#I spent like a total of around like 6 and a half hours reading this thing today!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aeori-o · 5 months

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Happy New Year! 1/3 (Tumblr why)

My oldest posts that I did for New Year’s just started with that very simple title and I’m feeling nostalgic. But I also like the ‘Farewell’ of 2021 so I guess we’ll see what I stick with as time goes on. (Also dang, would you look at that, fucking COVID is still around.)

Part 2 || Part 3

It’s funny, the more time goes on the more I actually want (as in: I remember and am then driven) to get stuff done ahead of time. All through school (which was forever ago) I really struggled with doing any task that wasn’t immediate. Homework didn’t exist until the night before (and the only reason I didn’t forget entirely was because I talked to people who would ask if I was done and I’d go Oh Shit), any basic task anyone asked me to do I would forget existed because it couldn’t be done immediately (and I also chaffed under tasks being sprung on me out of nowhere that had to be done immediately). Now I get the urge to do things ahead of time, with the same focus and drive that usually only showed up when something was ‘due’. The former is still a problem for a lot of things but somehow my brain has decided that sometimes we can and will remember to do a task ahead of time and get it done.

Which is to say I am currently writing this from December 26, 2023 and whenever I get tired of writing it today I’ll pick up tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, until I post it. I just decided: Fuck it, instead of binge-writing this right at the end of the year we’re basically at the end of the year and I just want to chill the fuck out. I just had a mad dash to write something for my sister I don’t want to mad-dash write again. I think I wrote last year’s write-up a few days before but this time I want to be so deliberately chill. I just want to gently coast up to the new year. Which is good because I did a stupid amount of things this year and this has been the longest year-wrap-up I’ve ever done. Is anyone actually going to read this to the end? Maybe but these are mostly for me. I always like scrolling back through these and this year is a doozy. Who gave me the gumption to do so much stuff. And despite all that I just said It is January 1st and I am mad-dashing writing the second half of this and editing it.

Without further ado let’s get into it.

I dropped my goal to 25 books because I was in the last week of the year at 26 out of 30 books read like “yeah I can read 4 books in a week” and then I was like “yeah but… fuck it let’s not.” Why barrel towards the end of the year, panic reading books to reach some arbitrary number I set for myself. That’s not really how I want to read and experience books so… I won’t. I read 26 books this year and 17 graphic novels for a total of 43. Which is only 4 lower than my total from last year so despite reading a lot less that’s not bad at all.

I kept it the same as the previous year: Read for 30m a day, catch up days allowed. At this point what I usually wind up doing is reading a lot on one day and counting it toward multiple days. Same amount of time reading, but doing it in chunks. If I read for 6 hours on one day I highlight 12 days (30 minutes a day) on the calendar. That might sound confusing but my main focus is having spent the time reading and doing a task every single day just does not work with my brain.

I do it this way because the time-spent is the same but filling out a calendar like this is way more satisfying than just highlighting one day that I spent a lot of time reading on. Anyway as you can see my summer was largely spent not reading. A huge chunk of my summer my brain was taken up by wrapping my sister’s car (more on that later), from May to August I basically read almost nothing. It’s hard to remember to highlight in the calendar for other tasks I do (especially when it’s a task where I don’t know exactly how much of my time it will be taking up) but I do think it would be fun to be able to have a highlight calendar (or time track in some other way) to be able to see what I was doing when something didn’t happen on another calendar. I don’t have a super feasible way to set that up, though (as fun as it would be) so I don’t think I’ll be doing that.

Anyway, as always, I love the goodreads yearly recap:

Once again my average rating is “high” not because every book I read this year ruled but because I now use stars as a “would recommend”, “would probably recommend”, “my feelings are so Nothing I neither recommend nor not recommend”, “mostly don’t recommend”, and “do not read this” instead of the recommended level of how much I liked it. This means not a lot of books wind up below 3 stars anymore. I am also increasingly perplexed when I look at reviews for a book, see someone said nothing but good things about a book… and rated it three stars. It’s like dang, what does three stars mean to you.

I was shocked to see how few people had shelved The Game of 100 Candles though. I don’t know if people are scared away from it because that series is technically part of a table top role-playing game universe but the books absolutely stand up as their own thing. I’ll talk about it more in a bit, and then probably again when the final book comes out. But here’s the wall of books I read this year:

When I was thinking about what I read this year I could only really think of the books I had read recently and was like “man I don’t think I really read anything super good this year” but I did have some fun, cozy reads in there. So as has become custom I’m going to talk about some. Just so I don’t keep going forever I’m going to do a ‘top five’ kind of thing and then some honorable mentions.

As mentioned I was utterly shocked that Marie Brennan’s The Game of 100 Candles was shelved so few times and looking back at the first book, The Night Parade of 100 Demons, it’s only been rated 132 times (which is still 100 times more than the second book). This series isn’t done yet but it’s such a delightful and heartwarming read. It’s basically this quiet samurai from a smaller clan who has a lot of secrets he has to keep a lid on for the best of his clan and himself who has to figure out what’s going on with the demons/yokai in this village on the edge of their territory. Meanwhile another, bigger and more wealthy, clan has sent one of their much more extroverted scholars to the same village to also see what’s going on. They both have things to hide from each other but wind up falling for each other. It’s a really fun fantasy romp with a very sweet gay relationship that grows out of it.

Then the second book has them re-meeting and understanding the consequences of something they did in the first book so it also has some chronic illness (even if it’s magical and not 1:1 with anything in real life) representation. I’ve found both books very good so far and if anyone reading this is inclined to pick up anything I recommend I really hope it’s these. They’re so good.

So I really, really did not like Uprooted by the same author, Naomi Novik. A friend read this though and liked it overall and my sister-in-law happened to give me her copy (she didn’t like it) so I figured I may as well give it a shot and I was so pleasantly surprised. The way the faeries (which aren’t called faeries but whatever) work in this world is so cool, the magic is so cool, I really loved how the author managed to ride that thin line between everything feeling cohesive and like it ‘makes sense’ while relying on not overly explaining anything which means she had to rely on things ‘intuitively’ making sense which can be very hit or miss. It really hit for me and it was always fun getting to a point in the book where it felt like the plot was winding down only for it to get back up again. I was so delighted by this one I wanted to include it here.

Similarly I wanted to include this duology, The Assassin’s Curse Series by Cassandra Rose Clarke. I’m not sure I recommend them. The narrative voice is a little strong (I think it gets better in the second book but I also might have become desensitized to it) and overall the plot and characters aren’t anything to write home about. It did really scratch an itch I didn’t know I had for the most ridiculous ‘refusing to communicate’ relationship dynamic ever. I had a great time but I mostly wanted to mark these here on my New Year’s post because I read these a decade ago around the same time in the year and they’re a fun marker of how far I’ve come and how much the way I track books has come. I only had a rating for these from 2013, and now I have a long document of notes. I don’t know if I actually will reread these in another decade, but if I do it will be fun to compare how I feel then to how I feel now, and I wish I could have done the same to my 2013 self.

Going forward, though, I do want to re-read something I read a decade ago at least once a year. I think it will be fun especially once I start butting up against the books that do have notes written on them. I had a really good time with these and I want to continue circling back to what I’ve read before.

Hold Me Tight by Dr. Sue Johnson is a great read even if you’re not doing the exercises inside it. It’s a self-help book which I tend to roll my eyes at (maybe that’s unfair of me) but Dr. Johnson uses examples from her own practice and backs up claims and theories with scientific studies. It’s a really solid and insightful read, it took me a long time to get through because with nonfiction I tend to be much more thorough in my notes and I was reading this at the same time as other books but it was a phenomenal read. Even though it’s catered to romantic-relationships I honestly think it applies and shows insights that are applicable to any close relationship (romantic or platonic). I really enjoyed reading it.

I don’t see asexual characters often so Loveless by Alice Oseman really touched me. It’s funny, the first time I encountered ace representation in a book I really didn’t like it. I was, unfairly, annoyed that the author hadn’t captured my experience. And oh boy do I see a lot of that in the reviews of this book online, non-ace people upset that the asexual lead “shames” sexual people (she just doesn’t get it, which is not the same as shaming someone). Asexual people are upset that this isn’t their experience and remember fellow readers there are other ways of being asexual even though this book pretends there’s only one! (The book is told from one POV, of course it only reflects one experience.) There were things I really related to in this one, and other things I didn’t but overall it was a great read and I am very glad that there is so much more representation to be found in books these days.

So my actual honourable mentions are: Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree which was just a very charming, fun romp. I enjoyed my time with it and look forward to reading the second book. The Deep by Rivers Solomon which was insightful, depressing, and hopeful. It’s very short so if you look up the content warnings and think you can handle it I would absolutely recommend it. And Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata which is a very wild book that is maybe making an argument for fair wages for all or maybe ‘just’ a story about a neurodivergent queen, I don’t know.

The final two books in the Market of Monsters series by Rebecca Schaefer are on there because I mentioned the first book in my write-up for last year and while I overall had a really good time with the series (I find there’s always something almost relaxing about a book/series where the protagonists are terrible people) the ending left something to be desired. I’m not crazy about characters just going ‘yeah, we’re evil and we like it that way’ especially when the rest of the series was the character’s doing “evil” things because the other option was having evil done unto them. Oh well.

And Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett is peeking in because as far as I can tell people love this book (it came out this year and has been popular) but it really didn’t work for me. I’m spoiled because Marie Brennan’s Lady Trent series does what this is trying to do but succeeds, I just could not buy into the fiction that this is this woman’s journal from out in the field. I would enjoy myself when I forgot it was supposed to be a journal and then get annoyed every time I was reminded. I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more if it hadn’t bothered with the “this is a journal” conceit (or if it had done that well) but what can you do. It is a fun book, I get why people like it, but it was driving me wild (in a bad way).

And before I move onto graphic novels here’s some fun stuff from storygraph:

Onto graphic novels.

Ducks by Kate Beaton was the standout one here. Really incredible auto-biographical comic. My Wandering Warrior Existence by Kabi Nagata and The Girl that can’t get a Girlfriend by Mieri Hiranishi which were both really interesting auto-biographical comics that both revolved around sexuality and identity. Kabi Nagata’s comics, in general, can be very stressful to read but they’re so good. And the rest were fun! I was recommended the Given series made by Natasuki Kizu by a friend and it was charming, it’s not done and I haven’t checked in a while if more is out in English but, while charming, it hasn’t really captured me. Harley Quinn: The Animated Series: The Eat. Bang! Kill. Tour by Tee Franklin (and art and colour by Max Sarin and Marissa Louise respectively) was a really delightful little romp—and I have not watched Harley Quinn: The Animated Series. The art is just so freaking cute and while I have basically no knowledge or investment in the DC universe it was really nice seeing Ivy and Harley together. Horizon Zero Dawn: The Sunhawk by Anne Toole (and Ann Maulina doing the art) was mostly just amusing, I think it came out before Horizon Forbidden West did but I happened to read it right in the middle of Talanah’s quest in that game so I read the comic and then got to hear Talanah tell me about it in the game when I played it two days later. And finally The Adventure Zone: The Eleventh Hour was fun and, like always, just made me want to go and relisten to the podcast.

I’m making my goal 30 books again, and if some unforeseen project takes up the majority of my brain space I have no problem with dropping it to whatever it winds up being at the end of the year. And my filled in boxes will count for 30 minutes a day again. I’ve been setting the goodreads goal for the graphic novels to 5 just because chances are I’ll probably read at least five but it’s also not a hard goal.

Last year I mentioned wanting to read one book I own in my tbr pile for every library book I took out and looking at the books (not graphic novels) 15 out of the 26 were ones I owned (or were in my book pile being loaned to me by others) so that’s not bad! (The graphic novels I am also less pressed on this front—I have a small stack of them waiting to be read but 12 graphic novels take a lot less time for me to read than 12 novels.) I am pleased to have 15 fewer books in my tbr pile! Granted, two of those were books I had read a long time ago so they were previously on my not-tbr shelves but… well whatever.

I’m probably going to be watching a few more films after writing this as part of the lead up to New Years (I did, I have changed the numbers to reflect that) but, once again, the amount of movies/shows/etc. I’ve watched has again worked out to be in the 40s. I have watched 46 things this year, which is the exact same amount as last year. I am finding it really interesting that it always seems to work out to being in the 40s. I am extra tickled it’s the exact same amount as last year. Film I don’t really feel any desire nor make any effort to meet any sort of quota each year, I just sort’ve watch what I want to watch (or what I get roped into watching) and for the past four years it seems to work out to low-40s every single time. I am so, so curious to see if this is some sort of bizarre fluke or if this will continue into the future.

Just like with books, because a year is such a long length of time, without tracking what I watched this year it’s easy to sit here at the end of the year thinking I didn’t really see much. But then I look at my list of things I watched and go “holy shit I watched so many good things this year.” The power of tracking things, it’s incredible. As for new films/films-I-watched-for-the-first-time…

There’s some films from this year that I contemplated including on the graphic just to have them easy to spot as a reference point in time—like the Barbie movie and The Last of Us—because they were such big hits and while there’s more I really liked this year I didn’t want to make the image preposterously huge (says guy who wrote this before writing later sections in which they made preposterously huge images). And I also didn’t want to cram everything on in the weirdest way possible like I did last year (why did I do that).

Steph actually had me watch Knives Out and Glass Onion on New Year’s Day (which I don’t remember but that’s what I wrote down) and I really enjoyed both! I had been avoiding them because they just didn’t seem like my kind of thing but I was very glad to have been proven wrong.

I feel like I’ve been mostly out of the anime/manga world for a long time so I was surprised to see how much I had watched this year. Most of it I watched with friends and all of it was a good time even when the shows sucked. Chainsaw Man also surprised me, both because it is (so far) a very good show (I will cry if there is some kind of horrible training arc), and because Steph recommended it after not being sure if they would even finish the first season. I am very glad they did because this show is wicked cool. And then Trigun Stampede was so good that I started re-watching the 1998 show, and then all the friends I watched Stampede with wanted to watch the 1998 show so I stopped, and then nobody watched the 1998 show. Trigun Stampede was overall a delight even if I am mildly perplexed at the 1998 show had way more female characters than the new show does (but also Vash isn’t putting on a weird lecherous front and is just Baby so, it works out).

I waffled on whether or not to included Dungeons & Dragons: Honor among Thieves because it’s not like it was life changing or anything but I had a really good time watching it, and I had a really good time talking about it. It’s just a really fun film that didn’t feel like it was bogged down by trying to be anything else.

The Green Knight I had wanted to see since it came out and finally got around to it this year, twice, because the first time I watched it with someone who will usually fight me on putting on subtitles so I just had no idea what 90% of the words spoken meant the first time I watched it. Despite understanding almost nobody I really enjoyed every other aspect of the film and it was surprisingly watchable. Gorgeous film, great acting, great soundtrack, all over a fantastic time. The second time I watched it was with subtitles on and it still ruled.

It’s been such a long time since I read Nimona. I read it in its entirety when it was still online for free so I don’t know how long ago that was. After watching the film I wondered about going back to re-read it online and found that (I assume since being traditionally published) it’s no longer available. I’m glad for the author but also sad that we live in a capitalist hellscape that can’t let things be free. I have yet to re-read the comic and still plan to but the movie is gorgeous. I am so, so glad that more 3D movies are breaking away from the default style Disney had established when moving to 3D that everyone seemed afraid to stray too far from. I am genuinely so thankful we’re getting 3D movies with style now. Not to go on a tangent but I saw some video (or maybe it was a post?) recently where someone was going on about how the different art styles movies are being made in is now ‘less special’ because everyone is doing it and I don’t understand how someone could think more diverse styles could ever be a bad thing. People don’t do it to be ‘special’ people do it because they see beauty in different ways. Anyway. Nimona made me cry three times. I absolutely recommend it.

And of course, Spider-man: Across the Spider-verse. I went into this not knowing it was a two parter and I think that’s my only real upset with this movie. I was getting so nervous toward the end when I realized the runtime was almost up and there were so many loose ends to tie up, and then I realized it must be a two-parter. I was relieved to be right but also wish I went in knowing so I wouldn’t have to have the HOW ON EARTH ARE THEY GOING TO PULL THIS OFF stress. Otherwise this movie is more gorgeous than the original and I’m really liking where the story is going. I’ve been meaning to re-watch it and haven’t gotten around to it (I could not understand Hobbie on the first viewing) but this movie made me realize that physical media is getting harder to get. All the big stores have basically eradicated their movie/show sections and replaced all of that with one little ‘recent releases’ stand. Older things can still be ordered online but I am very nervous about all our media being in the hands of streaming companies and harder to own.

There were some other things I saw this year like, as mentioned, Barbie and The Last of Us that I also really enjoyed. Steph had me watched Midnight Mass which was sad but good. Vin and I watched the Lockwood & Co adaptation which was surprisingly good (and, of course, cancelled because why market something when you can just decide it failed). I’ve been watching a show called The Afterparty which I’m really enjoying.

I also re-watched a lot of things this year, many with friends.

I found out Vin hadn’t seen Moulin Rouge so I had to fix that. I don’t remember when the last time I watched this movie was but it’s so much fun and it looks like everyone had a good time acting in it. We had actually watched Van Helsing first (which ruled, for some reason in my memory this movie sucked but it was awesome and they do some astonishingly good looking stuff considering its age) and I can’t quite remember how Moulin Rouge came up (I am certain it was RP related, though) but when I realized the Duke in Moulin Rouge was the same actor as Count Dracula in Van Helsing that sealed the deal. I need to watch more of that man’s work, he’s a delight onscreen. I was also just totally shocked that it was Hugh Jackman as Van Helsing. I’m terrible with actors but when one I know is in something like this it’s always surprising to me.

