hold his own belongings. This second go-round was not much better even though it was very shortly seen. While she is out in the open and deciding to just go face free despite wearing sunglasses, here he is again overtly covered up. Instead of a signature ball cap, he takes it a step further by where a full fledge bucket hat. One that covers his entire head and hair. He dons sunglasses and an entire mask that’s just seated right under the shades. You wouldn’t know that was him if it wasn’t for her showing off her infamous back tattoo. We can say he wore a mask for work, but why didn’t his best friend and assistant whose also there in the this second walk wear one to? He works with Chris on set day in and day out, if the case was to protect himself from catching anything then his friend would be wearing one too. Alba not so much, but definitely those two. Both sides of the spectrum have opinions on this matter, and it’s better to respect it than fight about whose right and whose wrong.

.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗘'𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡 - part three max vertsappen x  fem! reader ( angst ) “. . . when the love of your life gets hurt and he for some reason still won't leave you, even in death.”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

Max stood behind you as you worked, cutting a threading fabric. He never knew you actually pursued your dream as a designer. He sat on a stool, admiring you as you did your passion around your station.  He couldn’t have a conversation with you in public but when no one was looking he’d whisper a compliment or remind you to drink.

You stopped yourself from looking at him, an involuntary smile curling on your lips. Things were much better. Sure you were a “lonely crazy cat lady” in love with your half dead partner's ghost, but this was better than being alone and stuck in your bed stuffing fries in your mouth.

“Knock knock.” You and Max turned to see one of your co-workers enter your space. She pulled the stool Max had been sitting on and settled beside you. “I thought Karla gave you a longer break?” Karla, your manager,  had given you a whole month off so you could process everything. But since you were feeling better, you cut your break short. 

“She did. But I feel better here.” Your voice was muffled from the pins you held in your mouth. “It’s better to not isolate myself.” Max, who had fallen on his ass once his seat was stolen, glared at the woman. Putting his hands on his hips, he bore holes in her head. You held back a smile, thinking max looked ridiculous. 

“What’s so funny-- What’s this?” She held up your left wrist, looking at the diamond on your with a deep glare. “Where did you get this?”You pulled your hand from her immediately, holding it to your chest protectively. “It’s mine.” You brushed her off, trying to get back to work.

“It most certainly does not.” She stood up looking at you concerned. “Y/N, you're going crazy-” You glared at her, shutting her up instantly. “I’m fine. Nothing is wrong with me. And Max gave me the ring. So leave me alone.” “Sweet heart,” Her eyes filled with empathy and pity. You hated that. “Max is gone. He-” “No.” You looked away from her, not wanting to listen.

“You came to me, remember? That night.” She put a hand on your shoulder. “When-” “No no. Please.” You turned shushing her. “Okay, Okay.” You took the ring off, putting it on your table. Max gulped at the sight of the ring being off your finger. He kept staring between you and the diamond. “Y/N, please put it back on.” He tried to tell you but you ignored him.

“Y/N.” He tried to tell you again. “You should have stayed home.” She pulled you in a hug, and you’d accepted it immediately. “Come stay with me for a few days.” the woman told you, patting your back gently. You flinched hearing Max shout your name. “Put the goddamn fucking ring on.” So that must be what’s keeping him here, what’s gotten him so worked up.

“You need to let go. I know it’s hard. The bre--” “Shut up.” you cut her off, taking a step back. “Y/N it’s not healthy. It wasn’t your fault. I understand why you bro--” “No!” You cut her off shaking your head. “I don’t want to hear any more of it. I already have to live with it as is.” She sighed, slumping her shoulders. She watched as you walked around your little nice station, stuffing your belongings in your purse. “And yes, it was my fault.”

Your co-worker didn’t have time to argue because you were already out the door to the studio. Max ran to follow you but he found his feet glued to the ground, not letting him get more that five steps far. 

He felt his eyes tear up. What was going on? He looked back at the right, watching your friend put it in your drawer so it doesn’t get lost.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was too quiet now. You found yourself sat in a random cafe, head resting on your folded arms. Your finger was bare and your ears were empty from Max’s constant talking. This gave you a lot of time to think. Even if you didn’t want to.

If you never had that talk with your co-worker would you have lived the rest of your life like that? You loved max, but guilt swirled in your stomach. It drove you sick, knowing you could’ve helped him cross over, but instead you were going to be selfish and keep him from himself. 

You haven’t even told him the truth. You’d changed up the telling of recent events to hide it from him. You lied to him. You didn’t deserve his trust. You didn’t deserve him at all. He was sitting back in that building all alone right now and it was way past closing. The sun was dark, and probably so was the room. You shouldn’t have left him there.

The walk back was quick and quiet. You used your spare key to enter the studio and immediately heard sobs. Flicking the lights on, you went to your space seeing Max sitting under the table, looking at your drawers. The ring wasn’t where you left it, someone must’ve put it away so it doesn't get lost.

“You left me.” You paused, the drawer half way open. You could see the diamond with the golden band looking back at you with anger. “You fucking left me, Y/N.” You gulped down, looking at the teen who held so much anger in his expression. 

“I’ve been waiting here all day. For you.” You looked down in shame. There was no excuse for that. Taking the ring, you sat beside him holding the ring between your fingers, you looked between him and the band. “I’m sorry, Max. I needed to think.” “Without me?!” He was growing attached and obsessive. “Put the fucking ring on.” He told you again. “I-- I can't.” You shook your head.

“Y/N my existence in this world fucking relies on you wearing that ring. I need you to put it on.” You stayed quiet, not bearing to look at him. The quiet from earlier helped you think. You should probably do the right thing. “I want to show you something.” You got up and Max had no other choice but to follow you.

[cannoli-reader]

My Notes from Watching the Wheel of Time Show, season 1, episode 6

Originally posted on 12/10/2021. Possible spoilers for any or all WoT novels.

I skipped watching this when I went to Prime Video for that purpose, because an episode of "The Expanse" had dropped. This might have been the first time since 1992 that I have ever prioritized other media over new WoT content.

1:30 - Is this a Belter in the world of WoT? The hammock and hut suggest poverty, but those are some fancy tattoos for a child.

1:48 - Li’l Siuan is from a primitive fishing tribe, rather than an urban dock district

2:31 - Okay, that looked like a city in the background, so maybe their hut is in the Fingers of the Dragon. Probably not an important distinction, but it’s a thing about Tear that the High Lords exercise tight control over the area, and would not likely allow people to settle in the Fingers, for no other reason than to prevent anyone getting an navigational advantage over their own pilots.

3:15 - “A wise woman knows the breaking point of her line,” is a very interesting comment, given that’s a lesson that Book-Siuan utterly failed to learn her entire life.

4:14 - Always with the tragic backstories.

5:20 - I guess this is a cheap way of having her sent to the Tower, without having to hire an actor to play the authority figure or a group of extras to play a mob who compel her departure.

8:27 - Liandrin’s actual braids make an appearance!

8:41 - I can’t but notice they have yellow-washed the canonically Arabic, Leane Sharif, and at best are subbing in the background character with a hijab and no lines.

9:45 - I wonder if those are Accepted uniforms, or if this is supposed to be some sort of female guard force.

11:33 - This is a good way, I guess, of expositing the Tower’s grasp on the world is slipping, and they even found a natural way for someone like Logain to demonstrate that knowledge, without compromising too much the concept of proprietary channeling information or Tower secrets. And the fact that outsiders generally don’t make much, if any, distinction between Ajahs is already undermined by their propensity for color-coded garb.

11:36 - I wondered in the trailer why Leane looked so pissed. That explains it.

11:59 - “I am not so easily fooled” says Siuan, commenting on Logain’s factual statement (I assume it is; why bring it up otherwise, unless you’re looking to shit on the books just because). Do they realize this is not making her actually smart?

Also, that silly wing thing on the front of her ridiculous dress looks like it might be the Amyrlin’s stole.

12:35 - Logain is to be kept captive until he “lose(s him)self entirely to the madness”. Gentling stops you from going mad. That’s the justification for doing it, as opposed to just killing them on sight.

14:00 - Not for nothing, but Liandrin has a point. That it is what she wanted to do anyway does not change that fact.

14:09 - Siuan’s reference to the rules of engagement doesn’t make much sense here either, since killing is on the list and Liandrin has already pointed out that they managed not to resort to the last extreme. This just looks like a bureaucrat passing judgment on actions taken in the exigencies of combat. And considering we spent a whole episode on the tragic response to the consequences of Logain’s breaking free, we really should be considering Logain lucky to be alive.

But having the normally smooth and cool Liandrin’s voice breaking and sounding stressed and panicky seems like the show is trying to say she’s wrong and Siuan is this supreme font of wisdom and fair-mindedness

17:00 - Liandrin is really coming across as speaking truth to power, even if she is being portrayed as a troublemaker.

18:58 - My general motto with regard to the Tower ITB is Voltaire’s ecrasez l’infame. Siuan’s tirade suggests the show version won’t be much better despite the girl-power vibes I get from everything else about it.

21:20 - The subtitles call the innkeeper in Tar Valon “Basel Gill”. A character defined in the book by his devotion to the Queen of Andor and his loyalty to friends, including charity to a couple of friends of friends, has been repurposed as a Tar Valon innkeeper who charges high prices to the same kids Book-Gill took in and fed for the sake of a mutual friend.

21:53 - “It’s nice to see you, too” snarks the guy who has done nothing to make contact with Rand and Mat for a whole episode while he was preoccupied by personal bullshit instead of the candidates for savior of the world.

22:00 - I suspect Barney Harris is being replaced, because his moans of sickness sound more like there should be another person in the bed with him.

23:30 - So much better done ITB. No reason I can see for the changes, aside from Moiraine being the clear authorial favorite. They give her the lightning reflexes to stop Mat’s attack, and made Rand an encumbrance who distracted Lan from being the one to catch Mat.

25:16 - So Mat has to be watched lest he touch the dagger again, says Moiraine, after leaving the room to the person who followed her out. Even if the dagger is on Lan’s person, they still left it in the room with Mat, and we can’t really say this version of Lan is as good as a safe for holding objects secure, given how differently he has been portrayed from the Book version.

25:36 - Moiraine would absolutely say something like this. The problem is, the show seems to be on her side, when ITB (and on the show) she has given them little reason to trust her. How are the Two Rivers people supposed to trust she would not have treated Mat as an impediment to her mission and offed him like the ferry?

26:45 - Okay, Maigan’s agreeing with me about Siuan, but on the other hand, she’s also denouncing a Green for speaking on behalf of a Red, just because they had fought together and she believed the Red to be in the right. So it’s a crazy whacky world, when Aes Sedai display integrity? Sisters choosing the truth over factional rivalries is the equivalent of dogs and cats living together?

27:15 - One of the pseudo-feminists’ greatest whines criticisms about the book series is the frequency of nudity. Now, we are not subjected to descriptions of the women’s bodies, and it is seldom in a sexual context or with gratuitous sexual connotations for ordinary nudity, but, fair enough. Women get undressed a lot. But on a TV show, with a female writer and director, where actual human beings have to get undressed and partially display their bodies in context that encourages the viewer to see them as naked, we get an inserted bathhouse scene (not to mention an inserted sex scene and a prior bathing scene with similar display of female bodies, in the pilot), where women are striking poses & lit so as to draw attention to their uncovered skin. ‘Rules for thee and not for me’ feminism.

28:33 - Okay, why is she keeping their survival a secret? That’s pointless even for Book Moiraine.

29:05 - Please don’t give us more melting scenes for these rings.

29:15 - That angle, for a second, made the crease of Perrin’s shoulder look like Egwene’s buttcrack.

29:22 - How did they get Perrin here if the damage is so bad?

29:57 - They are doing a good job of keeping the camera on Egwene’s right profile and the other side in shadow to conceal Madeline Madden’s nosewart.

31:00 - Moiraine is leaving the kids alone, in two separate establishments, with no trustworthy supervision.

31:42 - ITB Moiraine does not think of the Two Rivers folk as friends, no matter how benevolent her actions, because she knows she might have to do something horrible to them for the greater good. She never even indicates any care for, or affection toward, them in her stream of consciousness. Show-Moiraine, whose treatment and behavior toward them has been considerably less benevolent and friendly, on a mere month’s acquaintance, most of it spent apart from all but Nynaeve, has even less reason to use that term.

32:04 - Okay, Lan’s going to stand watch, but over whom? They are in two different places and neither group knows the other is alive.

32:16 - She’s leaving them unattended to get laid?! I am just assuming. As I may have said previously, the sector of the fandom toward whom this show appears to be pandering tends to ship Moiraine and Siuan, so that's how I take the "give her my love." Only now the shippers are going to whine that we are deprived of the implied poly relationship with Lan and presumably Siuan's warder, too.

33:12 - Oh, so they have Traveling. What’s the nonsense limitation they are going to claim for why they have not used whatever this is for something more important than secret-sexy-times meetings?

33:24 - I bet Siuan’s dad could have afforded a second rowboat for the price of all those tattoos. Edit: 'kay, she got some as an adult.

34:05 - And now celibacy is a thing for the Amyrlin? And Moiraine’s “when have we ever followed the rules” in this context is not about going around petty restrictions or thinking outside the box or doing what must be done, so much as “rules don’t apply to us, because we’re all we care about.” While I might not agree with a rule of celibacy in this case, the point is generally to demonstrate the priority one places on the institution that requires it. So being Amyrlin is important, but Siuan & Moiraine hold themselves and their feelings more important. Which is super hypocritical considering the level of supremacy she is declaring in the Hall.

36:20 - Okay, the Dragon’s soul being split up is dumb, because it makes them all partial people. A soul IS a person. Bodies are just like clothes. This is the reality, even if you don’t believe in souls and use the word merely to mean the essential component of a person or concept or object. So, best case scenario, what they are saying is that the most important thing about the Dragon is his power and status. What he is, not who he is. And never mind that’s 180 degrees in opposition to the message of the books, for every character.

And if they are not actually doing this, and there is only the one Dragon Reborn, this is a stupid diversionary speculation.

36:33 - “You think I’ve forgotten that?” Moiraine asks in response to Siuan’s admonition that they will be stilled if anyone else discovers what they are up to. Um, yeah, Moiraine. It looks very much like you forgot that, since your immediately prior line of dialogue was suggesting that you tell lots of people what they are up to, and create the conditions for that to happen!

Moiraine: We should tell lots of people Siuan: If anyone finds out, we will be punished. Moiraine: Did you think I had forgotten that? Me: Well, since you don't seem to remember your own immediately previous statement, that's a fair guess.

36:37 - Is it weird that their post-coital garments are different than what they were wearing to bed before Moiraine came to Siuan’s room? Especially since Moiraine is wearing something more revealing than what she had on when she approached her sexual partner?

38:50 - Sacrificing a bunch of people for a stupid plan to beat the Dark One through a loophole is pretty in-character for Siuan.

39:41 - Why does Liandrin keep describing things wrong? “Nursed back to health” is not remotely an accurate way to describe Healing.

40:02 - I don’t know what’s dumber in this fan-fiction adaptational change: the Reds doing horrible things to men suspected of fooling around with their Ajah sisters, and the implication that the Red Ajah has explicit anti-male policies (nearly every non-Darkfriend PoV Red ITB has male sexual partners), or Moiraine overlooking a Darkfriend meeting place by underestimating Liandrin. Or worst of all, the Reds would not do anything to a mere trysting partner, therefore Liandrin’s association with him is a serious crime (such as treason or Darkfriend stuff) and Moiraine is in sole possession of this knowledge of Liandrin, but is letting it go unreported for blackmail purposes.

40:18 - Loial’s shoes are clearly just to make him look taller. With little success.

40:45 - Moiraine is as giddy as a YouTube fan reviewer at her encounter with Loial. Why?

41:22 - Nosewart! Fitting it gets a moment in the spotlight as the show is doing a bit of metatextual snarking. It’s not clever to bring that sort of thing up without a good answer, because it just looks like you are mocking the work you needed to crib from in order to get a job yourself. See, no one would pay for a show entirely from the mind of the Coffee Fetcher for the Good Seasons of Game of Thrones, so Rafe needs a best-selling fantasy novel series to get that level of attention. It’s not clever of him to use his show to criticize much more successful writers.

And the obvious answer to the issue of the throne and office holding the same name is that the point is the woman is subsumed into the office, that in her official capacity she is acting as the institution, not the person. Furthermore, it’s only confusing to morons, as a person and an inanimate object will almost never be discussed in the same practical context. Telling a servant to clean the Amyrlin Seat is unlikely to result in a feather duster being applied to Siuan, and describing the actions or policies of the Amyrlin Seat are unlikely to cause one to confusedly assume the chair has become animate. Unless nosewarts are a symptom of some sort of brain disease.

41:30 - One unfortunate consequence of the loss of royalty and whatnot is that people keep trying to make up stories of it without having any idea how it works. The Amyrlin Seat would not request an audience with a peasant girl still in her fake-Scottish skirt. All they had to do was copy the book dialogue where people receive a summons to an audience with the Amyrlin, not a request for an audience. And if the point of the change is to show the Tower as somehow egalitarian, the entire rest of the episode has epically failed in that regard.

41:40 - Nosewart.

41:40 - Also, Nynaeve’s question of Lan is really really dumb. I’ll just write it off as an honest attempt to show Nynaeve’s attitude of constantly questioning and refusing to be dictated to and charitably just assume the writers are simply incompetent to execute that depiction through dialogue.

41:57 - Is it possible for TV women to describe their actions without humble-bragging?

42:08 - Stating that Siuan waits for only one woman, when the Amyrlin is, by her own words, the highest ranking person in the world, just invites speculation as to whom she waits for, and how Moiraine is so certain of that fact. For someone keeping so many pointless secrets, Moiraine sucks at intrigue.

42:48 - A het man demanding that the two attractive young women come closer would be seen as creepy. So why not the equally gynosexual Siuan?

42:45 - Nynaeve does not bow. Actually, ITB, Nynaeve would make a half-hearted effort but get it wrong, because she could not care less about crap like that. But this is okay.

43:02 - If that was an allusion to Egwene’s nosewart, it was extremely rude, Siuan! And stop trying to steal my joke across the fourth wall!

43:16 - Egwene visibly deflating when Siuan names Nynaeve is the best thing ever to appear on a screen!

43:20 - And they immediately ruin it with Nynaeve’s stupid response. How is that even an insult, let alone a burn? Nynaeve would not expect people to be impressed with her strength, but she would also not mock the Tower for being weak, because she cares about the person, not their strength. Her “comeback” demonstrates exactly the reverse.

43:54 - Nynaeve does not use bad words! Not “ass” in the real world or “smoke” in WoT! And she’s not deliberately rude. She thinks “Go away, we don’t want your help” is being polite, but she doesn’t try to offend people for shits and giggles, especially powerful people who could make trouble for her or her companions.

44:53 - Egwene silently turning to go in support of a friend from back home, especially turning away from a person of power who is tacitly offering power or the chance to effect significant events, is even more OoC than the Nynaeve & Siuan stuff.

45:03 - In my headcanon, that reaction shot of Moiraine, as Siuan saying “The Wheel does not care…” is her biting back the comment that the Wheel can’t care anymore than it can want.

45:42 - Nosewart! It’s like she’s leading with it!

45:46 - Egwene: “…what do we need to do?” Siuan: glances at Moiraine Me: I hope she’s not proposing a foursome.

46:03 - Please, not another ring-melting, please.

46:30 - Last episode, Moiraine said Tar Valon and/or the Tower is not her home. So what’s with the waterworks, especially when her imminent sentencing in the Hall has been prearranged? If Siuan is the great love of her life it hurts so much to leave, instead of a Friends With Benefits deal, why’d she say that last episode?

47:28 - More than ¾ of the way through 1/8 of the season and we’ve got nothing from this episode except a sex scene. It makes me extremely suspicious of the intent in the slow, lingering close-up shot of Moiraine kissing the Amyrlin’s ring.

48:09 - Siuan is saying a lot of stuff everyone in the room should know already. And if this is a sacred object, why use it so casually? If she is already bound to speak only the truth, why not simply make her promise to do what she’s told? If that Oath was not binding on her, why bother with another go-round?

I’m not even going to bother with the colossal deviation from the books of using the Oath Rod for an ordinary punishment.

49:38 - Why is her ear gilded?

And what is the point of all these compliments? Not the time or place, especially if the whole point of her sentencing is to conceal their relationship and collusion from everyone, especially the Hall. Siuan’s fall is going to literally be Moiraine’s fault, with this pointless shipper-fan-service dialogue.

53:06 - Are Moiraine’s tears blinding her to the giant samurai hiding behind the hill?

53:50 - Ordinary Shienarans call Loial “Builder” out of respect for his people having built their lost city. Moiraine calls him Loial and treats him like a kid because A. he is and B. it keeps him in line. And IIRC, it was made very clear ITB why he is called that. I feel like a WoT Novice will be expecting him to finish whatever that structure is behind Moiraine.

54:02 - Why are Perrin & Egwene accompanying Loial with whom they are onscreen for the first time? Why is the group not together, instead traveling so far apart Moiraine cannot see the different elements of the group across this wide stretch of clear ground?

54:09 - Why is Perrin smiling? What or how does Perrin feel about anything, when he has had no dialogue in this episode, and before it, was last seen lurching out of the Children's camp?

54:27 - Rand & Egwene’s reaction suggests they have not actually been in contact offscreen this whole time, so again, why is Loial with her and not him?

55:09 - Even if the horses can’t go into the Ways, you could take the luggage off, in case you need it, or at the least, take off their tack. That’s not a good way to leave horses unattended.

55:16 - Is there a point to changing it so horses can’t survive the Ways, besides saving on the horse budget?

56:21 - The fandom defense of Moiraine’s secrecy, that she could not trust the Two Rivers folk is exceedingly stupid and not in keeping with her other actions and behavior toward them. Having her claim that she was keeping secrets because she could not trust them, but now has come to know them after a month+ apart (and being unconscious before and throughout Shadar Logoth) is even dumber.

57:07 - Egwene would never for a moment entertain the idea that the Dragon is anyone but her. And in the face of her own apotheosis, she would not have much thought to spare for the fates or cost of others. Not necessarily out of malice, just considerations of power, status and advancement take up a disproportionate share of her attention.

57:26 - Loial’s expression is like “Um, have I just agreed to help a psychopath plug the Bore with teenage bodies?”

57:50 - If you need to channel to use the Ways, isn’t that largely defeating their point in the story?

58:24 - Why did we need three different reaction shots of people who can’t see what Moiraine is doing?

58:49 - “It’s too late to turn back. Whatever happens is beyond our control…” Does that include the choice to turn back? Because that kind of feels like a dumb answer to the half-facetious question about changing one’s mind.

59:02 - “The Wheel Weaves as the Wheel Wills” says the person who pedantically denied any such agency to the Wheel a few episodes ago.

1:00:10 - Can’t wait to see how this latest “improvement” is going to play out. It’s funny because just the other day, a browser feed had an article saying how the show has improved on the books by not keeping the cast separated for so long.

[didisteponurmoment]

“I Like you too, by the way” WandaNat

Warnings: smut +18

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Summary:  When the power is out, Natasha and Wanda talk about feelings

Words: 2212

A/N: I need to write to avoid my reality so feel free to send some requests in. I didn't double-check this and English is not my first language so lmk if there some awful mistake

It seems like this rain isn’t ever gonna stop and Wanda and Natasha are stuck at the avengers compound. Wanda, being the new one in the group is still getting used to living with the rest of the team, but she has gotten really close to Natasha, the girl Wanda had been having a crush on since she first arrived six months ago. Everyone is on a mission and even tough Nat knows enough to relaunch the power, she is enjoying the company of the witch a little too much to try and fix the lights.

The whole vibe just got so romantic. Candles are placed around the room because the lights are out due to the storm (duh), nice old music playing from Wanda’s battery radio and two glasses of red wine are settled on the table. isn’t it perfect? Wanda’s heart pounds and she gets the whole world’s excitement in her stomach. Her powers let her sense the calm in the older woman, making her wonder if this was a good time to make a move on her.

“Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate? bring you a blanket? it’s kinda cold,” Wanda says as Natasha smiles and nods unknowingly. Wanda is a nervous mess, she goes to the kitchen to make drinks and also to calm herself down. “it’s alright, it’s fine. she’s just a girl, chill,” Wanda whispers to herself but it doesn’t work at all, so the only thing left to do is to go back to Natasha, who is already missing the young girl's company.

“Oh there’s only one blanket for the two of us,” Nat says moving around the room, “I know there were more of them but I can't find them.”

“It’s fine, you can have it.”

“No, we definitely should share it! I mean I don’t want you to freeze,” The spy smirks and makes Wanda wonder why she has such an influence on her. “Come here, Detka,” The Russian says almost seductively and Wanda shyly gets closer to her. They both keep talking comfortably, about missions, gossip about their teammates, and just life in the most comfortable way. Suddenly, Wanda feels Natasha’s hand slowly making its way around her shoulders.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” it sort of slips out of Wanda’s mouth and she hopes it was quiet enough so that Nat didn't hear it. The older woman smirks and answers without hesitation

“yea me too. you’re a great cuddler, by the way,” Wanda’s cheeks grow red, but she senses some sort of weird intoxicating feeling coming from the older girl: it’s now or never, so she places her hand on Natasha’s lap, not inappropriately but definitely with a hint in the move.

“is it okay?” Wanda asks

“yeah” Natasha says with a soft look in her eyes, “which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Wanda attempts to move so she can see the olders girl face better but instead of it she only spills her drink on her sweater.

“Oh, Detka, you better take it off,” Natasha says so wanda did as she was told.

“So what was the thing you wanted to talk to me about?”

“it’s kinda hard to talk to you when you’re shirtless. you know, you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

Wanda blushes as she mumbles something like “no way.”

“I was actually meaning to tell you that I really like you.”

This surprised Wanda, even with her powers that could have placed her a step ahead from everyone, she didnt consider the idea of her feelings being reciprocated. She doesn’t even think about the next thing she does, pulling Nat closer by her jacket and pressing her lips on hers. a second later Natasha is kissing her back.

“Is that a yes?” she giggles.

“what was the question again?” Wanda smirks but she doesn’t get any response because Nat’s hand is aleready making her way up from Wanda’s waist to her boobs from under her sweater. Her lips are on the sokovian’s neck, beating softly. Rather unexpectedly, Wanda feels a really gentle touch around her right nipple on top of her delicate lacy bra.

“Is that okay, Detka?” Natasha asks again and Wanda doesn’t feel like joking anymore.

“Yes,” she gets to say under her breath as the older girl leaves a small kiss on wanda’s rosy cheeks, her eyes closed and her mouth is a little open craving another kiss.

Wanda spent a lot of time wondering how Natasha would feel under her touch, but she never thought she’d be so soft and patient when it comes to physical contact. It suddenly gets hotter as Natasha undoes the witch’s bra and Wanda pulls her top off of her, She stares at her and at the skin just exposed and bites her lip, lost in her toughts for a minute.

“Like what you see, malyshka?” The spy asks, a large smirk covers her face and Wanda sheepishly nods, feeling her cheeks turn red and her body freezing for a second until Natasha’s soft laugh brings her back in. Eyes wonder on her body and hands finally move, reaching her waist and brushing her fingers against it.

A small chuckle escaped Nat’s lips as Wanda uses her power to disappear the top across the room and uses her hands to caress the older girl’s back as she leans on Wanda again.

"Weren’t you shy just a minute ago?” Nat says smirking and attaching her lips to Wanda’s neck. Nat lips are back in the witch’s mouth before she can think of an answer and she sucks on her lip harshly, getting a shaky breath out of The other girl’s mouth, who moves her hands to the spy’s back and doubts, stopping herself.

“Uh Tasha, is this okay?” Wanda asks looking for her eyes shyly.

Natasha stares and laughs lightly, leaning putting her lips right above mines “oh Detka, are we gonna keep asking that all night?” Her lips brush on Wandas lips as she talks, and she licks the lips reassuringly. Wanda closes her eyes and a little breath escapes lips, she feels a smirk on the other girl as Natasha leads Wanda’s hands to her back again and she unclasps her bra with them.