Steph played the original Silent Hill game for all of us (which was also very fun) and we decided to watch the first Silent Hill movie afterwards as well. This was another one I hadn’t watched in years, I probably hadn’t watched it since I was a teen, and by default I seem to assume anything I saw a long time ago probably sucks. Once again I was proven wrong, the film’s not perfect but overall it’s a great watch. The costuming is incredible (especially for the monsters) which I did remember, but also:

Wow she looks awesome. Everyone was hooting and hollering when her helmet came off. (Shame about the jacket, though, and being a cop). And then Steph found us every lesbian amv they could with Cybil and Rose. It ruled.

We watched Darker than Black because, again, Vin had never seen it. I’ve rewatched this show a few times over the years and this is the first time I’ve watched further than Season 1. I didn’t enjoy Season 2 when I originally watched this show and never finished it, and still didn’t like Season 2 this time but the OVA for Season 2 was mysteriously really good. Izanagi’s design was awesome, though, even if nothing else was. The first season was also still really good, really cool, and I always forget about the weird this-must-have-been-inspired-by-Evangelion bit at the end. I will absolutely be watching the first season again at some point in the future, and maybe season 2’s OVA but not the rest. I’m not strong enough.

And I had the pleasure of showing my step-sister Howl’s Moving Castle. She had seen The Boy and the Heron and was interested in watching more Ghibli films and knew I liked them, so I decided to start with the one that everyone I’ve talked to lately says is their favourite Ghibli film (or one of their favourites if they can’t choose). It’s been a while since I last watched Howl and it was great to see it again. Steph and I also watched some more Ghibli films for New Year’s Eve and Princess Mononoke still rules and The Cat Returns remains as charming as ever.

I also rewatched Kill Bill this year which I enjoyed this time around a lot more than I did the last time I watched. Part of me is like: I should also write down my movie/show thoughts. The other part of me is like: Let’s not make homework for ourselves for everything we do. With stuff like this though it’s like man why did it hit so different. I rewatched some other stuff, too, of course but nothing I have much to say about.

I started 32 games this year and finished 32 (and 100%’d 4 of those). Spoilers: A huge chunk of that total number are Humongous Entertainment (HE) games that I played as a child. Let’s get into it.

I don’t know what happened last year with Nintendo’s thing but they are back to giving more info, unfortunately I barely touched my Switch this year.

By which I mean I played it a lot, but only two games. I think I almost exclusively played Splatfests this year after finishing the single player campaign and Pokemon Scarlet I have been picking at so slowly that I am still not done it (DLC just came out but I am still in the middle of the preceding DLC).

I’m assuming I missed the July splatfest, and I also missed the November one though I swear I chose a team so I don’t know what happened there. I guess I just got immediately distracted somehow. You may be wondering where Tears of the Kingdom is because everyone with a Switch played it this year. After hunting down a collector’s copy of Tears of the Kingdom, because I missed the pre-order for it somehow, instead of playing it I, for no real reason, decided I was going to play every single other Zelda instead and end it off with TotK.

So my 3DS and my N64 got more of a workout than my Switch did this year. For my Zelda-replay I mostly want to go in order but I wanted to start with the N64 titles first as those were my childhood Zeldas. Majora’s Mask is my favourite in the franchise, it’s the first Zelda I ever beat, and Ocarina of Time I never beat before starting this project. As a kid my friend’s brother would play on my OoT cartridge (his save file is still on it and I will never get rid of it) and then I’d just go mess around in his file. I was pretty familiar with the young-Link dungeons but almost all of the adult temples were a mystery to me. I got the 3DS version of the game at some point with the intention of finally playing OoT myself… and then still didn’t until this year. So I have now played: Majora’s Mask 3DS, Majora’s Mask N64, Ocarina of Time 3DS, Ocarina of Time: Master Quest 3DS, and before watching Ghibli films Steph and I finished off Ocarina of Time N64.

Images that make you feel nostalgic (I took this when trying to do the archery courses in Majora’s Mask because aiming is very hard when you only have one stick to do it on).

I don’t think I’m going to be playing every version available for the other entries in the Zelda series but as these ones have a special place in my heart and life I thought I’d do them justice that way. I’ve gone from knowing very little about Ocarina of Time to knowing where everything is in the game almost as well as I know Majora. I still think Majora is the stronger game overall and playing it like this it’s really clear to see how Majora, as a direct sequel, was improved on after Ocarina but it definitely has some totally mystifying problems that Ocarina didn’t have. (That said: The 3DS version ruins all the bosses in the game, they’re terrible, the N64 version is much better in how it feels to play. If you are going to play Majora’s Mask I recommend following a walkthrough, I adore this game but it definitely helps that at this point I know it so well that I almost never have to just wait around for things to happen because I can cram other things in if I have to wait for something.)

I don’t know how much time I spent playing the N64 Zeldas, but the 3DS does track that stuff and I played Majora’s Mask 3DS for 29 hours (sometimes a co-worker would play so I’m not sure how much of that time was her messing around) and Ocarina of Time 3D was almost 60 hours (so I’m assuming 30 hours for regular and 30 hours for Master Quest). I’m really looking forward to playing the rest of the Zeldas! My plan right now is to (finally) finish up some other games and play BotW as I play the oldest Zelda games just because it seems like TotK builds off BotW so I’m worried if I do those two in order I’ll wind up burnt out on TotK. I might not, but I also don’t want to risk it. Here’s my graphic for games I wanted to finish this year from last year:

Of the games I said I wanted to finish last year I was right in being so confident about Fahrenheit and Haunting Ground. As games that I was playing for friends it was a lot easier to be on top of them and beat them. Fahrenheit I even 100%’d because I have a weird obsession with 100%ing David Cage games (it was still a terrible game but was very fun to play with friends). Haunting Ground was a delight from start to finish, I know people want a remake but I’m not sure it’s the kind of game that would get made today.

.hack//G.U. I’m not too fussed on not finishing, it’s a long game and I was trying to show it to Vin so I’m not surprised it got lost in the shuffle. Pokemon Scarlet I’m also not fussed on having not finished because its DLC just came out—I beat all the base game stuff but haven’t done the DLC yet (well, I’m partway through the first DLC). That one I’ll finish this year, for sure. .hack//G.U. I’m not sure when I’ll return to it.

Horizon Forbidden West and Pokemon Legends Arceus I’m not sure how they kept slipping behind but I really want to beat those, preferably soon. I’m very good at getting busy with things, though, and then I feel too guilty to play games outside of times when I’m not doing it as a social activity with friends. I need to figure that out. Anyway for this upcoming year the ongoing games I have that I want to beat are:

I didn’t realize until I was reviewing this image that I accidentally went red-blue, blue-red, red-blue and I’m kind of laughing at how that turned out. I realize Folklore is more pink-y and Hades is really dark but the back and forth of red and blue games is amusing to me.

Three of these are the ones that slipped through the cracks this year that I already mentioned. Folklore I’m playing for friends right now (I’m having a good time but also what is even going on) so I’m pretty confident I’ll have that beat sooner than later. Hades I’ve been meaning to get back to forever, I mentioned it in my New Year’s post last year but maybe if I make it as a thing I can check-off next year I’ll actually get to it (or maybe not, who knows). And Tears of the Kingdom is here because that (should) be the last Zelda I play in my weird sudden desire for a Zelda marathon so by getting to and beating that one it means I’ve played all the rest.

Before I go over to steam I wanted to start chronicling the seasons of Fortnite I play through. I count each season as a game-played, and even though the experience is mostly social I still sink as many hours into a season of Fortnite as I would any single other game, so I wanted to start posting the season pictures as a memory-thing. Here they are:

And the most recent season is ongoing and won’t be done until sometime in 2024 (so I’ll post it on next year’s). I find it’s a fun social game to play, easy to hop on and off of, and while there’s a story the game is so gameplay focused that it really doesn’t matter if you do not pay attention to whatever anyone is yammering on about. I was shocked to discover there’s a community of people really into the Fortnite story. Good for them, I’m here to drive cars around the map excessively and be the quest-Adderall for my friends.

A friend had me try Destiny 2 earlier this year but I found the game weirdly ‘hostile.’ The gameplay itself is great, it feels really good to play, but the game does nothing to try and draw new players into the story in a way that feels good. We played for a while, I got up to rank 5 or something? Level 5? There was some weird progression thing and we got through all the basic-stuff and it was really trying to drive us into Lightfall-stuff (I think it was Lightfall that just released at the time) but the story was just incomprehensible. People are telling us to go places and do things and that some-guy is doing something and so on and so forth and it just felt weird. It didn’t help that I was having some bizarre computer issues at the time. I don’t know if I want to play more of it, honestly. I still have it on my computer and keep it updated just in case but I’m starting to wonder if I should free up that 100GB (jesus). Right now I really don’t need to, but I think about it.

The other social game I really got into this year was Plate Up!

I was introduced to it by a streamer, TheScareLab on Twitch, and it is so much fun. It’s a great game for me if I have a few minutes and don’t really want to get into something I can fire it up and work away at trying to make a fully automated restaurant (rng hates me) but it’s also very fun to play with others. Mostly it’s just me and my partner who play but sometimes other folks join in. The screencap is from their Halloween event I was delighting in being able to make hamburgers float in midair. There’s another holiday event on right now, actually, but I’ve been too busy with irl holiday stuff to check it out.