Wanda feels her mouth fall open as Natasha’s boobs bounce against her frame and lets out a little groan. The spy lips attack her neck, without asking this time, and she starts sucking on the spot under wanda’s ear making a real and loud moan escape her lips. She moves away and stares.

”I’ve been dreaming of hearing that for a long time, Detka” she says biting her lip.

Wanda’s breath stops for a second before a sudden shot of braveness enters to her body.

”Have you, Tasha?” she began asking as the confidence that hit her leads her hands to grip her waist tightly ”what else have you been dreaming about hm?”

She smiles knowingly, She was totally waiting for that question since ever and as the spy she is, wanda wouldnt be surprised if she indeed saw it coming.

“Let me show you instead,” she says pinning Wanda’s hands above her head and moving her kisses from her mouth to her neck, where she sucks, leaving a mark probably. Wanda is about to say something, trying to come up with a bold response, when her teeth nibble on the sweet spot right beneath her ear and she can’t help herself but moan out loud.

“Well, they sound better than I thought they would”

“I feel underestimated, Natty” Wanda answers rising her eyebrow.

“Then you can prove me wrong when I’m done with you” she replies after biting the witch's lip.

Wanda’s chest is going up and down when Natasha’s lustful eyes land on her boobs.

Wanda feels how she could probably cum just by seeing the older girl looking at her that way. She smirks again as she leans forward to kiss the top of the left breast, taking her time to admire it before moving to the other one. Her mouth made its way to Wanda’s nipples. Wanda freezes as she watches the scene and Natasha takes her hard nipple into her mouth, gently kneading the soft flesh with her hand.

The moans start spilling the younger girl's mouth and she bites her lip to prevent them from leaving her body. The spy lips meet Wanda’s suddenly, her tongue opening her mouth and those little moans escaping right into her mouth. Natasha's body shivers when Wanda breathes into her for the first time and she bites her lip harshly, suddenly turning her kiss more aggressive with that simple act.

Wanda’s fingers tangle in the spy’s hair, pulling it a bit when her hands caress her stomach. She moves her hands up to pamper Wanda’s nipples, her moans growing louder as she unconsciously shifts her body so she can grind down on her thighs.

“Shit,” Nat says in a moan when she realizes Wanda’s intentions “you sure?” She asks looking for approval in her eyes.

Wanda just nods blushing and Nat whimpers pulling away from her chest, untying the other girls shorts and quickly working to get them down as she giggles.

“Take off your pants, Tasha” Wanda whispers, as she covers her body with the blanket and waits for her to get rid of her skinny jeans. She smiles sliding the ripped material off her, and her panties quickly following. Wanda giggles lightly as Nat leans down, moving her body underneath the blanket and leaving a kiss on the stomach right above Wanda’s panties.

“You ready Detka?” She whispers when her fingers tucked into the hem of the Lacey underway making the girl shiver at the contact.

“Go for it” Wanda breathes out as her underwear is being sledded down her thighs and kisses are pressed down each leg as skin gets exposed.

She moans, don’t even trying to hold anything back and using the blanket to cover her upper body and leaving Nat’s head under it.

Nat hands are really cold when she first touches Wanda and so she shivers, Her finger Grazes all the way from the belly button to Wanda’s clit, adding pressure when she reaches it.

Wanda shudders and Nat laughs from under the blanket and moves the blanket to free her head and the younger girl's legs. Wanda just looks at her body in awe during the whole process, from when she’s kneeling down in front of her under the blankets to when she moves out if it. The cold wind hits on the place Natasha just left and wanda squirms. Natasha laughs again, staring at the other girls body in silence and realizing how she is feeling when she moves.

“We have time, malyshka, They won’t be back until tomorrow” she says looking at her eyes and brushing her fingers against her boobs from under the blanket.

Natasha removes the blanket fully and Without saying another word she straddles Wanda’s waist facing her legs. She gets the blanket again covering both of them as She lows herself and starts playing the sokovian’s clit, testing the reactions she is getting to guide her out.

Wanda can feel Natasha's wetness on her stomach and moves her hands to her ass, squeezing on it doubtfully and receiving a moan in return, which makes Nat blow air on Wanda’s core, earning a groan from her.

Natasha stops her fingers and Wanda panics, wondering if she has done something wrong or if the older girl was regretting the encounter until she feels wet fingers on her hand.

She holds Wanda’s hand and leads it slowly into her pussy. Once again Wanda moans when she feels the wetness and Nat laughs. Then the witch finally dares to move her fingers shyly, and now Nat is the one moaning.

Natasha lets go of wanda’s hand and moves back to her own business, she separates the witch’s pussy lips and licks. Once, twice,the sokovian’s breath gets faster. Wanda doubts for a minute and she gets Narasha’s butt closer to her face until she gets the idea, too busy moaning to actually explain her plans.

Nat tights straddle wanda’s face carefully. She goes down again. She knows Wanda is close and decides to add her fingers to the mix.

Wanda looks up to find her pussy, glistening and dripping, she holds her ass and Nat laughs lightly the witch’s center before receiving her mouth for the first time. All her control disappears and she starts moving against the tongue, riding Wanda’s face and making her reach an orgasm on the way.

As Wanda cums, she can feel Natasha’s tongue eating her dry and turning fast for a deep kiss where she could savor herself.

Wanda pulls the russian up again afterwards, she’s looking down at her now and the way her boobs bounce with her breathing shows Wanda how close she is. In fact, she is probably holding back.

“Cum for me Tasha” Wanda groans just a second before she gets to taste Nat’s release on her mouth and feels her body lying on top of hers after.

“I like you too, by the way”

“Oh yeah, I think I noticed”

[scuttling]

Paper Rings

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 10,191 Tags: SFW, Fluff, Literature, Friends to lovers, Everyone thinks they're dating, There was only one bed, Some angst with a happy ending, Confessing love in the rain, TW fire and blood/wound Summary: Some of my favorite tropes rolled into one cute fic inspired by Taylor Swift's Paper Rings. (lyrics and music) Link to A03 or read below! “Good morning, my friendly neighborhood crime fighters,” Penelope says as she enters the briefing room, wearing a dress that is bright bubblegum pink, with fingerless gloves and glasses to match. You, Derek, and Spencer groan your replies, because you just got home from a case last night, with less than seven hours between arriving at your apartment and returning to the office, and that is everyone’s least favorite thing.

You can’t deny that her typical sunny disposition makes you smile a little bit brighter, but you’re still exhausted, and even your usual extra large travel mug of breakfast blend is barely taking the edge off.

That’s probably why, when Aaron enters with trays of steaming espresso drinks from the cafe down the street, and a striped box of donuts, you act like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh my god, I love you. Thank you, I love you.” He got an array of basic drinks based on everyone’s usual orders, and you scan for one that has something with latte, but he takes one out and hands it to you, smiling when you take a sip and sigh—okay, he’s smiling with his eyes, but you are well versed in his body language and facial expressions, and he’s practically grinning at getting your order (triple one pump hazelnut extra hot latte) correct.

You are not the only one to notice.

“Get a room, you two; it’s just coffee,” Derek says, taking the white mocha from the tray and drinking half of it in one sip. “Now if you tell me there’s a bear claw in there, I’ll confess my undying love too.”

“I don’t know; I asked for an assortment,” he says, and it’s clear he did, but your cup has your name on it; you cover the ink with your hand and take another grateful sip. “I do know there’s a plain glazed in there, though,” he says a bit lower, just for you, and you smile, give his wrist a squeeze, and dive for it before Jennifer Jareau can get her hands on it.

That’s all the morning meeting consists of—bickering and bantering and caffeine and carb consumption—and when the group disperses, you follow Aaron to his office and sit down in the chair across from his.

“Thanks again for breakfast. You definitely raised the morale of the troops,” you say with a sip of your perfect latte, and he shares the hint of a smile.

“You’re welcome. It helps that you’re all so easy to appease.” He flips open his bag, pulls out a small, worn, paperback book, tosses it toward you. You pick it up, run your hand over the well-loved cover, and hum.

“The Call of the Wild—this made it into the Aaron Hotchner Nightstand Collection?” He arches a brow.

“It’s so overrated that it’s underrated; no one ever actually reads it, they just assume they know what it’s about. It’s a great book, if you’ll give it a chance.”

“Hey, you’ve read all of mine without complaint; of course I’ll give it a chance.” You take the last, sad sip of your latte and stand up, point out the door with your thumb. “Speaking of, mine’s still downstairs on my desk. I’ll be right back.”

Exchanging books started as an offhand comment one night, on a flight home from Georgia, when he’d mentioned that he never buys new books, only cycles through the same ten or twelve he’s been reading since college. He knows what he likes, finds something different in the text each time he reads, and you’d found something so profoundly beautiful about that that you’d asked for the list. You wanted to know more about the books that tug at his emotions enough that he’s read them day in and day out for over twenty years with no boredom in sight.

He’d done you one better, said he’d be happy to lend them to you, if you’d like, and that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Seeing college-aged Aaron’s notes in the margins of battered paperback novels was a prospect too good to be true.

Of course, you couldn’t accept the gesture without returning one of your own, so you’d offered to share your favorite books with him too, only... you don’t exactly give him your favorite books. You purposefully buy the cheesiest romance novels you can get your hands on, pass them off to him while he hands you poignant, classic novels that have won literary awards and Nobel prizes.

Today’s is called Lord of Scoundrels, complete with a shirtless man on the cover, kissing a woman with dark, flowing hair and a light blue dress; you snicker the whole way to your desk and back up to his office—earning curious glances from the rest of the team—and when you drop it on the desk in front of Aaron, you watch closely for a reaction.

As usual, he doesn’t really give you one, just flips the book over, skims the summary on the back, and nods.

“Sounds interesting,” he says, and your heart does a little flip.

He could easily hand the book back, laugh in your face, refuse to read something so clearly out of his wheelhouse, but he thinks these novels are important to you, and he never fails to read them, offering his favorite parts the same way you do for his.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t.

“I think you’ll really like it. Sebastian and Jessica start out kind of indifferent toward each other, but the more they interact, the more they find they have in common. It’s very acquaintances to friends to lovers, if you’re into that.” He looks up with an expression you place as uncertainty, even if you’re not quite sure the reason for it. You smile softly. “I should get to work, but thanks for the book. I’ll see you at lunch?”

It’s been so nice lately that you started taking your lunch outside, sitting on a bench beneath a huge, shady oak tree, and Aaron had taken to doing the same; you both quickly realized it was stupid to sit outside together, apart, so you meet up in the bullpen now and walk out side by side, spend the hour talking about your books or the team or Jack or life in general. He shakes the uncertain expression, nods his head.

“Of course. Thank you,” he says with a wave of the book, and you head back downstairs to start your day.

You’ve become mostly accustomed to the feeling, but it still surprises you a little when all that gets you through the day is thinking about your next conversation with Aaron. A week later, you’re on a case in Pittsburgh, and you and Aaron are paired up to room together. That’s nothing unusual—it seems like you’ve been rooming together more often than not lately, which is fine by you; he’s tidy, quiet, always interested in a late night snack, pretty much the perfect roommate—but when he opens the door and you step inside, the single king size bed in the middle of the room takes you by surprise.

“Uh… do you think it’s a mistake? Or maybe they just ran out of doubles?” you suggest; he's kind of frozen in place, and while it’s not ideal, you know it’s not actually going to be a problem. You’ve shared a bed with JJ before, and Spencer, and even though you don’t feel the same way about them as you do about Aaron, you think you can manage a couple nights in close quarters.

“Probably just ran out of doubles,” he agrees after a moment; he doesn’t bring up calling the front desk to ask for another room, so you don’t either, just hang your clothes and head into the bathroom to change into your pajamas and do your nightly routine.

It’s a little awkward at first, and you don’t know why; over the last six months or so, he’s actually become your closest friend on the team, and conversation usually comes easily, but silence settles over the room uncomfortably as you slip between the sheets on your side of the bed.

He goes into the bathroom, does his own nightly routine, then comes out in his pajamas and turns on CNN.

You take out your book, pay no attention to Aaron, but the longer he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the news ticker on the television screen but not actually watching it, the more you wish he’d just get over himself and come to bed. If he’s trying to wait for you to fall asleep, he’s going to be waiting a while.

“So you were right; I love Buck,” you say as a way to start some conversation, to bring some normalcy to this unusual situation. You hold up the book you’re reading, the one he let you borrow. “His struggle between remaining loyal to his owner and answering the call of the wild—I love dogs, but I never imagined a book about a dog could be so moving.”

He turns back with a soft smile, then switches off the tv and heads over to his side of the bed; he pulls back the comforter, slides between the sheets, meets you toward the middle of the bed.

“I told you you’d like it; what chapter are you on?” He leans over to look, so close it wouldn’t take much to lift a hand and brush it over his hair; it looks unfairly soft, and part of you wants to card your fingers through it, to tug on it and mess it up a little. He probably wouldn’t even mind if you did.

“Chapter 7—I only have a few pages left.” You snuggle more comfortably against your pillow, lean into his shoulder, and move the book so it’s more evenly between you. “Want to finish it with me?”

He does, and you read silently at a similar pace; he reaches up to turn the pages, and you think about how these hands have flipped through this book so many times before, what he might have been thinking, feeling, while reading. It’s a more intimate act than you’ve shared with anyone in a really long time.

When you finish the book, you sigh, let the feeling of reading a really great story envelope you; you turn to face Aaron, and he’s looking at you… and then there’s a knock at the door that startles you both.

He gets up, walks over and checks the peep hole, then opens the door.

“Are you sure?” you hear JJ ask, and he steps back so she can enter the room; when she sees you tucked snugly into the middle of the bed, she shoots you a soft smile and mouths you’re welcome, which makes absolutely no sense without context. You’ll have to bring it up to her later and ask what exactly you’re supposed to be thanking her for.

“So you said the detective called?” Aaron prompts her, and she looks away from you, nods.

“Yes, he wanted me to ask if we could have a few agents meet him at the second crime scene tomorrow instead of the precinct, figured it could save a little time.” Aaron looks confused, like he doesn’t see why this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow, but he ultimately agrees.

“Sure. You, Reid, and Prentiss can head straight there, if that’s what he wants. I’ll let them know in the morning.” JJ nods, and looks over at you, and then back at Aaron, who makes a kind but curious face. “Was there something else?”

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s it. I just didn’t want to forget. I’ll let you guys go—enjoy the rest of your night,” she says with a smile and a wave, and when he closes the door behind her, you both exchange a look.

She’s definitely acting a little weird, but it’s late, so you give her the benefit of the doubt.

You scoot over to your side, put the book on the nightstand and switch off your lamp; Aaron climbs back into bed and switches his off, too, and he turns to face the wall while you lay on your back and stare at the ceiling.

It takes about half an hour, but he falls asleep first; you turn to face him, watching his back, following the rise and fall as he softly breathes in sleep, and the peaceful rhythm lulls you into submission, and you drift off as well.

When you wake up a couple hours later, he is on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow, and you are draped over his back with your cheek against his t-shirt. It’s soft, and warm, and smells like him, and you glance at the clock and realize it’s too early to do anything but get comfortable and fall back asleep, so that’s exactly what you do.

The next time you wake up, to light creeping in between the curtains, Aaron is no longer in bed, but you’re holding his pillow, still warm beneath your cheek. He doesn’t act weird when you get up and start moving around, just pops out of the bathroom with his toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

“Got you a latte,” he says around it, gesturing to the desk and the pair of paper cups that sit on it, and you grin.

“Seriously, you’re my favorite human,” you answer, and you grab your coffee and lean against the doorframe, sipping and sighing until you’re a little more clear-headed. “Sorry if I crushed you; guess I was restless last night. I usually don’t move around that much.”

He just shrugs, spits out a mouthful of foam into the sink.

“You didn’t crush me. I’m pretty solid, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” you tease, looking at him over the lid as you take another sip. “Now hurry up and quit hogging the bathroom if you want to leave here at a decent hour.” He rinses, zips up his toiletry bag noisily for dramatic effect, and slips past you, rubbing a hand over your unruly bed head as he goes. The day passes quickly, with lots of interviewing witnesses, following dead-end leads, and bad police station coffee. When Aaron calls it and tells everyone to get some dinner, you all split off into smaller groups—Spencer and Derek go for Chinese, JJ and Emily opt for pizza, and you and Aaron end up at a retro diner with burgers and milkshakes and a plate of fries between you to share.

“I think we should be focusing more on the docks,” you say, dipping a fry in ketchup and taking a bite. “Even if that’s not where the bodies end up, it seems to be where the unsub is meeting with the victims. We could stake it out tonight, maybe. If you want.” You never want to step on his toes, because he is the boss, the leader, even if you’re friends too; you try to be careful how you phrase things, especially in front of other people, because you don’t want your comfort to look like disrespect, however unintentional.

“That’s a good idea. You and I can head down there after this; I’ll let the others know to patrol nearby, in case we need backup.”

He dusts off his fingers and pulls out his phone, types out a text, and you look around the restaurant—the place looks like it was ripped right out of the 50s, with a checkered floor and lots of red vinyl, a shiny jukebox in the corner. Out of place is a flatscreen tv behind the counter; during the day, when it’s busier, it might play news or sports, but you two are the only ones here at the moment, so the staff is hanging out beneath it watching a movie. It’s Titanic, you realize, when the iconic ‘Rose floating on a piece of debris’ scene plays, and you snort, take a long drag of your chocolate shake.

“I always hated this part. They could have found a way for him to survive, too. Unnecessary death for the heartache factor,” you say, and Aaron looks up from his phone to the screen, makes a sound of contemplation.

“I always thought it was kind of romantic. When you love someone, you’d do anything for them to be okay, even at your own expense. Even if it’s stupid.” You look over his face, study the features you know like the back of your hand, and you guess you can kind of see that, but you can’t say that, so you just sigh.

“I suppose you think Romeo and Juliet is romantic, too,” you tease, and he looks back at you, rolls his eyes.

“It’s very much of its time; it's a lot harder to suffer a miscommunication like that these days. And there is something to be said for star-crossed lovers—people who shouldn’t be together, for one reason or another, but can’t help but drift close anyway.” You swirl your straw in the metal cup, thinking briefly of how that happens to describe the two of you, and when you look up at him, you think you see a hint of that same thought on his face.

More likely, that’s just wishful thinking.

“I like the sword-fights,” you say to lighten the mood, and he laughs, and you both polish off the rest of your food and then head for the docks.

Two hours in and absolutely nothing has happened, but just when you’re ready to complain, or suggest playing I Spy or something, there’s movement from one of the shipping containers to your right. You nudge Aaron, point to the container, and you both creep closer, trying to make out the situation.

When you’re just around the corner, it’s clearly two men fighting, but you obviously don’t know if this is your unsub, two random guys having it out on the docks, or what, so you mutually agree to wait until you have some kind of sign that this is your guy. When one of them pulls out a hunting knife that looks vaguely similar to your murder weapon—as close as you can tell in the dark, anyway—you raise your guns and identify yourselves as FBI.

The unsub drops the knife, but fists his hands in the other guy’s jacket, manhandles him to the edge of the dock, and shoves him into the water, then jumps as well. You swear, and Aaron takes off his jacket, throws it on the ground, then his phone on top of it, and looks back at you.

“Stay here and call for backup,” he instructs, and then he jumps in too; you call the team from your comms, get a response from Emily, and then toss your phone onto Aaron’s jacket and follow him.

He, of course, went for the victim first, so you look for the unsub, who is not visible above the water. You completely submerge yourself, feeling for more than looking for him, because the water is cloudy on a good day and pitch black at ten o’clock at night; when you pop your head up for air, you see Aaron getting the victim up onto the dock, and the unsub bobbing a bit further out. You swim to him, limbs aching, and he seems to know it’s time to give up.

He’s winded, gasping for breath, so you keep him above the water to your own detriment, dragging him by his wet jacket instead of cuffing him, because you’re not trying to kill the guy or lug his unconscious body back to shore. You just barely keep your own head above water most of the time, coming up for big gulps of air when absolutely necessary.

You finally make it to the dock, and your team has arrived, so Derek pulls him out of the water, makes sure he’s alright, and puts some cuffs on him. Aaron’s hands are on you right after, getting you up on the dock, wrapping a towel around your shoulders.

Despite the warm spring breeze, the water was freezing, and you can feel your teeth chattering. He rubs your arms for warmth, crouches down to look you seriously in the eyes.

“Thought I told you to stay here,” he says with an arched brow, a scowl you can tell is more concerned than angry. You wet your frozen lips and try your best to smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack.”

He looks at you like you’re an idiot, but fondly, if that’s possible, then hugs you so tightly, guides your face to press against his warm neck. How he’s not teetering on the edge of hypothermia is anyone’s guess.

“Your lips are practically blue. Stupid,” he murmurs, but his mouth dusts over your temple in what is unmistakably a kiss, and when you’re able to feel your lips again, you reciprocate, press them a little harder against his throat while you shiver in his arms.

It doesn’t mean anything except I’m happy we’re both alive. Probably.

That night in bed, he faces the wall, and you stare at the ceiling, but you wake up with your nose against the back of his neck. The way he’s breathing tells you he’s not asleep, and when you wrap your arms around him, he holds them tight. Things don’t change after Pittsburgh, and that’s okay. You are comfortable with the way things are, and you love what you have—lunches under the oak tree, the exchange of books, late night texts when you both can’t sleep, hands brushing when you walk to the parking garage, glances shared across the jet. All those things make it easy not to focus on what you don’t have, what you’re not even sure Aaron would want anyway.

You exchange books again on Friday at lunch: he hands you Beloved by Toni Morrison, a book you already know and adore, and you hand him Ravished by Amanda Quick.

“Dubbed the Beast of Blackthorne Hall for his scarred face and lecherous past, Gideon,” Aaron shoots you a glance—“that’s purely coincidental”—“was strong and fierce and notoriously menacing. Yet Harriet could not find it in her heart to fear him. For in his tawny gaze she sensed a savage pain she longed to soothe... and a searing passion she yearned to answer.”

You hold back a smile.

“It’s a modern retelling of a classic story—Beauty and the Beast,” you add, taking a bite of your sandwich. He looks you over like there’s something he wants to say, but he just tucks it under his arm and steals a piece of melon from your lunch.

“I have Jack this weekend, so I probably won’t get to read much, but it sounds intriguing.”

“Well I hope you like it when you read it. Tell him I said hi; it’s been too long since I saw him. I bet he’s looking more like you every day,” you say, popping a piece of melon into your mouth. He smiles softly.

“A little, but Haley says she sees her father in him, and I have to agree. We may have to wait a few years until he looks like me; he’s too cute for that now.” He doesn’t sound self-deprecating, just fond, but you can’t let a comment like that stand, regardless.

“You’re cute; the difference is that kids are cute all the time. You’re an adult, so sometimes you’re handsome, sometimes you’re cute, sometimes you’re hot… it can be hard to reconcile.” This time, he looks you over with something light and playful in his eyes, and it’s something you want to explore, but the timer on your phone goes off, indicating that lunch is over, so you just exhale softly and pack up your things.

You don’t talk much after that—his Fridays are usually busy with meetings, and he leaves in a hurry to pick up Jack, which is understandable.

Emily, JJ, and Penelope invite you out for drinks and dinner—“because we know Hotch is busy,” Penelope says, which has literally nothing to do with your weekend plans, but you don’t correct them—so you don’t linger either.

You go out for Italian, so you are sleepy and full of wine and pasta by the end of the evening, and you smile at your friends.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight, guys. I had a really good time.”

“Of course,” Emily says, taking her last sip of Pinot Noir. “We barely see you anymore; it was long overdue.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I should really try to drag my ass out of bed more often.” You can’t help it, though, that after a long day, your bed and a good book just call your name. You’ve always been introverted in that way. JJ laughs softly, chin in her palm, elbow on the table.

“Honeymoon phase. Give it another couple months and you’ll be past that.” You do have a new memory foam mattress that has made sinking into the pillows and blankets all that more indulgent, but you didn’t think JJ knew about that. And you’ve never heard of a honeymoon phase for a mattress before.

“Eh, I don’t think so. There’s literally nothing more satisfying on this earth.” The three of them exchange an amused look, but your phone vibrates, and that catches your attention; you smile when it’s Aaron, sending you a photo of Jack with a toothy grin and his hands covered in fingerpaint. You look up to the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.

“Alright, we’ve lost her. See you all Monday,” Emily says, pulling you in for a hug; when she steps back, she smiles. “And tell Hotch we said hi.”

“I will,” you promise as you hug the other two. You hang back a moment, type out a reply—Looks like you’re having lots of fun without me!—and get into your car to head home.

You change into comfy clothes, drink a glass of water, and climb into bed with Beloved, and at around 9:30 you receive a reply.

Having the most fun we can without you. Maybe next time Jack is over, we can tempt you with dinosaur chicken nuggets and fingerpaint?

You smile, the happiest you’ve been all night—and that’s saying something, because you really did have a great time—and send back, It’s a date. Come Monday, you’re feeling pretty good, well-rested and relaxed from probably too much time in bed, but Aaron looks upset when he walks into the morning meeting. He keeps it short and sweet, and everyone disperses quickly, giving you sympathetic looks as you hang back to try to have a word with him. He clears off the white board, tidies up the table that doesn’t need tidying, and you place a hand on his back, gentle and comforting. He sighs, and you can feel the tension leave him almost instantly.

“Hey. What’s bothering you?” you ask softly, leaning around to try to catch his expression; he looks tired, sad, and maybe a little conflicted, leans into your touch.

“Taking Jack back to Haley’s was rough last night; it always is, but yesterday was really bad.” You know a little about this from weekends past, how Jack always cries when Aaron has to leave, how he feels terrible about it for the rest of the evening, but it must have been extreme for him to still be so upset. “And Haley…” He sighs again, runs his hand through his hair. “It’s like it’s one step forward, two steps back with her sometimes.”

“Why don’t we go sit in your office and you can tell me more?” You want to continue discussing this—that’s what friends are for, and he’s clearly in a bad state emotionally, you think it could help—but he just shakes his head.

“No, I… it’s okay. I don’t want to weigh you down with my problems.” You take your hand off his back, lean a hip against the table and look up at him.

“I’m not just your friend when it’s all easy breezy, lunch in the sunshine, talking about our favorite books,” you say with a sad smile; he reciprocates a little, which is more than you expected. “I’m here when things are complicated, when you have bad days, too. The Monday blues especially.” One of his hands rests on the table, and you cover it with yours, lean in to press your forehead to his shoulder. “Let me be here, okay? Even if all you need me to do is listen.”

It takes a moment, and his eyes are wet when he finally responds; he inhales deeply, nods, and brushes his free hand over your head in something of a hug, murmurs a rough, “okay.”

You sit in his office for an hour—which, again, is more than you expected—listening to him talk about his weekend with Jack, how heartbreaking it was to take him back to Haley’s, how he tried talking to her about taking him more often and she just wasn’t sure she could trust him to do what he says he’ll do. He understands where she’s coming from, knows he’s been unable to keep his word in the past, thinks he doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt; he hasn’t asked for advice, seems to just want to vent, so you just listen.

“Then I mentioned you, that you might come for dinner next time he’s over, and she was worried about that,” he says, exasperated, and you frown.

“Why would she worry about that? I’ve been around him lots of times.” It doesn't make sense, because Haley has always been nothing but sweet to you; Aaron looks up at your question, and it seems a little like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that part, though you can’t imagine why.

“It’s just different now… because he’s older,” he says after a brief moment of hesitation. “She doesn’t want him getting attached to someone who might not always be around, you know.” You sigh softly, because if that’s all it is…

You lean forward, take his hand, squeeze it tight.

“I’m always going to be around, Aaron. I can talk to her, if you want, tell her that.”

“No, it’s—you don’t have to do that.” He squeezes your hand back, closes his eyes for a beat. “Just hearing you say it, it makes things easier. I’ll talk to her again next time.”

You talk a little more, and he seems a lot better afterward, even if he is a bit less expressive during lunch; you figure any progress is good, but it makes you sad to see him so down, so naturally, you formulate a plan to help get him back to the Aaron you know and love.