I love the steam recaps, both mine and looking at all my friends’ but I’ll just post mine here--OOPS Tumblr only lets you do 30 images per post and I'm unhinged, I'm unstoppable. To be continued in part two! I'll link it once it's up! Tumblr Why.

Next >>

#new year get better do better

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zukkaoru · 7 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @starrynightarchive and @feralshadowdemon, ty for the tag!! putting most of this under a cut since it's long lol

tagging (with no pressure): @that-was-anticlimactic @backhurtyy @rejectscanon

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

167 linked to my main ao3 account. maybe some others floating around that have been made anonymous or orphaned or something. who knows

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

965,845 - okay wow i did not realize i was that close to 1mil. huh

3. what fandoms do you write for?

well right now the bsd brainrot has taken hold of me and i cannot think of much else. but i do have a handful of zine fics for other fandoms that are in progress / will be posted eventually. i have a very long list of fandoms i have written for in the past; however, i would not recommend reading anything posted before 2021

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

plum blossom

you clutched my brain and eased my ailing

my calamitous love & insurmountable grief

five times ryan came out (and one time he couldn't)

(just wanna be) somebody i'm proud of

my disclaimer here is that these are absolutely nowhere even close to being by best fics and i kind of resent them being my top five

5. do you respond to comments

i'm trying🫠 i let like 600+ pile up in my inbox over the course of a year and a half (or more) and so i recently went through and just marked everything as read instead of actually responding. BUT (almost) all comments on fics posted since ~august 2023 will get responses. exceptions are if i literally don't know what to say bc i'm bad at talking to people sorry

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

you don't even want to know the horrors that showed up in my google docs this weekend. but also either if one of us dies or may we stay lost on our way home

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i'll go with this ultraviolet morning light just bc it's probably the greatest payoff since it takes longest to get to the happy ending

8. do you get hate on fics?

not typically but there have been a few mean comments over the years. actually i got one bookmark on a fic that's in a series for a fanweek that says "ignore the others in this series but this one is good" and honest to god it just made me laugh. like.. you do realize i can see that, right?

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i can barely write kiss scenes

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

i don't usually BUT when i was in middle school my friend and i created The Megacrossover, which consisted of us putting a bunch of different book characters into a hunger games arena. and we just kept adding more fandoms, and having new characters be transported into the arena. it was a good time. this was also entirely handwritten as all fanfiction should be when you're 10-12 years old

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge. definitely found one fic that was like. heavily influenced by mine back in my ouat days though

12. what's the longest you've spent working on a fic? and the shortest?

longest: over a year, at least shortest: a couple hours (not including editing)

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

not technically since the megacrossover but corey and i co-come up with ideas like. at least once a week

14. what's your all-time favorite ship? from all fandoms?

outlaw queen has to be my answer to this forever and always. never forgive never forget 🏹🍎

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

too many to answer. probably the biggest one is the azula-centric sequel to tuvml that i simply do not have the attention to write bc the hyperfixations have travelled elsewhere :( there are many many others though. i have an endless amount of ideas and not enough time

16. what are your writing strengths?

people often tell me i'm good at characterization and tbh i do pride myself on knowing characters better than 97% of the rest of the fandom. not all of the characters. but most of them.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

short attention span </3

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

do whatever you want forever. but like.. respectfully

19. first fandom you wrote for?

probably percy jackson when i was like 10. no you cannot find that anywhere online because i, like an idiot, deleted it without saving a backup copy

20. favorite fic you've written?

definitely (i am) the whisper of a memory. i love a lot of my fics, but that is one i am especially proud of because i tried new things with the formatting and i think it worked really really well

#can't remember if i've done this one before or not but if i have it has been a While #tag game #idk what else to say here. i'm tired

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hook-line-and-anarchy · 1 year

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More than a week behind on school work now (after being behind for several consecutive weeks) and I’m getting more exhausted being forced to listen to my dad’s frothing reactionary political rants and I keep seeing people on here writing incredibly knowledgeable posts about all kinds of diverse things while also talking about all their hobbies and projects and artworks and so on.

And I think about how the first time around I had a dogshit miserable time with college, failing deadlines and dropping classes and basically nothing I learned stuck and nothing I’ve tried to learn outside of schooling sticks in any useful and deep capacity. All of my projects are abandoned, it takes me an hour to read 10 pages, my bike has been unfinished for 6 months, I can’t remember how to garden. I’ve spent several years out of school at a job that destroyed whatever shred of self-esteem I had left and made me feel both totally incompetent and also alienated from other people. And for some dumbass reason I decided to try school again and I’m failing in all the same ways as the first time around.

Every once in a blue moon I’ll read a quote in a tumblr post or a snippet from a book or article and it will resonate with me in a way that gives me a taste of what it would be like to be a real intellectual and a usefully politically active person. I have a brief sense of the unattainable euphoria that would finally come from not only telling my dad to his face what a dipshit he is, but also systematically demolishing his entire bog-standard upper middle class small-business owner cop-brained homophobic xenophobic worldview. The bar is incredibly low. But that feeling never lasts long, and the reality is that most of the time I am left empty-headed and clueless. I remember nothing and I am nothing but a tool. I’ve lived only a small fraction of the life that many people even years younger than me have lived. I can’t keep up with the pace of daily life. Half the time on my days off I wake up at 4pm. I can’t drive and I spend the majority of my free time sitting in my bedroom. Sometimes I think I should’ve killed myself years ago, when it would have at least left other people with the impression that I could’ve been something. Instead I’m alive, and I have to live with the constant ache of my failure and mediocrity. I majored in sociology and yet on most days I couldn’t even participate in a basic conversation about social institutions. My coworkers all think I’m some kind of composting genius, whereas I can’t remember the last time I looked at my vegetable plants. An invisible, impenetrable wall separates me from the life I want to live, the people I want to love, and any useful cause I would aspire to be a part of.

#personal #public journaling on main #do not reblog

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 1 year

Text

I posted 6,598 times in 2022

That's 3,385 more posts than 2021!

4,216 posts created (64%)

2,382 posts reblogged (36%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@samuel-de-champagne-problems

@boldlyvoid

@reidsbookclub

@writer-in-theory

@fightingdragonswithwho

I tagged 6,227 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

#this is me rambling - 2,583 posts

#asks - 1,419 posts

#grecy 🩺 - 535 posts

#spencer reid - 340 posts

#spencer reid x reader - 224 posts

#criminal minds - 192 posts

#reid all about it - 189 posts

#self reblog - 178 posts

#ask games - 168 posts

#reblog - 163 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#he gave me a special valentines day card but i threw it out before my mother could find it bc even at like 6/7 i refused to talk about boys

My Top Posts in 2022:

Haircuts and Happy Endings

Summary: Spencer's partner is taken off guard when they see his new haircut

Word Count: 1450

Note: Ahh so this is written for Nat!! I hope you feel better & thank you for converting me to reason lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader | Rating: Sexually Suggestive (implied/fade to black sex)

Haircuts & Happy Endings

Some weeks, you could go days without seeing Spencer. You hate the days when you wake up to a cold bed and a silent apartment. It only makes you yearn for the mornings when coffee is brewing in the kitchen and books are waiting to be read.

Sadly, this week is starting to look like one of those long, lonely weeks. Talking on the phone and near constant texting can hardly cut it.

You just simply, miss Spencer.

You miss him so much that you neglect to read your book because you much rather read it sitting on opposite sides of the couch. The pair of you would choose a night spent reading over any date outside of the apartment. But the moment Spencer gets back, you'll be insisting to take him on a date outside of the apartment as well as an overgenerous amount of time spent inside the apartment, specifically the bedroom. It is hard to be annoyed at your boyfriend for never being home when he's out risking his life for the most vulnerable.

Technically, Spencer isn't away this week. He's just loaded with paperwork and lectures at Fredericksburg College, which means he slips out of bed at 5:00 am and slips into bed around 12:00 am. Each time, he does manage to kiss your forehead, but most times you're just still sleeping or too tired to wait up.

At this point, you're just too tired of all these near misses. You want those lazy mornings spent drinking coffee and eating pastries and reading books you've always wanted to read. You want those late nights spent loving each other how you've dreamt of being loved.

So, you're hellbent on waiting up for him. Even if you're notorious for knocking out before 10:00 pm on most days.

You've prepared yourself with three coffees, a pile of books, and re-runs of medical shows that make Spencer cringe with inaccuracies. Usually, you'd run your hands through his hair and tell him it's just for the drama. He'd roll his eyes and tell you that you can watch it only if you braid his hair.

And of course, you'd agree.

The show plays in the background, a quiet hum of comfort to your otherwise lonely night. All these days spent alone help your case for adopting a cat with Spencer. You know you can totally convince him with more promises of braiding his hair.

Checking your phone, you see that Spencer texted that he was on his way home twenty seven minutes ago. Given that you live a half hour from his work, you expect him to be home really soon. Reading your book and even watching re-runs of your favorite medical drama proves to be futile as you anxiously await Spencer's arrival.