At the end of the day, when he makes his way to the bullpen, you spin around in your chair, take him by the sleeve.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” you say in no uncertain tone of voice. “For a few hours. I’ll bring you back for your car.” He agrees with a fond look, and you lose yourself in the expression for a moment, then stand up, grab your things, and walk with him out to the garage.

Rush hour traffic is what it is, and you leave Aaron in charge of the music, which means you get The Beatles and The Who, Rolling Stones and Neil Diamond, and you’re both singing along and so much happier by the time you pull into the parking lot of the bodega nearest your apartment.

“Just running in for provisions—be right back,” you say with a grin, and when you return with two paper bags of loot, he looks at you like you might be his favorite person in the world with an age in the double digits. It’s a look you love putting on his face.

“Do I get to see what provisions you’ve acquired?” he asks, teasing, but you shake your head and tell him he’ll see it when you get there.

With a pit stop in your apartment to grab a blanket and a few throw pillows, you take him up to the roof and get things ready for your makeshift picnic. There is white wine, still mostly chilled; cubed cheese, far from gourmet but no less delicious; crusty french bread that was fresh this morning but at this hour is a little extra crusty; blueberries, because they didn’t have grapes; dark chocolate, because you share a fondness for it; and paper cups for the wine.

Aaron takes a look at your bounty, spread over the blanket, and smiles the first real smile you’ve seen all day.

“Fancy,” he teases, and he takes off his jacket, gets on the ground with you. You pour each of you some wine, pop a blueberry in your mouth.

“No, but I thought a meal—and I do call it that loosely—under the stars might do you some good.” You lift your paper cup and tap it against his, brush your fingers over his hand. “To the best boss, best dad, best friend I could ask for.” You take a sip, but he doesn’t at first, watches you with something simmering behind his eyes.

“Do I get to make a toast?” he asks after a few beats, and you smile, nod, and hold up your cup. “To the only person stupid enough to jump into a freezing cold river after me. To the only person I would consider eating a bodega dinner with. To the only person who sees me the way you do.” You both take a sip, which is hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. He looks into your eyes, then breaks the dark chocolate into slivers and hands you a piece like he didn’t just say the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you before.

You eat, and talk, and drink, and when you’re done with dinner you put everything back in the bags and lay back on the blanket, side by side, and stare up at the stars. The moon is high and full, shining while the stars twinkle around it, and you can’t think of a single time you’ve ever felt more at peace.

“This was really perfect,” Aaron says, almost a whisper, after about twenty minutes of companionable silence. “I can’t thank you enough for being there for me today.” You turn to face him, hands curled up under your chin, and he turns toward you as well. He’s so handsome in the moonlight your heart almost aches.

“You don’t have to thank me. I just wanted to see you happy.” You feel your eyes well up with tears, because he deserves to be happy; you sigh, blink them away, and he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, rests them there for a long time. When he eventually pulls back, you bring a hand to his hair, brush it back at his temple, and then the creaking of the door makes you pull back, sit up.

It’s your neighbor from 422, who you’ve seen on the roof a handful of times, sneaking away from his wife to smoke a cigarette. He squints in the dark, recognizes you, and waves.

“Hey, 418! You’re not alone tonight.” Aaron sits up too, and you laugh softly.

“Nope, but we were just leaving. The roof is all yours.” Aaron stands, pulls you up, and you grab the blanket and pillows while he grabs the bags, and the two of you head back down to your place.

It’s after ten when you get the groceries put away, and you stand next to Aaron in your small kitchen, contemplating what you want to say next. Your mouth betrays your brain, says what you’ve been thinking but weren’t quite sure how to approach.

“It’s late; I know I said I’d take you back to your car, but you could stay here if you want. I have a spare toothbrush, and I know you have a spare suit at the office, and it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed before.”

You’d completely understand if he’d rather go home—you hate when your plans are changed at the last minute, and you prefer to do your full nightly routine for your sanity’s sake—but he only nods, and you lead your way to the bedroom, show him the master bath.

You are in your pajamas, tucked into bed, when he comes out in his boxers and undershirt; he hangs up his suit in your closet where you’d left him some space, then climbs in beside you. He looks over at you, then past you, at your nightstand, which has a stack of books on it—none of them romance novels. You grin, busted after months of book exchanges, and he leans over you to look at the titles.

“Persuasion, To Kill A Mockingbird, One Hundred Years of Solitude—Beloved.” He looks from your copy of the novel to his, which you hold in your hands, and you shrug sheepishly.

“I like reading the notes you put in the margins,” you say meekly, hoping he’s not angry, but all he does is laugh.

“Let me guess: you don’t actually like romance novels.” He leans back against your pillow, and so do you, resting the book on your lap.

“I mean, I don’t not like them… but I’ve been buying those just for you.” The smile on his face is brilliant, and only makes you yearn for him more; things you have been purposefully not feeling are flooding your heart and mind and body now, with him so close, laughing over this stupid secret you’ve been hiding for so long. “And you, sweet man that you are, have been reading them, and discussing them.” You put your hand on his shoulder, and he ducks his head to laugh again.

“Since we’re being honest… I didn’t read all of them. I tried,” he says when you act offended, shoving the shoulder you’re resting against, “but some of them were so bad. I just flipped through, found something I thought could pass as my favorite part, and hoped to hell you didn't ask too many questions.”

You both laugh until you’re breathless—he is so different from how he was this morning it makes you want to cry—and when your laughter dies down you look at each other, sharing breath, two heads on one pillow; is it any wonder you bridge the distance, pull him close for a warm, gentle kiss?

When you break the kiss, you are instantly worried about what Aaron will do—you aren’t drunk, aren’t even tipsy, so you know he can’t be, so much bigger and more solid than you, but will he think it’s a mistake? He kissed back, you’re pretty sure, but maybe that was an accident, something done on autopilot—

He leans in for a second kiss, mouth deceptively soft, and you curl your arm around his back, press into it with lips desperate not to let this end now that it’s started. When you separate, you are both looking into each other’s eyes again, breathing a bit heavily, and you meet in the middle for a third kiss, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life.

That kiss ends when you yawn in his face, and he chuckles softly, leans over and switches off your bedside lamp; you smile at the ceiling, and he wraps his arms around you, presses his lips to your shoulder, and tells you good night. The next day, the two of you arrive at work early so he can shower and change into his fresh clothes without anyone on the team noticing—not that you think they would really care, but they’re nosy, and a little annoying, so you both agree that’s probably for the best.

You don’t talk about the kisses, even though they’ve been the only thing running through your mind since they happened; you promise to discuss it at lunch, though, and that’s such a sweet, romantic prospect that you think you prefer it better that way anyway.

Only, you don’t ever get to lunch, because there’s an urgent case in Minneapolis, an all hands on deck situation, meaning even Penelope joins you on the jet. You debrief on the flight, hunker down in the conference room, and split up to cover more ground; you barely get to speak to Aaron the whole time you’re there except to be given instructions and to fill him on what, if anything, you’ve learned.

You don’t even make it to your hotel that night, working around the clock to catch the people responsible for terrorizing the city. It takes not one, but almost two full days, and when you board the jet on Wednesday evening, everyone is dead on their feet. You barely remember the flight or the trip home, and you fall onto your bed fully clothed and crash just like that.

Thursday is your birthday, which you almost forgot, and so you assumed everyone else would too. You should have known better, because even if your team can be annoying, they are still your friends, and they love you, so you are well and truly spoiled.

You are treated to a latte and bagels from Emily, purple cupcakes with silver sprinkles from Penelope, a piggy back ride from Derek, a book of poetry you’ve had your eye on from Spencer, and a card from JJ—really, it turns out, from all of them.

“Enjoy a romantic getaway on us?” There’s some kind of certificate in the card, and when you flip it over, you discover that it’s for a hotel and spa that offers couples massages, mud baths, intimate aromatherapy? You arch a brow. “Uh, thanks, guys. Are you trying to tell me something here?” JJ’s face falls a little and she points to the card.

“It’s a romantic getaway. For you and Hotch? Since things have been so hectic lately,” she says, but your ears are kind of ringing and your brain is stuck on the for you and Hotch part.

“Oh. Um. Sorry—it’s just kind of soon, I think? How do you guys even know about that?” you murmur. The two of you haven’t had time to discuss Monday yet, and you haven’t spoken a word to anyone; you wouldn’t have guessed Aaron would have either, but there is a gift certificate for a romantic getaway in your hands, and you’re kind of spiraling.

“Well come on, we haven’t exactly been pretending we don’t know,” Emily says, and you can feel the confusion in your features when you look up at her. “And you guys haven’t been exactly secretive. We’re happy for you, though.”

“I mean, we haven’t been secretive, but we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet. It’s only been three days.” You are met with looks similar to the one on your own face.

“What do you mean, three days?” Spencer asks with a frown. “You and Hotch have been dating for almost two months. Right?” he says, looking at the others, and they nod, but it’s tentative. Your first reaction is to flush, and you close the card, fan your face with it.

“You guys think… You guys thought…” You look at them, then up at Aaron’s office; there’s no way he can know that you’re having a moment, but he chooses then to come downstairs, coincidentally. He’s smiling at first, but it falls when he looks at your face.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” He presses a cool hand to your hot cheek, flicks his eyes over yours, and JJ makes a noise; when you glance over at her, she’s gesturing between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, we were wrong? What were we supposed to think?” Aaron frowns, not following, and you take a deep breath.

“They got me a gift certificate for my birthday. To a spa. For you and I to have a romantic getaway, because they were under the assumption we’ve been dating… for two months.” The way he pulls back quickly makes your stomach ache a little, but you say nothing. You should have known.

“You say I love you,” Derek begins like he’s listing evidence. “You have lunch together every day. You’re always smiling at each other.”

“Seriously, some of the softest, gooiest smiles I’ve ever seen,” Penelope adds.

“You eat together on cases, you’re texting all the time when you’re not together.”

“I’ve been pairing the two of you up in hotels since I first figured out you were dating,” JJ says, and the whole ‘you’re welcome’ thing suddenly makes some sense. “I booked you that room with just the one bed so you’d maybe feel more comfortable about us knowing, so you’d see that we don’t mind.”

“You’re always looking at each other, always touching,” Spencer says. “In Pittsburgh—that was the first time you really hugged or kissed each other in front of us. We were trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but it was kind of a big deal.”

You look over at Aaron, try to gauge his reaction, but for the first time in a long time you can’t tell what he’s feeling. You can’t really tell what you’re feeling, either. Sadness. Worry. Loss? But what have you lost?

“We’re friends,” you say, even if it sounds weak to your own ears. “We’re… close.”

“We wouldn’t exactly make sense as a couple, would we?” Aaron asks rhetorically, and your heart clenches when he says that. He told you this morning that he’d made dinner plans for you, both for your birthday and to discuss the kisses, what they mean, where you go from here, but that doesn’t sound very promising anymore. “We’re just—”

“Star-crossed,” you say, but you feel like your eyes are vacant. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re stupid for kissing him, for letting yourself think he could feel the same way you feel, have felt for a while. Isn’t friendship enough? Don’t you already have this special bond so unlike what you have with anyone else in your life? Why press your luck? You know better than that. “We should get back to work.”

You don’t look at Aaron, so you don’t know whether or not he looks at you. JJ does, and you can tell she knows you’re upset, but she just nudges everyone on their way, and you take a seat at your desk—it’s covered in balloons and streamers, the Penelope special.

You’ve never felt less like celebrating.

At lunchtime, Aaron stops at your desk, and the two of you walk out to the bench, open your bags in silence. You’re almost halfway through the hour before he tries to speak.

“Uh. I. About earlier,” he finally gets out, looking down at his sandwich, and you shake your head even though he’s not watching you.

“It’s fine. We don’t have to.” You take a bite of your salad even though you don’t taste it. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. You are who you are,” smart, sweet, handsome, tender, caring, “and I am who I am.” Too quiet, too young, too impulsive, too silly, too emotional. He nods, looks at your face for the first time in a while, swallows.

“Right.” You’re due to exchange books back—his is on your lap, yours is on his—and he picks them both up. “I’m like this,” he says, holding up Beloved. “Faded cover, dog-eared pages, scribbles in the margins: middle-aged, divorced, a little broken, barely holding it together for the kid I don’t get to spend enough time with. You’re like this,” he says, holding up Ravished. “Fresh and glossy and shiny and new, with your whole life ahead of you, the whole world ahead of you. You could do anything, with anyone.”

You frown, because this is not what you meant, at all. How could he think that about himself, when the well-loved cover and the dog-eared pages and the scribbles in the margins are all the best parts of him?

“Aaron,” you say, but it sounds like pleading; you reach out to put your hands on his arms, but he pulls them back. His eyes are rimmed red, lips pressed together to hold back everything he’s not saying.

“I think lunch is almost over.” He packs up his things, leaves you with tears in your eyes and a wilted salad and a brand new romance novel you’re never going to read.

Later, he cancels dinner, says something came up, and you go home to your empty bed and watch Titanic and bawl your eyes out when Rose tells Jack she’ll never let go. Friday, you get another case. Weekend cases are no one’s favorite, but especially not yours, when you desperately needed that buffer of time away from Aaron to sort out your feelings and get back to some sense of normalcy. Instead, you’re flying to a small town outside of Nashville to catch a serial arsonist, and when you get to your hotel, you and Aaron are sharing a room.

At least there are two beds, this time.

You go with Emily and Spencer to a crime scene, walking around a house that was once picture perfect and is now all charred wood and ash, and you quickly tell yourself to get a grip and not look for metaphors for your own life while trying to solve a case. What kind of investigator are you? Pathetic, apparently.

You work until evening, and when it’s time to break for dinner, you buy a sad looking assortment of items from the police station vending machine and eat in the conference room by yourself.

It’s a good thing you do, because they get a call about the fire while everyone is still away, and you and a few locals are the first on the scene.

It doesn’t start out bad, mostly located in the back of the house, but you know how quickly these things can spread, and the fire department is working hard to put it out. One of the officers is talking to the family, and the mother is crying, so you come closer to figure out why.