Luckily, thinking about Spencer coming home is an excellent way to let the time pass. The next thing you know, you hear the door knob rattle as he makes his way in. Usually, you're long asleep, but suddenly the energy from all that caffeine proves true. You swing your feet out from under the blankets, rushing to meet Spencer at the door.

"Spencer!" you call, not caring that you look totally ridiculous running in your mismatch pajamas. You just missed him so much.

There's something....wrong.

You take him in. His eyes look the same, honey brown and slightly green. His smile is the same, sweet and kind. But his hair.

His hair. It's short?

"Y/N, god, I've missed you so much, darlin-" Spencer says, holding his hands out to you for what you know would be a bone crushing hug.

You stop him in his tracks, pushing your palm against his chest as you look him up and down.

"What the hell did you do you do to your hair?" you say, your voice rising a couple octaves as your realize exactly what he's done.

"I cut it?" Spencer says, sheepishly shrugging his shoulders as he realizes you've never seen his new hair yet.

"No shit, Sherlock," you say, walking around him in a circle to check out the new style, "It's so short. Oh my god, Spencer,"

"Y/N, it's just hair," Spencer chides, attempting to grab your hand as your continue to circle him, "It's just hair, darling,"

You shake your head, clearly still shocked about the new hair. It's so much shorter than it was just last week. His curls used to fall down passed his ears in brown waves, but now they lay restlessly on the top of his head. You can't say you don't like it. For all you care, he can be bald or dye it neon green and with a mohawk and you'd still be ridiculously in love with him.

"I just-"you say, this time too caught off guard to slip out of Spencer's grasp, "Hey!" you shout as Spencer's hands rest against your waist.

See the full post

808 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

Infinity and More - S.R. (SMUT)

Summary: Happy with their little family, Spencer and Reader think that it might just be time to expand it.

CW: Emotional smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, insecurities, oral sex (F receiving) (18 plus content)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Wife Reader

Word Count: 6,200

Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this! Remember, all reblogs, comments and notes mean the world to me!

MASTERLIST | LATEST FIC | Tell Me What You Thought

Infinity and More

Looking back, I’m still unsure of how it all started. Like I’m not sure how one or two choices led to all this imperfectly perfect mess. I love my perfectly imperfect mess, with the colorful toys littered around in the living room, the tiny sneakers that line the entryway wall, and the crayon marks that never seem to come off the walls.

I adore the toys and the sneakers and the crayon markers because it all comes together into our perfectly imperfect life we’ve made. Pictures line the walls and the smiling faces of my children and husband beam down on me. I like to look at them, seeing how Spencer and I age ever so slightly through the years. While Spencer and I’ve only changed a little bit, new glasses and hairstyles, our children grow into adorable little people who are perfect combinations of us both.

Nearly a decade and two children later, it would be safe to say that our family is complete. Maybe in a couple years the kids will beg for a dog and, of course, Spencer will join in on the begging. And, of course, I won’t be able to resist any of them.

Spencer leans against the doorway of the kitchen, still looking handsomely sleepy. He watches me and I pretend to not know he’s standing there.

It’s a Saturday. Which means bringing Auggie to chess at the public library and making sure Florence has her gear ready for softball. It’s a small enough task and there’s a certain serenity in knowing that in a couple hours the chaos of our house will all be gone and all that will remain is the comforting quiet of silence. It’s something rare in the house and, as much as I adore my children, I know I’m going to savor the quiet.

“The quiet before the storm,” Spencer says, as he walks over to the counter. I smile softly at him, enjoying the way that his glasses rest on the bridge of his nose. He’s lucky that he can look so effortlessly handsome this early in the morning. His white tee shirt is discolored with bleach and rumpled slightly, but somehow he makes it work, along with his pajama pants to sit dangerously low on his hips.

“You look like you slept well,” I muse, reaching to grab a mug from a high shelf. Spencer reaches along with me, brushing his fingers against the back of my hand, slightly telling that he’s got it, “Thanks,”

Spencer smiles back at me, setting the mug on the counter. He kisses my forehead quickly through a smile. “Of course,”

“I thought you’d try to sleep in. You don’t have to take August to chess till noon,”

“Well I woke up and you weren’t there,” Spencer says, taking the coffee pot and pouring me a mug, “And I missed you,”

Laughing deliciously, drunk on the lack of sleep and Spencer’s kisses, “You missed me? We spent the whole night together,”

Spencer nods sheepishly, ducking his head and twisting his body into a hug. I welcome it, eager to feel his body against my body. The steadiness of his heartbeat is soothing. There isn’t another body, besides my own, that I know better than Spencer’s. I know the way his heart skips beats when he gets nervous, the way his cheeks blush at my touches, and the way his eyes dart around my body when I’m close.

“Hmm. It’s never enough with you,” Spencer says sweetly. He breathes in my scent, nose and breath tickling my neck. He, after all these years, makes my skin tingle with anticipation.

The sweetest and tenderness of the moment, suddenly, is gone. The pair of steamy coffees are neglected on the counter. His hands are holding my face still as he looks at me like he wants to devour me. Spencer eyes are a mixture of light honey brown and a cool green. It’s my favorite color because it’s so effortlessly Spencer. Or maybe it’s my favorite color because it’s what love looks like to me.

Spencer tastes like coffee. His skin is still warm from sleep and his hands find their rightful place on my waist. He grabs bunches of my shirt, his shirt actually, as he kisses me with more fervor. I start to feel something burn inside. Eagerness. Desire. Need. Love. All of it circles me, making me dizzy off the taste of his hazelnut coffee and vanilla creamer.

“Mommy! Mommy! Daddy! Dad-”

The little voices are heard before their even smaller bodies materialize. Dressed in mismatching pajamas, the kids bound into the kitchen full of glee. Spencer smiles into the kiss, nipping my bottom lip with his teeth. I scrunch my nose at the interruption, allowing myself to have a selfish moment to be annoyed at my children.

“What are you doing to Mommy?” Florence says, walking towards Spencer and tugging on his shirt. She looks up at him, her eyes exact copies of her father’s eyes. They’re the same honey brown and the same cool green.

“Kissing her,” Spencer says, brushing Florence’s hair from her forehead, “Good morning, Florrie,” he says, kissing the top of her head.

“Why?” Auggie says, appearing, as always, on his sister’s heels, “It’s icky,” he says, making a face that causes him and Florence to burst into a fit of unstoppable giggles.

“Because she’s so pretty,” Spencer says, winking at me and kissing my cheek. He effectively causes the children to roar with laughter.

“So you kiss girls because they're pretty?” Auggie says, a curious wonder appearing on his face not unlike his father’s own countenance, “That’s really silly,”

See the full post

858 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

Phone Calls

Summary: Talking on the phone with your sister leaves you distracted so Spencer decides to take that into his own hands...literally.

CW: Sexual implications, fade to black smut, AFAB Reader (breasts are mentioned)

Word Count: 1220

Note: Sorry for the uninspired title....I'm tired and well at least the gif is pretty. Look at the pretty gif.

You always liked the mornings when Spencer would sleep in way after you. He's constantly running on less than 5 hours of sleep a night between odd hours at work and just terrible sleep habits as it is. You slipped out from the sheets when the sunlight dripped into your shared bedroom, careful to not disturb him as he slept.

Spencer looks so much younger as he sleeps. He curls his right hand underneath his chin and his left hand rests limply at his side. Usually, he'd have it wrapped around your waist, pulling you in so close that your bodies would be flush against each other. It's those tender moments, when you can feel his breath against your neck, that you crave when he's gone. Yet his touch is potent enough to feel, even when he's hundreds of miles away.

The small apartment kitchen is silent when you enter and as Spencer sleeps. You take out the coffee maker, hearing the familiar hum as it starts to warm up. Bea, a brown tabby with creamy white paws, smacks at the your pajama pant's drawstrings. She meows, pleading for the treats that are hidden in the cabinet.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo, rubbing behind her velvety ears. She stars to purr with content, clearly trying everything in her power to convince you to get her treats, "Fine,"

Giving up, you open the cabinet door and take out the treats. Beatrix meows more furiously as she smells the savory salmon cat treats, "Not too many," you tell her, dropping the treats in her dish and turning around to get the coffee mugs out.

When you moved to this apartment with Spencer, you had to make due with the mismatched dinnerware and thrifted furniture. It wouldn't be a wild guess to make that both of Spencer and your favorite part of moving in, despite actually living together, was doubling both your book and mug collections.

Books lay scattered around the tiny apartment, shoved into wooden bookshelves, piled high in corners, laying aimlessly on the coffee table. It seemed that everywhere you turned, books could be found. The same is with mugs. Spencer, each time he would go on case for work, would bring you home both a book and a mug. You loved the ritual of it, but you loved him coming home to you safe even more.

"Shh, now Bea, we're going to quiet. Spence's gotta get some sleep," you tell your cat, walking to the sage green colored loveseat that's wedged between two side tables with stacks and stacks of books.

The coffeemaker hums quietly, a soft soundtrack to an idyllic morning. The cat jumps up on your lap, purring still. You rub her ears and pet down her back, encouraging her to settle in as you read with the morning sunlight illuminating your book. She hits at the bedroom door, attempting to break through to find Spencer, who is hopefully still sleeping.