“She said the daughter was supposed to be staying at a friend’s, but sometimes she changes her mind at the last minute and comes home. She can’t get ahold of her,” the officer says, and you nod, thinking.

“Where would she be? The front or the back?”

“Her room is in the front, second floor; if she’s here, that’s where she’d be,” the mother says, wiping her eyes with a tissue, and you tell the officer to stay with them, that you’ll take care of it. You talk to the firefighters—this town is so small there are only two that were able to respond, and they’re both busy trying to put out the fire, but they clear you to go in if you stick to the front of the building and get out of there as fast as you can.

Your team isn’t here yet either, too far out for comms to be effective, and you can’t get ahold of Aaron, so you make a judgement call and head inside.

The front of the house is so eerily normal it’s almost easy to calm your nerves and pretend the back isn’t in the process of being destroyed. You open the front door, run up the staircase, and call out for the girl; she answers, not from the front of the house, but the back—a bathroom maybe? Flames lick up the wall beside it, but you can get to the knob, and she comes rushing out, into your arms, terrified. You weren't expecting that, and you both fall back: your head hits off the floor, but she seems okay, so you tell her to run out the front door and find her mom.

You press a hand to the back of your head, and it comes back tacky with blood. There’s ringing in your ears for a couple of minutes, and then your favorite voice in the world comes through.

“Where are you? We’re here, where are you?” You’re getting hotter, and when you crane your neck up, you can see why: the fire is getting closer, creeping toward the staircase, creeping toward you. You inhale, cough, and press your walkie button.

“I’m upstairs in the hall; hit my head. It’s not safe.”

“I’m coming for you.” You groan. Stubborn man.

“It’s not safe, Aaron.” You hear the crackle of static, hope maybe he heard your warning and will wait until more firefighters arrive—but knowing him the way you do, that’s just wishful thinking. His voice rings out again, and despite the pain, you can’t help but smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack. Just stay put; I’ll be right there.” You close your eyes, drift in and out of consciousness; when you see him, all you can think is how ridiculously in love with him you are, and that you really hope you’ll be around to tell him. You are, of course, fine. Your head is the worst of it, even the smoke inhalation was mild, and the fire didn’t touch you, so there are no burns. Aaron doesn’t leave your side the entire time you’re being checked over, looks serious and concerned, though he smiles when the mother comes over and squeezes you so tightly you wince a little. It starts to rain, making the firefighters' jobs a little easier, and it feels oddly cleansing, after the day you’ve had. Someone offers you an umbrella, but you decline.

The fire is successfully put out, and the half of your team that didn’t respond to the scene responded to a call for suspicious activity, which ends up being your unsub. You are all happy no one was killed this time, and since you’re staying the night again, the group decides to grab a drink to celebrate. You don’t have a concussion, but your head still aches, so you pass, and Aaron passes with you.

You head to the hotel, park in the lot, but you don’t even make it halfway across before you stop, a hand on his arm.

“I need to say something,” you tell him, and he looks up at the dark sky like, right here? Right now?, even though you’re both already drenched. You nod, because if you don’t do this now you might never—almost dying always gives you an unhealthy amount of confidence, which you attribute to equal amounts of adrenaline and stupidity. “When we first met, I didn’t think we’d have a lot in common. We’re both quiet, but in wildly different ways, and I’m quick to trust and let people in while your guard is almost never down.”

He looks a little sad at that, and you realize you’re kind of doing what he did, putting the two of you into completely different categories, emphasizing the ways you don’t belong together. But that’s dumb, so you don’t give him time to focus on that for long.

“But being your friend, Aaron—the more time I spent with you, the more I came to feel like no one has ever understood me the way you do. No one has ever seen me the way you do.” Rain is pouring down all around you, beating against the pavement, flattening your hair against your head, but you don’t care. Regardless of his reaction, this is actually kind of perfect. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you—that was an accident, I admit. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You step closer to him, put your hands on his waist; he doesn’t pull away. “I don’t need shiny, glossy things; you're the one I want—faded cover, dog-eared pages, notes in the margins. I love you exactly as you are.”

He is gorgeous in the rain, water in his hair, dripping off his nose. His expression looks hopeful, and you pray to god that’s not wishful thinking.

“Say something, anything,” you beg, anticipation killing you, and he presses his hands to your cheeks and pulls you close for a deep, passionate, soulful kiss that says it all.

The words are nice to hear, though.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you either,” he breathes against your lips when the kiss breaks. “I told myself it was just a crush, because someone so young and beautiful was paying so much attention to me, treating me like more than just the guy giving orders. But the more time I spent with you, the more undeniable it became. You are everything good about the world—bright, optimistic, caring, funny, sweet. How could anyone not fall in love with you?”

You swallow hard, lean up to press your lips against his again.

“When you said we wouldn’t make sense as a couple…” He shakes his head.

“That was just me chickening out. After we kissed, I was all but ready to ask you to go steady,” he says, and you both smile, because he’s such an old fashioned dork, but god, do you love him. “And then we found out that the team thought we’d been together for months, and you looked freaked out, so I freaked out. I’m sorry. I should have made us talk about it sooner.”

“Classic pointless miscommunication,” you say with a laugh, and he chuckles too, kisses you again.

“Let’s go inside and get dried off; there’s a birthday gift in my bag I’ve been meaning to give you.” He takes your hand, and you head up, duck into the bathroom to change into dry clothes, squeeze the water out of your hair. There is a small, flat, wrapped present on your bed when you emerge, and you smile, sink down to open it.

It’s Romeo and Juliet, a brand new copy, but when you flip through it, there are blue inked notes in the margins. Aaron comes to sit beside you, touches your face like you’re something precious.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” he murmurs, and you smack him on the arm with the book.

“That’s from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I know you know that,” you say with a grin. He nods in admission, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, lean in for a warm, loving kiss. When you pull back, it’s with a soft smile. “Give me my sin again?”

“My pleasure,” he whispers, and you sink into his embrace and promise never to let go. The following week, you both leave work at noon on Friday so you can enjoy your romantic getaway. You drive to the spa, and Aaron reads over the brochure on his phone with a tone you find hilarious.

“Mud bath—I’m not bathing in mud. That’s counterintuitive.”

“It’s special mud; more like clay,” you say, but he snorts, scrolls.

“Seaweed wrap—nobody is wrapping me in seaweed. That sounds like a nightmare.” You laugh softly and take your exit.

“It’s supposed to be rejuvenating. JJ recommended it.”

“JJ weighs fifty pounds. It would take all the seaweed in the Atlantic to wrap me,” he says, and you roll your eyes, jab your finger into his ribs.

“But what if I get to unwrap you?” you ask, eyebrows raised; you briefly glance over and he makes a face of contemplation.

“Okay, that’s a maybe. Intimate aromatherapy—what does that even mean?”

“I think it means we do something that makes us smell good and then we go back to our room and kiss and stuff.”

“Now that doesn’t sound half bad,” he murmurs. “Foot massage? I’m not letting a stranger touch my feet, that’s weird.” You look over at him, squinting.

“You literally plugged someone’s bullet wound with your finger yesterday, but someone touching your feet is where you draw the line? Will you do anything on the list?” He scrolls down it, and his extended silence makes you laugh.

“Meditation. Couples massage,” he says, reaching over to rest a hand on your thigh. “There’s a sauna.” You think of him, sweat-drenched in a fluffy white towel, and take a deep, calming breath. “I bet the room is nice; did you bring a book?” You smile indulgently, reach out a hand to brush through his hair.

“Yep. It’s called A Duke’s Wild Kiss…” He gives you a mildly withering look, and you lightly tap the bridge of his nose. “Just kidding. I brought To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.” His answering smile is brilliant.

“Are you serious?” You nod, and he gestures to the backseat, where your bags are. “That’s what I brought, too.”

You spend too much of your romantic getaway in your room, but it is really nice; you do the couples massage, though, and aromatherapy, and the sauna, and then you take turns giving each other a foot massage while the other reads To the Lighthouse out loud.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t, but somehow you get to keep him anyway. A/N: Though I snuck in a few parts of a few different lyrics, two lines in particular inspired this fic: 'Now I've read all of the books beside your bed' and 'I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.' A lot of my fics lately have incorporated books... guess I better get reading!

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

[studiojeon]

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | -  how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :) 

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break. 

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus. 

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would. 

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time. 

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building. 

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?” 

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway” 

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack. 

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

[nightowlfandom]

Rich! Bad Boy!Min Yoongi- Try Me

Just wanna say if you see your name used here, I don’t have beef with you okay? I had a random name generator in another tab and just used the first name I saw.

Once again someone doesn’t want me to be great so....this might be the only post today because I....dunno I can’t post when I’m not in a good mood and its been real shitty.

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

X RATED PROMPT LIST| NON X RATED PROMPT LIST

RUN IN HERE AND COME GET Y’ALL JUICE

Leggo!

...

You were practically glued to his side. His arm was tightly wrapped around your waist as he led you across the room. You had perched your designer sunglasses on top of your head to get a clearer look at your surroundings. Why were you wearing sunglasses at night? Because you could, of course.

Your wore a backless floor length gown in one of his favorite colors. He had insisted you wear your fur coat, but you convinced him to let you leave it in the car. You were on full display, not only for him but for anyone else who thought that they had bought the most gorgeous date for the night. That title was forever and always reserved for Min Yoongi’s girl and tonight only proved it more and more. 

He walked with his held held high as if everyone around him was beneath him. His attired screamed ‘try me, bitch’ From his black suit and tie to crisp white dress shirt and shoes that were worth more than someone’s rent for five months. His hair was slicked back and while he didn’t bother to raise his own pair of shades, everyone could see the glare very evident on his face.

You two were the epitome of a power couple, in the most literal sense and everyone respected that.

“Mr. Min! Welcome!” a nervous and frantic looking man rushed up to you. “This must be your beautiful companion for the night.” he bowed repeatedly. So many times that you lost count. He held his hand out for you to take, but you were left to stare awkwardly. You had no idea what to do in that moment. After a second or two you held your hand out, which he shook a bit too aggressively.

Yoongi calmly used his free hand to raise his sunglasses up. “You gettin’ paid to rip my girl’s arm out its socket?”

“Oh! my apologies Mr. Min!” he instantly let your hand go. “I wasn’t aware.”

“You never are.” he scoffed, allowing his shades sit on the top of his head. “Is our table ready or did they send you here to waste our time?”

“You’re fashionably early! Your comrades haven’t arrived yet.” the host stammered. “Follow me!” he practically disappeared through the sea of people. 

“What a tool.” you spoke for the first time since you left the car. “I’ve never seen a bigger kiss-ass in my life.”

“Hm, trust me I’ve met worse. He’s just a dick-rider for the men who really own this place.” He leaned down and spoke into your ear. “Those guys will literally shit on someone else’s table if I tell them to.”

“How riveting.” you rolled your eyes playfully as he led you through the crowd. It was easy for people to get out of your way. One look from your boyfriend and they were hugged the nearest wall or throwing themselves against the various tables set up all over the place. “Remind me again why we’re here?”

“Don’t make that face.” He smirked. “I told you, official business.”

“And we couldn’t do that somewhere less...sleazy?” you scoffed at the old man with five different women on his arm. “Yoongi-”

“It’s only for a few hours.” he assured. “Then after that, we can do whatever you want, okay?”

“You said that last time.” you hid the pout forming on your face.

“You have my word.”

“Or so you say.” you slipped out of his grip. “Until you have more trash take out.” you shook your head as you walked ahead. Yoongi watched you from behind as you walked ahead. Of course you didn’t need him by your side to be considered intimidating. He bit his lip at the idea of ripping that dress off your body when you got back to the hotel. Shit, he might not even manage to keep his hands to himself in the car.

Yoongi joined you at the table. “ You feel like Soju tonight?”

“Depends on if you want me to start fighting or not.” you raised an eyebrow at Yoongi.

“Hm, on second thought how about imported beer.”

“This isn’t date night at your place, dear.” you replied jokingly.

“Hm, you’re right. It’s been a while since we’ve splurged. We can do wine tonight!” he chuckled in reply as you both sat down. Just as you both got settled, you were met by a small crowd. Yoongi’s friends, of course. 

“Oi! Watch how you handle my fucking jacket! It’s worth more than your life.” Namjoon snapped at that host.

“My apologies sir!”

“Yoongi, Y/N. Good to see you.” Seokjin shook Yoongi’s hand firmly. “Sorry we’re late.”

“We just arrived ourselves.” you replied, relaxing as Yoongi wrapped his arm around your waist again. “Yoongi insisted.”

“Of course he did.” Jungkook sat down. “I saw the other women glaring at you.” he laughed. “You sure know how to make an entrance.” he raised your hand to his lips for a short kiss to your knuckles.

“Of course she does. She’s the best looking woman here.” he huffed as if it was obvious. The host quietly bought the selection for the night.

“Wine for the lady, the usual for the rest of us.” Yoongi spoke for the table.

“Yes sir!”

Before anyone else could speak, a woman in a red dress and white fur coat strode up. “Yoongi? Is that you?”

“Meredith....fancy seeing you here.” Yoongi looked less than thrilled.

“Very!” she seemed a little too happy to see him. It was funny because you had never seen nor heard of this woman in your life. “So...I tried to call you.”

She was completely oblivious of you sitting right there and you didn’t like it.

“What are you doing here?” Seokjin annoyedly spoke up as his drink was poured. “If you couldn’t tell, we’re all trying to enjoy ourselves.”

“I just wanted to catch up with an old friend!” she put her hands up in defense. Her eyes suddenly landed on you. “Whose this?” she fixed her face in disgust

“Y/N L/N, who the fuck are you?” you raised an eyebrow. Your posture straightened up as she glared at you. You threw your sunglasses on the table, crossing your arms as you perked up.

“Are you Yoongi’s pet or something?” she put a hand on her hip. “ Guess they’ll let anyone in!”

“Pet? Oh Honey...Even if that were true it would still mean I’m sitting here and your standing there looking stupid....”

“Oh yeah. He’s probably waiting for the perfect moment to get rid of you!”

You held up a single hand to up Yoongi to signify that you didn’t want him to speak. He looked livid, however you didn’t see the point in him wasting his time or energy on this woman. You slowly stood up. The host held your glass of wine with shaky hands, unsure of what to do.

“Thank you.” you grabbed the glass from him. “Run along now.”

“Yes mam!” the scared host scurried off, obviously not wanting any confrontation. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Yoongi asked, watching you with weary eyes. You weren’t confrontational so this was a huge surprise.

“Meredith. That is your name, right?” you smiled sweetly. You took a sip from your glass. “Hm...What a darling coat! I bet it goes with anything.”

“Of course it does! It pairs best with red. I bought it in Paris...” she put a hand on her hip as if she was a model. “As you can see.”

“Too bad beautiful gowns and expensive fur doesn’t make the wearer any less cheap than the next bitch.” you instantly shut down the false sense of security you built for the disrespectful woman. 

“EXCUSE ME?!?”

“Not done yet....” you cleared your throat before speaking again. “ Whore, Pet, Wife ,Girlfriend, whatever you want to call me, go ahead but best believe my place in Yoongi’s life will always hold rank over you, my dear. You weren’t even important enough for him to tell me about you and we’ve been together for four years going on five as of two months from now.” You put your free hand on your hip. “That’s number one.” you laughed gleefully.

“Damn Yoongi, your girl has guts.” Namjoon whispered.

“That’s my babe.” Yoongi sat back and watched you drag Meredith for filth.

“Number Two! Before you try to feed me shit and call it sugar, make sure you take off the tags on your clothes.” You pointed to the obvious department store tag. “Clearance...nice. I also know fake diamonds when I see them, don’t play yourself.”

Nothing was wrong with fake gems, or clearance items...but pretending you were better than everyone else while lying...that wasn’t gonna go down.

The girl had went completely quiet now.

“Three. Last but not least. Get over this whole convoluted ‘I’m better than you’ ideals you follow because the same people you turn your nose up at are the same people who you rely on on a day to day basis. Shiny hair, expensive clothes, and a posse of fake friends who tell you everything you want to hear does not guarantee happiness. Insulting me because it gives you short lived joy does not guarantee happiness. Pretending you actually have any sense of class when it’s obvious you faked your way to the top of social stardom does not guarantee happiness.” you put your wine glass on the table. “So before I proceed to tell you to go fuck yourself and to stay away from me and my BOYFRIEND...any questions?”

Not even five seconds passed and this woman walked off without another word. You didn’t feel bad, not by a long shot. Respect is something that’s earned any ANYONE who didn’t understand that could get a piece of you.

You sat back down next to Yoongi, grabbing your wine again. “Gentlemen, forgive me for that outburst.”

“Damn babe.” Yoongi wrapped his arm around you again. “That was hot.”

“Good because I’m highly fucking livid right now.” you calmly took a sip of your wine. “Who was that woman?” you turned to glare at Yoongi.

“She was an actress who was paid to portray my wife for a business thing I was forced to do.” he shook his head. “Y/N I promise she means nothing to me. It was before we even met.”

“Good. Let another girl talk crazy to me, I’ll kill you both.” you said with a straight face. “Her for thinking she can talk to me any way she wants, and you for keeping things from me. I will cut you deep, sir.”

“Damn I love you.” he bit his lip. He turned your head towards himself to give you a deep kiss. 

...

As he had promised, he could barely keep his hands off you in the car. The minute the doors had shut, Yoongi had the hem of your dress bunched up in his fist. His lips feverishly laid open mouth kisses along your exposed neck. 

“Yoongi, we shouldn’t do this here.” you whimpered, even though your actions said the completely opposite.

“Why? No one is gonna stop me. They damn sure won’t say shit about it.” Yoongi stopped for a split second to turn a glare to the limo driver, who was trying very hard not to look in the rear view mirror. “PUT THE FUCKING DIVIDER UP.” he barked.

“Yes sir!!”

Yoongi pushed you down onto the seats, causing you to let out a laugh. The divider was put up and you could hear the sound of fabric ripping.

He had tore a rip up your dress.

“Goodbye $3,000 dress.” you huffed.

“More where that came from.” he laughed, which was quickly replaced with a sadistic smile. “Spread your legs, baby.” he pouted. “Daddy wants to finger you”

“In the car-"

 “When we get back to the hotel, I want you naked on that bed.” he growled. “If not, I’ll fucking rip whatever you have left off.”

... (The Hotel)

He couldn’t even keep his hands to himself in the elevator, any part of you he could get his hands on, he touched. By the time you two had gotten back to the room, you were thrown on the bed. Your dress had a huge tear up the leg and the straps were holding up either. Yoongi had discarded every article of clothing except his pants which were hanging low on his hips at this point.

“How do you want me?” he flicked his tongue against his bottom lip, looking you up and down. “I’ll do whatever you want, babe.” He watched as your shy wall was quickly put up and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Baby doesn’t know?”

“Nuh uh.” you hid behind your hands with a shy smile.

“Hm...my hands?”

“hm....nuh uh.” you shook your head again.

“Hm...my mouth then?” he bit his lips, standing right in front of you. “Where was that fire, honey? Come on.” he grabbed your hands. “Want me to eat that pretty pussy, baby?” He gathered the rest of your dress in his fist. “Come here.”

He began kissing up your bare thighs. You shook your legs, biting your lip. You felt him pull your panties down.

“You were so brave for me, sexy girl. Where’s that fighting spirit? Do you want me to eat this sweet little- hmm.” he dragged his tongue up your slit, laying opened mouthed kisses along your pussy. “You’re brave for the outside world but you still need daddy to take care of you, huh?”

“Mhm!” you nodded desperately.

“Baby you taste so fucking good.” he laughed, lashing his tongue against your hot flesh. “You’re moving so much.” he cackled. “Hmm” he dug his nails into your thighs. “You like it when I eat this pussy?” 

“This is mine.” he mumbled against your heat. “This is all mine. Don’t think I’m done with you yet...”

[mindofharry]

In which bucky realises the mistake he made and does everything in his power to get you back.

losing you masterlist: here!

smut!! fluff!! angst!! i’m so fucking in love with this series. mean!bucky, sex and a bit of grovelling! ALSO!!! thank you for 2k, i never expected to get this far with this page. writing has always been a passion for me so thank you guys for taking time out of your day to read my stuff. i appreciate and love you all immensely <3 happy reading!

The first thing bucky notices about you not being here, is the how quiet and lonely his apartment is. Usually, your moans, whimpers and giggles fill the small space. Not anymore. The only noise he can hear is you saying those words to him.

“You’re selfish and mean. And i deserve better”

It felt like it was ringing in his ear, no matter how loud the tv is or the children running up and down the hall, it was on a continuous loop. Selfish. Mean. Deserve better. It was meant to be no strings attached, something to let off a little steam. But then bucky got those butterflies, he wanted to take you dancing, take you to meet his friends. He didn’t like the feeling, so he didn’t the only thing he knew how to do.

Push you away.

Bucky didn’t like how he felt with you, he couldn’t understand it. He felt like he couldn’t be that person for you no matter how fucking hard he tried, bucky couldn’t be the one you cuddled up with after a stressful day. He couldn’t be the one cooking dinner for you. And he most definitely can’t be the person loving you, he’s just not programmed for that. Bucky hasn’t felt love in decades. He doesn’t know how to process it yet.

Bucky knew what he did was wrong and now laying on the ground, his back against the hard wood, the only thing he wanted was you. Y/N.

Bucky wanted Y/N.

He decided then and there, he would fix himself up, go to his therapist. And get you back.

Back in your apartment, you were still in your dress, only this time your make up was smudged and your date was cancelled. Who were you kidding? Nobody could replace bucky barnes, nobody. Fuck, you love him so much. This feeling, it’s so big. It feel like it’s taking up all of your body, this fire so big that no one can put out. Bucky is a drug, and you’ve definitely become addicted.

After what felt like hours staring at your wall, you decide it’s best to head to bed and just forget about what a disaster this night has been.

“So” Dr Raynor said, crossing her legs over. Bucky was sat in front of her, his legs bouncing up and down as his therapist tried to figure him out. Bucky hated therapy. He hated everything to do with it, he would rather be put in jail than do this bullshit sharing feelings thing.

But if he wanted any chance of getting you back, in his bed, kissing him than he would do it.

Bucky barnes was officially smitten.

“Tell me” Dr Raynor said, leaning foward. “What’s going on, james?” She asked and bucky sighed placing a hand over his eyes.

“I need help” He said and Dr Raynor nodded. “Well, yeah. That much is obvious” She teased making bucky roll his eyes.

“With a girl” He said and his therapist grunted leaning back in her seat. Bucky hasn’t been this embarrassed since middle school when he peed his pants and had to go home early, everyone laughed at him in the playground. He never forgot that, but right now, his therapist trying to keep her laughs in made him feel a little small and fragile.

“Fine. I’ll find someone else” He mumbled, moving to get up. Dr Raynor settled herself down and held her hand up to stop him. “Oh, be quiet. Tell me about this girl” She said putting her notebook down. Bucky looked down at his hands and smiled.

It almost startled the therapist, she’d never seen him smile like that. Or ever, for that matter.

“Y/N” He started.

“Y/N is the most beautiful and wise woman i’ve ever met” He said. “Always there for me, willing to do just about anything i asked her to do. Fuck, she’s the best thing that’s happened to me, since well ever” Bucky said and the therapist nodded.

“But i fucked it up. Said somethings i didn’t mean and now she won’t even look me in the eye. I was so shitty to her just because i couldn’t admit my own feelings.” Bucky groaned and Dr raynor nodded agreeing.

“James, what do you want me to tell you? You messed up, now go and apologise” She said and buckys eyes widened. “I can’t just apologise to her” He said and his therapist lifted her hand up.

“Exactly. Problem solved”

Bucky made a noise of complaint while dr raynor packed up her stuff. “See you next week, lover boy” she said walking out of the room and leaving bucky to his own thoughts.

Flowers? Chocolates? Dancing? A poem? What do women like you, like these days? God, he’s still way too new in this world to be thinking about these things. But he really fucking needs you. He needs you and your jokes, you and your witty nature.

Bucky just needs you, and he’s about to do anything in his power to get you back, starting with an apology.

You were sitting in your living room a glass of wine in your hand and new girl on in the background. Your mind was somewhere else, you’ve just felt off all day. You keep zoning out, not being able to concentrate. Is this what a broken heart feels like? A knock on the door brings out of your thoughts and back to reality. A shitty fucking reality. You sigh and put your wine down on the table and make your way over the front door, you nearly tripped over your stiletto heels on the way there. You didn’t move them last night because you were so exhausted and out of it.

Opening the door you see bucky. Just the man you didn’t want to see, you begin to close the door in his face when his foot blocks it. “Please, just hear me out” He begged and you sighed crossing your arms over your chest.

“Can i come in?” Bucky asked and you scoffed.

“Why should i let you come in? Do you remember what you did the last time?” You said and bucky placed a hand over his eyes, obviously frustrated. You didn’t understand why, he made your place in his life pretty clear.

“I should come in because i need to apologise to you. For everything. The way i treated you and the things i said. I need to apologise, so please let me in”

You sighed and opened up the door wider and walked down the hallway. You sat back down on the couch taking a gulp of you wine. You were so easy, you thought. You barley put up a fight, you should’ve just closed the door in his face. But you did want to hear what he had to say, what bullshit apology he’d come up with.

“So?” You said and bucky nodded sitting beside you.

“I miss you” He started and you rolled your eyes. “No, fuck. I do miss you, but i’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry” Bucky said grabbing your hand. You wanted to pull away but you just couldn’t, his hand felt so good in yours. You leaned over and put your wine on the coffee table. Bucky took that as permission to take your other hand.

“I had feelings for you, no i have feelings for you. I just, i’m not good at expressing myself, i’m working on it. My therapist told me to get you flowers and shit, but i left them in my apartment and this is just a whole mess” Bucky ranted, you had to bite your lip to make you not burst out with laughter.

“You talked about to your therapist?” You asked, giggling. Fuck, even your laugh is beautiful. What is there not love about you?

“I’m sorry” He said, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “I have feelings for you, and i didn’t know how to express that. So i pushed you away and treated you so badly. I’m going to apologise for that until the day i die. I just, i like you a lot Y/N” he said and you could feel your cheeks burn.

You really weren’t expecting that.

“My thought process was that i would never be that person, you know that boyfriend who’s ready to cook dinner and take the dogs for a walk” He said and you nodded understand.

“But i’m willing to do that for you, if you’d give me another chance”

You looked up at him, staring into those beautiful wide eyes. This is what you’ve been waiting for.

“Bucky....”

He moved closer to you bringing a hand to your cheek. “Please, i have hundreds of flowers and like 10 boxes of chocolates back in my apartment. Come back with me? Please?” He asked, so much vulnerability could be heard. You sighed and looked around.

You didn’t deserve what happened, but you know he’s sorry. Maybe a little more grovelling? Make up sex is the best, though. You contemplate a little longer and then nod.

“Yeah, i’ll stay at yours for a bit”

Bucky nearly cried when you said that. Maybe he’d actually have a chance.

He helped you up from the couch and watched you get your shoes. He could get use to this. “You ready?” He asked holding out his hand, you nodded taking it. It felt nice to be wanted.

After a short walk to buckys apartment, your met with (literally hundreds) of yellow flowers. You could cry, he did this all for you? You lift your hand to your mouth and look around the room.

“Do you hate it? I can get better-“

You interrupt him with a peck to the lips. He was shocked, but he didn’t hesitate with kissing you back. He placed both of his hands on the side of your head and as you gasped, he slipped his tongue in.

“Fuck, i missed you” you said in between kisses, you moved your hands to his chest. Bucky pulled away and moved back.

“I just want you to know, that i wasn’t planning on seducing you or anything. If you want i have sex we will, if you don’t, then we’ll watch a movie. There’s no pressure” He said reassuring you. You smirked and pecked his lips.

“Why don’t we go to your bedroom?”

Bucky pulls you along to his room, lifting you up once he opens the door. “Your room is messy” You said and Bucky laughed. “Hasn’t been the same without you” He said and you pouted, kissing his lips.

“I’m sorry about that, let me help you?” You said taking your shirt off, leaving you only in your pjs short and bare breasts. Bucky was staring at you intently, making your nipples harden. He reached out and ran his fingers across your nipples making you moan with pleasure. His finger was cold and just what you needed.