"I know," you whisper, walking over to pick out a book, "He's very cuddly in the morning, but maybe we'll convince him to take a nap with us after lunch," you say, scooping her up and kissing her head.

You crack open the book, reading to yourself and enjoying the easy Saturday. Unexpectedly, you phone buzzes. You decide to ignore it. Spencer's sleeping in the bedroom and if you're being honest with yourself, he's the only one you'd answer a text for right away.

A couple minutes pass by and your phone alerts you again. But this time it rings. Sighing you decide to answer it. Along with a plethora of other superhuman abilities, Spencer also has really good hearing.

"O, this better be good," you say, rolling your eyes as you answer your sister's phone call.

"Just wondering if you got mom a present yet for her birthday?" you sister asks, the question making your roll your eyes even further back.

"You mean for her birthday that is in two days?" you ask, "The birthday that I'm hosting at my place. Yes, O. Yes I did," you say, the hiding the biting sarcasm.

"Well there's no need to be rude about it," she snips back, "I am busy to you know,"

"I know," you say, drumming you hands on the counter, "It's not that, it's just-"

It takes nearly everything in you to remain composed. You feel a pair of hands grip your tee shirt and then slip on the sides of your bare torso.

Spencer's awake.

His hands explore your bare skin, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches. Gently, Spencer guides the phone away from your head, pushing it down to the counter.

His mouth is so close to your ear that you can feel his throat vibrate against your neck, “Keep talking,”

You raise the phone up to your ear, hearing your sister ramble on and on about how you she thinks that your mother would like an ice cream maker for her birthday. Her voice is nothing but a dull hum as Spencer pushes your shirt down your shoulder and kisses the bare skin.

"You know, Ang," you say, concentrating on the black outline of the backslash, "Mom's gonna like whatever you get her,"

It's getting increasingly harder to continue the conversation with your sister. Her voice is nothing but hard to understand warbles through the phone. Spencer’s hands are hot against your back. He kisses against the nape of your neck, his late morning subtle burning against your soft skin.

You vaguely hear your sister mention a couple gifts, but for the life you can’t even give her two seconds to focus on her words. Spencer smiles into the kiss, smirking against your skin. He seizes and opportunity when your sister catches you off guard, mentioning how your mother might like a new winter coat for her birthday, despite it being the hottest July on record.

See the full post

936 notes - Posted June 3, 2022

Your Something Else (+18)

Summary: Reader reveals to her boyfriend, Spencer, that she's never had sex. He takes it into his hands to change that, with her enthusiastic support of course

CW: Elements of Dom Spencer & Sub Reader, Virginity, Innocence Kink, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Breeding Kink, Mutual Masturbation through video conferencing, Implied Age Gap

Word Count: 3,800

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Author's Note: I hope you like this!! Let me know if you'd want a part 2 when they actually...(Also thank you to my love @reidsbookclub for reading this over!!)

Latest Fic | Tell Me What You Thought | Taglist

I can count the number of times Spencer's kissed me on two hands. It's the most I've been kissed in a very long time, so I don't blame myself for getting carried away by the feeling of his soft lips and strong hands on my body. Spencer's breathing into my neck, as I try to scoot closer and closer to his body in his car. It's almost like that typical teenage experience that we both missed out on: making out in cars on a summer night. I can tell, sitting in his car with his hand brushing against my chin, that we both crave it.

“Spence..Spencer, wait. Please,” I say, the uncertainty in the words making Spencer drop his hands immediately.

“Did I do something wrong?” Spencer asks, his eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read me, which he probably is trying to do, knowing him, “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me, sweetheart. I’m not going to mad or anything,”

“No, no,” I whisper, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, “It’s me. It’s not you, Spencer. It’s a little embarrassing,” I admit, looking down at where your and Spencer’s hands interlock. His hands, bigger and a little more worn, are warm against my cool ones. It might be a little silly, but I like to look at his hands, especially when his hands gleefully embrace my hands. I haven’t had many hands to hold before Spencer.

“What do you mean?” Spencer asks, his thumb runs over the back of my hand nearly melting away all my doubts and insecurities. Nearly.

“It’s just,” I mumble, the words unable to materialize due to my mortification, “It’s silly, really. All of this is just made up. I’m a virgin,” I whisper, lowering my voice at that last word, “And I really, really like you, Spencer. Like I think I love you. And I want to do those things with you. It’s kind of all I can think about when I look at you. But I’m so clumsy and nervous and just…”

“I know,” Spencer says, but a layer of regret flashes across his face right as the words slip out, “No, what I mean is. I know you’re a virgin. But that doesn’t matter to me. It’s a ridiculous thing rooted in patriarchy. It’s entirely made up, like you said,” he continues, drawing shapes across the palm of my hand with his fingers.

“You knew,” I say, feeling a little more embarrassed that he knew this entire time, “Is that, is that why you didn’t push for anything to happen,” I venture.

“No, well. Partly?” Spencer offers, “I figured it out based on the way you reacted to when I kissed you, or when I touched you, or held you hand or really anything,”

“Oh,” I say, the wave of embarrassment becoming almost too much at his point. I feel like I’m a pathetic little insect trapped under a microscope. But when I gain the courage to look back up at him, Spencer’s eyes are full of nothing, but love. I didn’t realize that eyes could be so beautiful until he came into my life, “Sorry, I’m sure that was a total mood killer,” I say, the self-deprecation second nature at this point.

“Not at all,” Spencer whispers, a certain darkness in his voice that intrigues me, “On the contrary, it only made me more curious at the little noises I could get out of you,” he says, his hands, yet again, reach across the console to hold mine, “I only got a little taste of those whimpers you make when I kiss you innocently. But what I really want to hear is you unable to say anything but my name,”

My mouth, far beyond dry, parts in shock at Spencer’s words. Despite three months worth of sweet compliments, breathy kisses, and stolen touches, I’m still not used to all the attention, especially from someone as magnetically handsome as Spencer. He notices this, because of course he does, and smiles softly. Spencer’s fingers release themselves from my grasp and travel to my chin. He brushes the tips of his fingers against my lips and I let myself marvel at the feeling. Secretly, I wish he would slip his thumb into my mouth or grip my jaw with the intensity I know he holds back.

“Spencer. I didn’t think you thought of me like that,” I whisper, afraid to be too loud as if an increase in volume would shatter what we have, “I mean, I certainly thought about you like that, but. I don’t know,”

His mouth moves closer to my ear and I can feel his breath against my skin. There’s something so enchanting about him. He’s some magnetic force of a man that draws me closer and closer to him.

“I want to tell you just how I’ve thought about you,” he whispers into my ear, having a very different reason for whispering than I did. It makes the hair on my arms stand up. His hands drag across my bare arms, slipping the strap of my dress back up my shoulder, “I want to show you just how crazy you make me,”

“Spencer,” I choke out, his name nothing but a cry for help, like some sort of distress signal for someone who wants to be the opposite of saved, “Please, please show me,”

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Spencer asks, a teasing character to his voice making me more eager to see what he has in store, “To be the first one to make you whimper like that?”

“Yes. God, please. Yes,” I call out, the feeling of his finger brushing against my elbow making me mad at this point.

Spencer kisses along my jaw, leaving wet open mouth kisses against my skin. I should protest because the pressure he uses is sure to leave marks. But I don’t care. I want to be marked. I want the world to know I’m his, just as much as he’s mine.

“I’m not fucking you in my car, Y/N,” he says, his lips brushing a sensitive part of my skin. I feel sick suddenly and my head feels dizzy as Spencer pulls back, looking at me.

“Oh right,” I say, the unsteady quiver in my voice impossible to hide, “Those are nice leather seats. And sex is messy,”

“No,” Spencer says, leaning across the console again. I don’t even have time to wonder what he’s about to do before he’s kissing me against, “I don’t give a shit about the seats, Y/N. But your first time isn’t going to be a quickie in the back of my car,”

“Oh,” I say, suddenly chuckling nervously. Something resembling insecurity washed over Spencer’s face and she has a sneaking suspicion that he’s not entirely as he may seem, “Oh, no. Spencer, it’s…it’s not you. I’m not laughing at you at all. It’s just, my God, you’re so handsome and smart and I just still can’t believe you’re into me too? Like in my mind it’s just my wildest dreams to think that you’d like me as much as I like you,”

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1,039 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

OH MY GOD SPENCER GOING INTO WORK WITHOUT A WORRY IJ THE WORLD JUST AS USUAL AND EVERYONE IS STARING AND SNICKERING AND HES LIKE “what what what happened” and lil baby boy got treated so right he forgot you left hickeys all over his neck.

ahhh YES!! okay this will be very self-serving bc i am season 1 spencer's actual wife (sorry if that sounds conceited lmao) Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (16+ for making out/suggestive themes)

Elle, Penny, and Morgan were always talking about their conquests, much to Hotch's chagrin. They learned to save the more risqué conversations for the bullpen when Hotch is cornered by Strauss and other higher ups.

Naturally, the conversation alway ended with playfully teasing Spencer for never having any stories about his conquests because he's knee deep in a Monday morning crossword puzzle while they talk about their late Friday nights.

Till one night, Spencer has a late night of his own. It was months in the making, Spencer still spent a lot of the time researching old cases and solving cold cases on his own in the archives department. It took him nearly three weeks to stop blushing every time he walked by your desk because you're either smiling up at him, eager to talk to him about the latest book you've both read or writing notes to slip into the stacks and stacks of paperwork from old cases he asks you to xerox.

Finally....finally. He builds up the courage to ask you out on a date. And of course it goes spectacularly. He's so charming, so perfectly handsome and sweet. It takes a couple dates for the physical aspect to meet up to the emotional aspect. But Spencer would go feral the first time you made out. You would sit yourself in his lap, loving the soft pressure of his hands on your waist.

He would be so whiny when you place your hands on his jaw, guiding him up for a kiss. Spencer would have the softest, most kissable lips that would turn so red and swollen from the slightest bit of kissing. He would be so eager, whimpering at every little touch you give him. It would boost your confidence to the max hearing him, seeing him get so flustered and eager.

Since Spencer needs some more time to adjust to the physical aspects of your relationship he would be thrilled just to mess around on the couch and then fall asleep in soft pjs wrapped up in blankets together.

Unfortunately for Spencer, he failed to realize that he didn't wear a shirt that covered the plethora of marks on his neck and collarbone. He shed his scarf, giving Derek and Elle a quizzical look when the wolfwhistle at him. He would roll his eyes, prepared for their sibling-like teasing.

"Well, well, well. Looks like the boy genius finally swiped that v-card." Elle teased, nodding Spencer's way and throwing Derek a teasing look.

"Finally, dude." Derek would say, walking over to clap Spencer on the back. "I hope you tipped her well."

Spencer would be fuming, unable to stop himself from turning red with embarrassment at Elle and Derek’s teasing. If he had a sliver of confidence he would describe in great detail exactly what happened last night, including how his girlfriend has the same marks under her turtleneck.

But Spencer isn’t a very confident man. Instead, he would have to let fate play out in his favor. Before Elle could get another quip out or Derek would snicker again, you came rushing in baked goods and coffee in tow.

“Spence! Ah,” you said, rushing towards Spencer’s desk ignoring his coworkers curious glances, “you rushed out before I made coffee. And breakfast” you placed the muffin, blueberry and lemon and the travel mug of steaming black coffee on his desk with a smile.

“Thanks,” Spencer said, bashfully looking around at Derek and Elle’s surprised faces. You kissed his cheek, the red sting of embarrassment burning into his cheeks.

“You’re going to need that coffee. We were going at it all night.”

Spencer’s eyebrow raised with worry as he saw Elle and Derek swap curious glances. Fear flooded your face, eyes full of embarrassment and regret as Spencer’s eyes melt into an unfamiliar confidence.

He placed his hand against your hip, pulling you in close for a quick, chaste kiss. He smiled too much, the kind of smile that threatens to make his muscles ache.

“Morgan, Elle, I want you to meet, Y/N. She’s the department librarian. And my girlfriend,”

1,662 notes - Posted November 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #lmao grecy you made it before spencer

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myupostsheadcanons · 1 year

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Books “Read” in 2022

I listen to audio books during work to fill up the time instead of listening to the radio or pod casts. Often a good reader can make a bland book sound better than it is.

I rate these books not totally on literary quality, but by how much I enjoyed experiencing them. Fun Garbage >>> Boring Navel gazing.

List from 2021

Previous entries: 2020. 2019, 2018, 2017

https://www.listchallenges.com/audio-books-myu-read-in-2022

My Top Books/Series This Year

Shadow of the Gods & The Hunger of the Gods (The Bloodsworn Trilogy, Books 1 & 2) - John Gwynne - Was your favorite part of “The First Law” Series everything that happened in The North? It is cold and grim. Gods once ruled this land, but all that remains now is their bones and their descendants, those tainted with their blood. But someone is going around taking tainted children from their parents, a mother goes on a bloody rampage to get her son back from these people.

Suttree - Cormac McCarthy - dark/stark modern fiction. McCarthy is a master at making bleak and grim stories that show the dirty underbelly of people and society. The main character, Suttree, lives his life on the fringes of the underprivileged, having been exiled/turned his back on his previous life of wealth, escaping one set of social pressures to be faced with the turmoils of another.

Pit Bull - Bronwen Dickey - a book about the history of the Bull Terrier breed of dogs, the laws put in place to regulate ownership, the abuse these dogs go through, and what can be done to salvage the reputation of these dogs. A dog book that made me cry because I’ve own pitty’s and they are perhaps the best dogs we’ve ever owned.

The Demon-Haunted World - Carl Sagan - I highly recommend this book as an object lesson in how to use critical thinking skills and how to debunk basic conspiracy theories. Using science and basic logic Sagan debunks several ‘supernatural’ occurrences commonly believed as true among the superstitious, conspiracy nutwads, and alien abduction theorists.

The Raven Tower - Ann Leckie - Having one of the main characters be omnipresence and tell the story about the other protagonist by using gender-neutral language, by referring to them as “you” rather than he/she/them/they. Ann is solid when it comes to having complicated main characters that are on the LGBTQ spectrum and do it tactfully and not feel forced in. This is a stand alone book, and a fantasy. Good for someone that doesn’t want to read her Science Fiction work.

A Boy and His Dog at the End of the World - Gender Neutral Main Character. I know the author asks for reviews not to spoil it bc it is kind of a twist at the end, but I think the title itself turns the people that would find this a really good read “off” bc they aren’t looking for another “boy-focused adventure book”.... it isn’t. If you aren’t wanting a post-apocalyptic story as soul crushing to read like The Road or something deep but still appropriate for a tweenager to read.

Space Odyssey - Michael Benson - An in-depth documentary on the making of Kubrick’s iconic movie and Clark’s writing of the novelization. It doesn’t sugar coat that Kubrick was an ass, demanded perfection, spent hours on scenes, even broke laws on filming scenes that were ether cut or only a few seconds long. It does humanize him rather than paint him as a total demon. Clark also had many short comings. He was scammed out of money by his ex-wife, on the rights to the book/screenplay of 2001, having his finances tied up in a movie his boyfriend was making on the side, then had to fight against peddo allegations when he was older.

Other Favorite Books and Guilty Pleasures

Star Kingdom, Books 6, 7, 8, Asylum (Book 9) - Lindsay Buroker - The second half of my favorite series from last year. These books do not disappoint. I absolutely love the characters, how they interact off of one another, and the conclusion was so satisfying. Asylum should be considered a sequel more than a continuation, and Buroker has hinted at continuing on in the Star Kingdom universe soon.

The Emperor’s Edge (Books 1-3) - Lindsay Buroker - Ex-Cop and Former Royal Assassin team up to create a task-force to protect the young Emperor from within and outside threats. There is a “love triangle” but it isn’t insufferable, the way Buroker writes characters makes many of her romance subplots more digestible and no where near as sappy. The amount of sarcasm and snarky-witty dialogue in her writing is always a treat.

Roxy - Neil Shusterman - a good companion book to “Challenger Deep.” The framing device by giving the various drugs personas is well done, it makes a complicated subject easy to digest for 14-16 YA readers.

The Raybearer, Redemptor (The Raybearer, Books 1 & 2) - Jordan Ifueko - African Mythology Flavored Fantasy. Made for the Young Adult audience, so has the obligatory romance plot in the middle of it, but also has poly, lgbt, and ace relationships. The premise itself is set up around creating a “ruling council” of diverse characters, each bringing a unique magic skill/ability to the table, and the group having to learn to work together. “The younger generation fixing generational institutionalized violence, racism, and corruption.” with a bit of “Jesus and his 12 disciples, atoning for the sins of mankind.”

Too Many Curses - A. Lee Martinez - A satire/comedy fantasy about a kobolt hench that “inherits” the castle and all the responsibility of governing its cursed wacky inhabitants. It is a cute read, mild enough for a tween to read. A YA book that doesn't have a romance subplot in it.

The Sandman: Act 2 - Neil Gaiman - If you can’t wait for the show to make more episodes... the full-cast audio production is a good way to fill that void.

The Victorian City - Judith Flanders - One part biography on Charles Dickens, another part breaking down how daily life was during Victorian London. A good read for people wanting to write stories taking place during that time period or have a love for things like steampunk settings.

Slewfoot - Brom - those damn puritans. a woman wise in folk craft is sold into colonialism and has to struggle against the patriarchy of the church. God vs. Nature, both being portrayed as good and evil. It has a couple call-backs to Brom’s ‘Lost Gods’ but don’t have to read that book to understand what is going on.

Shards of Earth - Adrian Tchaikovsky - Earth is destroyed by Eldritch Space Horrors. The remainder of humanity has to deal with protecting their new home from the return of the Architects and survival among other alien races. Among the best-of-the-best of humanity defenders are the “Amazon Warrior Women” and genetically modified psychic pilots that can communicate with the ‘other side’. Rag-tag group of misfits suddenly find themselves front-and-center of the war for galactic survival.

Good Books, But Not Everybody’s Cup of Tea.