“Strip and then you’re going to ride me. Been too long princess” Bucky said and you nodded quickly taking your shorts and skimpy underwear off.

“Fuck” Bucky said as you lay down on the bed, legs wide open. You were dripping wet, your hands coming down to play with yourself a little. “You’re gorgeous,” He said, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“Seems like you’re wet enough for me, yeah? i’ll play with you more later” He said and you nodded, just wanting him to be in you.

Bucky rolled over and took a condom out from the door, he quickly got out of his clothes and you almost moaned at the sight of him putting on that condom. He really does like hot doing anything.

Bucky lays down his head on his pillow and you quickly and swiftly move to sit on his lap, your knees either side of him.

You placed his cock, in your dripping pussy and loved the sound he made. Bucky groaned, his hands coming to your hips immediately, to guide you at a good pace. Your hands moved to his chest, scratching at it slightly, bucky moaned at that too. Pain kink, you figured that out pretty quickly. You began to move your hips and created a good rhythm.

“Oh, god” You whimpered, as you bounced on Bucky's cock.

“Missed you, and this” Bucky said and you nodded, your hips bucking.

You begin to move faster and faster, the bed frame hitting against the wall and bucky groans and your whimpers the only thing you can hear. God, you missed him and his cock so much. Bucky is so deep inside of you, you can feel everything. He’s so good at this, sometimes he doesn’t even have to try.

“This…. is so good…..” You said whimpering, leaning down to peck his lips. Bucky responded, moving his hands to your breasts and giving them a squeeze.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, bucking his hips up fucking you faster. You nodded and moaned.

“Please! Oh fuck” You screamed, feeling that pleasure start to build up. As the both of you came down from your highs, bucky brought you into his chest.

“I’m never losing you again”

Taglist: @formulamendes @ityagirljay @josegandulfo @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @beminetokeep @jbcalway @lxdyred @idkwhttocallmysrlf <33

[mochegato]

The Night of the Consequences

Continuation of Well, Well, Well, If It Isn’t the Consequences of My Actions

“Ladybug!”

Ladybug’s eyes widened, recognizing the voice booming through the Watchtower halls without even having to turn around.  She eyed Chloe nervously.  Why did these things keep happening around the nosy blondes in her life?  She turned around with an overly wide smile.  “Oh… hi… um… M.… Wing,” she stuttered out.  

Son of a bitch!  She really should have prepared for this.  She knew it was coming.  Granted, she didn’t know it was coming today, but it had to be coming soon, they couldn’t afford to let just anyone go around knowing their identities.  If the family was really worried, they couldn’t afford to wait to talk to her about… well… her.  

Bee side eyed her with an incredulous stare.  “What the actual fu…” she started quietly.

“Is there something we can help you with?” Ladybug asked loudly, cutting off whatever rant Chloe was going to go on.

“Um well, first off,” he gave her an overly wide, supposedly charming grin, “you can call me Nightwing.  M. Wing is my… father.”  He cringed as he the last word came out.

Bee raised an eyebrow.  “I thought your father was M. Bat.”

Nightwing puckered his lips.  “Yeah… that’s… true.”  He shuffled awkwardly.

“If you’re going to use that line, you’re supposed to say we can call you Night, which I’m not going to do, by the way,” Bee said flippantly and starting to study where her nails would be if she didn’t have gloves on.  “Otherwise it really doesn’t work.”

“Bee!” Ladybug lightly chastised.  She turned to Night… Wing… Nightwing!  She wasn’t calling him Night either.  “Sorry about her.  I’d say she’s just tired, but that would be a lie.”  She ignored Bee’s scoff and continued.  “You said ‘first’, so I assume there’s a second?” she prompted.

“Right, right,” he nodded, finally seeming to settle a bit, his face becoming a bit more determined and the ‘charming’ smile returning.  “I wanted to ask you about someone.  She gave your name as a reference and I just wanted to see if it was someone we could trust.”

Bee leaned over to Ladybug’s ear.  “Why does he keep smiling like that?” she asked in a normal volume.  She shivered dramatically.  “Creepy.”

Ladybug pursed her lips to stop the noise that wanted to escape, some kind of a combination of frustrated whimper and raucous laugh.  “Okay,” Ladybug smiled tightly, focusing entirely on Nightwing. “Who was it?”

“Yeah, a name would be useful here, Smile Boy” Bee added in.  “Or we could just give our opinion on everyone we know, along with a fashion critique.  We can start with your costume history.”

“Bee, didn’t you have something else to do?  Right now?” Ladybug’s voice was sharper than an obsidian edge.  This was her boyfriend’s… future boyfriend’s?... love interest’s?  Yes, love interest’s brother.  She did not need to piss him off while he was asking her as a ‘reliable source’ about her.

“Nope,” Bee smirked back.

Ladybug groaned and turned to Nightwing.  She nodded off to the side.  “Should we…”

Nightwing nodded and followed her over.  “Ugh, whatever.  I didn’t want to hear anyway,” Bee grumbled and walked to get coffee.

“So, the woman I’m asking about is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  You may have come across her in Paris?” Nightwing prompted.

Ladybug nodded.  “I have yeah. She’s actually…”  She bit her lip.  She really should have planned this better.  How much should she tell him?  Clearly she wasn’t going to say it was her, but maybe she could say she was a part time hero?  Or maybe she could just say they trusted her.  The point was whether she could be trusted with their identities so maybe exposing her identity, one of them anyway, wasn’t the best idea.  Maybe just that she knew their identities and had never told anyone?  That should work, right?  She just had to…

“It’s just,” Nightwing spoke up misinterpreting her silence, “my brother has kind of fallen for her.”  He watched her face carefully when he said it to see if there was any indication of what she thought of the idea.

Ladybug’s eyes bugged out.  That was not the approach she had been expecting.  She thought he’d focus more on the identity aspect more than the personal aspect.  Not to mention ‘fallen’?  That was… they’d only just met.  She knew he liked her but fallen was pretty strong.  Did Jason really feel that way toward her or was Dick… Nightwing just exaggerating?  And she didn’t even think Jason had told him they were seeing each other, let alone how he felt about her!  She looked up and met his expectant eyes.  Oh right, he was waiting on her to respond.  But how did she respond to that?  “Oh?”  Very eloquent.  Her eloquence was clearly not improving around the bats.

His face scrunched as he studied her reaction.  It was definitely odd.  “Yeah. It’s kind of bizarre really.  Not to say anything bad about Marinette,” he rushed to assure her.  “I don’t know her well enough to judge her, obviously.  That’s why I’m here asking you about her.  But he’s really taken with her really quickly.  I’ve never seen him like this.”  He suddenly stopped and his eyes blew wide.  “Oh God!  Don’t tell her that.  Jason’ll kill me if he finds out.”

“Oh… um…” she looked away suddenly trying to hide her sudden blush and searched for a way to answer.

“Oh my god, y… Dupain-Cheng bagged another hero?” Bee exclaimed slapping Ladybug on the shoulder with her elbow and handing her one of the cups in her hands.

“Bee!” Ladybug exclaimed.  “I thought you didn’t care!  What are you doing here?”

“This is the thanks I get after bringing you tea?” she scoffed in pretend offence.

Ladybug rolled her eyes and let out a long suffering sigh.  “This is just water.”  She brought the cup to her lips.  “Not even hot water!  You brought me a cup of tepid water.”

“Oh my God, can’t you just be grateful I thought about bringing you tea?” Bee exclaimed, exasperation clear in her tone.

Ladybug gave her a deadpan expression.  “Did you though?”

“No, not really,” she shrugged.  “Let’s get back to Dupain-Cheng somehow managing to entice yet another hero though,” she continued, malicious glee sparkling in her eyes.

Ladybug’s mouth dropped in offense.  “She does not date a lot of heroes,” she rushed to assure Nightwing. “Only the one, really…”  She paused and looked at who she was talking to and her eyes widened in realization.  “… not that there’s anything wrong with dating a lot of superheroes… if that’s… um… what you want to do,” she finished weakly.

Bee snickered at the flustered cover-up.  “Yeah, she’s not like some heroes that date everyone they shake hands with.”

Nightwing gave an offended scoff.  “I have not dated that many people… or heroes.”

Bee scoffed.  “Maybe not that are officially sanctioned by the JL.”

“We didn’t say that you did,” Ladybug promised, “did we Bee?” she hissed at Bee through gritted teeth.  “And even if you had, there’s nothing wrong with that.  Right, Bee?  Because there’s nothing wrong with dating around.  Is there?”

“No,” Bee groused.  She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted for a moment before the pout became a vicious grin.  “Yeah, sure, we can stop talking about his dating history.  So, anyway, back to Dupain-Cheng…”

“Oh fu… I can’t believe I walked right into that,” Ladybug grumbled into her hands.

“It may be just the one she actually dated.  The rest just have wet dreams about her.”  She smirked at her.

“Bee!” Ladybug exclaimed her cheeks rapidly turning a dark scarlet.

“Relax, I know you and Dupain-Cheng have a… unique relationship, but that doesn’t change facts.  And pretending like she isn’t getting lusty looks from other people doesn’t change it either.”  Bee rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee.  The cup wasn’t nearly big enough to hide her widening smirk.  “You’re just going to have to suck it up.”

Nightwing perked up at that comment.  Well, that was an interesting tidbit.  “So you must know Marinette very well considering you know her dating history so well.”

Ladybug nodded while still glaring at Bee.  “Yes.  You could say that.  We know each other rather well.”

“Extremely well,” Bee agreed, her grin getting even sharper.  “I’ve known her since we were children but Ladybug still knows her much more intimately than I do.  Why don’t you tell him about her?”

“And I would trust her,” Ladybug continued over Bee.  “I have trusted her with a lot, both in and out of the suit.”

Bee cackled at the answer “Yeah LB do tell.  Go on about her amazing attributes.  Tell us all about her.”

“Bee,” Ladybug whined, her cheeks heating up.  Nightwing observed the interaction with a raised eyebrow.

“Come on, he’s going to think you don’t like Dupain-Cheng,” Bee teased.

“What! No!”  Ladybug straightened quickly, her eyes going wide.  “I do!  I like Dup… Marinette,” she glared quickly at Bee before she whipped back to face Nightwing with wide eyes.  “She’s great! She’s ama… She’s…” she faltered.  This was so awkward.  If she and Jason ended up getting serious, Nightwing was eventually going to know who she was and remember what she said here and if she overplayed it, he’d think she was pompous and hate her.  Then his whole family would hate her and Jason would break up with her because his family would convince him she was a terrible influence.

But! But if she wasn’t complimentary enough he’d think she didn’t like… herself and that she wasn’t trustworthy. Then he would convince Jason that it was a mistake to be with her and he’d break up with her because he’d trust his family’s word over hers and think she wasn’t a good person and deserved to be miserable.  She looked back up at Nightwing with a sigh.  “She’s a good person.  She deserves to be happy.”

Nightwing stared into her eyes for a few moments as if trying to read a part of her soul.  Finally, his eyes softened to a more sympathetic glint.  “I was worried about her knowing our identities but I’m mostly worried about him.  He’s been through a lot and he can be pretty hot and cold because of it and I just…”

Ladybug’s eyes softened too.  She looked down for a moment trying to figure out how to word her response.  “She’s… Marinette’s pretty understanding.  She’s had to deal with that before and it didn’t work then but… I don’t think that was on her…”  She pursed her lips and looked down while the memories washed over her. When she looked back up there was a bittersweet look in her eyes.  “She fights for the people she loves.  She puts effort in.  If you’re asking if I would trust her with an identity, I have before and she’s never let me down.  If you’re asking me if I would trust her with your brother’s heart, I would.  Whether it works out with him or not, she’ll still be there for him.  She’ll do everything in her power to protect it.  If you trust me, you can trust her.”

Nightwing reached out and squeezed her shoulder.  “Thank you.  This has been very helpful.  I’m sorry if I brought up any bad memories.”

Ladybug shook her head.  “No, it’s fine.  I hope I made you feel less worried about her.”

Nightwing nodded.  “You did. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome,” Bee interjected loudly.  “Even though you didn’t ask me my opinion.”

“Sorry.  I hadn’t been given your name as a reference,” Nightwing said with only the tiniest touch of condescension.  

“I grew up with her,” Bee scoffed.  “And even though you didn’t ask, I’ll tell you my opinion anyway.”

“Bee…” Ladybug started, but her voice was tired.

“I don’t know who your brother is, but whoever he is…”  Ladybug sighed deeply and dropped her head.  “…he isn’t good enough for her.”  Ladybug’s head snapped up and her jaw dropped.

“Are you… are you admitting you like m… Marinette?”  Ladybug gaped.

“Relax, I’m not like hitting on her or anything.  I’m just...  Shut up.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away with a pout.  After a few seconds she looked back at Ladybug from the corner of her eye and rolled her eyes.  “Close your mouth, LB.  There probably aren’t flies here to fly in, but Beast Boy could always be transformed as a fly for whatever ridiculous reason and if you swallow him we can’t go on our date.”  

“You’re dating Beast Boy?  When did that happen?” Ladybug exclaimed.

Bee grabbed Ladybug’s arm and tugged her back in the direction they had been heading originally.  “I was trying to tell you before we were so rudely interrupted.”

Nightwing watched them walk away with a smile and a small wave.  That was a lot to take in, but at least now he knew she was trustworthy.

<><><><><> 

Marinette had just gotten home and immediately collapsed into her bed after an extremely long and wearing day when he heard an incessant pounding at the door that wouldn't stop.  “What the hell,” she groaned.  She pushed herself off the bed with a great deal of effort and shuffled to the front door. “Somebody better be about to die,” she grumbled to herself, “or someone’s going to be.”  She looked through the peep hole to see a frantic looking Jason. 

She whipped open the door for him.  “Jason! Are you okay?”  She reached to check him over to assure herself he was okay.

Jason stared at her for just a second.  “Dick just… He said… You slept with Ladybug!  She’s the one you dated?” he yelled.

Marinette blinked at him a few times trying to take in what he just said.  “What!?”

Continued in Truth so Cold

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