Provenance - Ann Lickie - Sequel to the “Ancillary Justice” books. It is more in tone with the second and third book than the first one. Lots of Politicking, but in a snarky kind of way.

N0S4A2 - Joe Hill - If you liked Steven King’s works, this takes place in the same universe as The Shining/IT/Pet Sematary (The SKEU... if you will). Same tone and quality as well.

Philip K. Dick’s Collected Works, Vol 2. - Has the short stories that inspired The Terminator and The Thing, as well as a few others I enjoyed. The one about the woman that believe the world revolved around her was neat and also played into Solipsism, the same philosophy that tied back into Jack Campbell’s “Pillars of Reality” series and how the magic system works there.

Flowers in the Attic - V. C. Andrews - if you are “ok” with ASOIAF’s Targaryans, you’ll be fine with this book. My mom said she read the rest of the books after I told her I read this one, I am not interested in the others bc the series becomes a Soap after this one. This book is closer to being a Gothic Horror (of the non supernatural type).

Hercule Poirot (The Complete Short Story Collection) - Agatha Christie - The cases aren’t really the important part, it is the character writing. Poirot will always win in the end.

The Blacktongue Thief - Christopher Buehlman - Trickster Main Character. The book is read by the author, in brogue. It has more singing in it than “The Kingkiller Chronicles” and that book’s main character was a Bard. This main character isn’t ashamed of being a morally gray character and the story doesn’t exaggerate his exploits.

Vampire Hunter D - Hideyuki Kikuchi - The light novels that inspired the future punk vampire genre. If you had seen the movie from the 80s, this expands on a lot of it and explains how their world works better.

Ex-Purgatory, Ex-Isle (Ex-Heroes, Books 4 and 5) - Peter Clines - EP is more fallout from the previous book. It is kind of cruel what happened to “The Karen”... but then, there are more than a few politicians that should have karma happen to them. “It couldn’t of happened to a better person.”

Existentially Challenged (The DEDA Files, book 2) - Yahtzee Croshaw - A satirical commentary on social media, using children for fame, and bogus faith healing.

Sorrowland - Rivers Solomon - Handles issues of racism and lgbtq. Southern Supernatural Horror. It uses the ‘transforming into another being’ as an allegory for the main character not to understand what is going on with her body and feelings, and why they aren’t normal and are being demonized.

The Wizards of Sevendor (Spellmonger, anthology), Arcanist, Footwizard (The Spellmonger, Books 12 & 13) - Terry Mancour - This is when this epic fantasy series takes a hard turn and becomes a science fiction series. If you read the series this far, just keep on reading. I only like the books that have Minalian as the main protagonist. The books where he isn’t in them very much nor the main focus can be skipped, as events do get summarized in other books later.

Ariadne: A Novel - Jennifer Saint - I liked this one more than “Daughters of Sparta” and “10,000 Ships” but not as much of “Circe.” The first half is “ok” it picks up in the second half after being left on the island.

Priest of Bones - Peter McLean - dirty, gritty, and grimy (with a pinch of dark sarcasm). A thief/thug earned his priesthood on the battlefield, returns home to “clean house” and ends up climbing social ladders and getting more trouble than bargained for.

A Case of Possession (Charm of the Magpies, book 2) - K. J. Charles - Like the first book, it has a decent mystery/crime plot that moves the story along and characters that don’t overstay their welcome... have to like MLM smexy scenes.

Boundless (The Lost Fleet: Outlands, Book 1) - Jack Campbell - the first book of a new Lost Fleet Series. The fleet is unable to stay in system as politics fester, so go on a deep space mission to talk to aliens.

Out of House and Home (Fred the Vampire Accountant) - Drew Hayes - shit just got suuuuper serious as the rivalries pick up between the vampire houses. A friend and their home is targeted, the group has to find a new place to live while they recover and plan their move.

Comet - Carl Sagan - it is half a biography on Edmond Halley, the guy the comet is named after, and the other half science behind how we discovered what they were made of before we could shoot rockets at them.

The Magician’s Guild, The Novice, The High Lord (Black Magician Trilogy, Books 1, 2 & 3) - Trudy Canavan - If you had read the “Shades of Magic” books, this series has the same tone/quality (it addresses homophobia and that some societies do treat people different shades of acceptance). Street Urchin finds out she has magic, has to run from the law, but ends up accepted into the magic school... which the head mage is a rather shady. The “ship” in the third book is just as shady.

Tongue Eater (Mage Errant, Book 6) - John Bierce - Revenge at any cost is too high of a price. It is a compare and contrast between how the main antagonist is going about to carry out their plans of revenge and the apprentice group are coping with the betrayal and the deaths of friends and family.

Average Sauce

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon - This book is over hyped. It is an average book that gets recommended to progressive-readers just because it has some representation. The exciting part of the plot doesn’t pick up until the dragon attacks the city 1/3 of the way into the book.

Belgarath The Sorcerer - David & Leigh Eddings - Made during that time when “strong female character” = bitch. If you can ignore the “boys-club” champion, the world building is rather solid.

The Color of Dragons - R. A. Salvatore - By the Numbers Fantasy. It is a Stand Alone, so if you are after a “one shot“ that isn’t very long and isn’t trying to be challenging on any issues.

Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City (Unconventional Heroes, Book 4) - L. G. Estrella - The Elf is still annoying, there is some repetition in information, the novelty isn’t as shinny as it was at the start, but the actual plot is picking up more.

The King Must Die / The Bull From the Sea - Mary Renault - The Story of Theseus, grounded less in mythology and more in reality. IE: the Labyrinth is a bull fighting ring, there is no actual Minotaur.

The House of Sixty Fathers - Meindert DeJong - A children’s book from the 50s that I read during a power outage. It is from the POV of a Chinese child during WWII. Full of Pro-Ally propaganda of the era.

Andria Vernon and the Superhero Industrial Complex & Andrea Vernon and the Big Axe Acquisition (Andrea Vernon, Book 2 & 3) - Alexander C. Kane - the humor is hit-or-miss, some of the character’s powers are pretty neat. I kept yelling “GLARE!” at random.

The Dragon’s Blade Trilogy - Michael. R. Miller - There are a lot of good things in this series, but it just didn’t “stand out” from other series of its kind. It is one of those series that characters “randomly” die, and the protagonists are vilified by history.

Elric of Melnibone (Vol 1.) - Michael Moorcock - The opening by Neil Gaiman is tone deaf to the rest of the stories. The stories themselves are reminiscent of old adventure stories like Conan and John Carter, and if you like those series, this would fit in quite well.

Machine Learning (Short Story Compilation) - Hugh Howey - I don’t remember half of the stories from this short story anthology. I do remember a couple and I thought were really good. There is a Wool/Silo story. The rest are rather PKD like.

Daughters of Sparta: A Novel - Not the best reinterpretation of the character’s I’ve came across. It tries to go “dark” in some places, but doesn’t quite get there.

The Penelopiad - Margaret Atwood - Interesting framing device, with the character telling her story from the after life to a modern person. It is part satire, part Greek Play.

The Science of Middle-Earth - Lehoucq, Mangin, Steyer - It’s educational. Not a whole lot else to say about it.

Casts and Outcasts, books 2 & 3 - Davis Ashura - Solid fantasy story, not a whole lot to make it stand out from the crowd. It has more of a South-East Asian flavor to it than a typical Westernized Fantasy story.

A Bad Deal for the Whole Galaxy, The Worst of All Possible Worlds (Salvagers, Books 2 & 3) - Alex White - It is Science Fiction with a Magic System. Read the first book last year, figured I would finish the rest of them. Group of misfits trying to save the galaxy. One of those average series that gets recommended more often because of people looking for books with main characters that are LGBTQ.

Tides of Fate (The Ronin Saga, Book 4) - Matthew Wolf - A series just interesting enough to pick up the next book each time one comes out. (Gather your new team member, go to magic city, fight the bad guys there, find clues to point to next city.)

Second Story Man, War of Posers, Skull and Thrones (Bad Guys, books 2, 3 & 4) - Eric Ugland - Eric Ugland - Lit-RPG Isekai series. The main character is morally gray and is trapped in the game world. It is very much “of the genera” but with more dark sarcasm.

Readable/Passable.

Robert E. Howard’s Conan the Cimmerian Barbarian Omnibus. - I don’t remember most of the stories. I actually found the blurbs before each story talking about the author more interesting.

The Wind’s Twelve Quarters - Ursula K. Le Guin - if you are a completionist, read this book. There is a couple stories from her Hanish and Earthsea series in here. The rest of the stories are on par with other contemporary authors at the time.

The Silmarillion - J. R. R. Tolkien - it is dense. there are few conversations. it would be difficult for anybody to adapt it into live action. it is like reading a bible and a guide book.

From Russia, With Love, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service - (James Bond) - Ian Fleming - what I realized while listening to these books, it isn’t the plot nor the characters, it is how things are described that are really well written.

The Hunt for Red October - Tom Clancy - you’re fine if you just watch the movie.

Bottom of the Barrel.

Between Planets - Heinlein - It isn’t necessarily a “bad book”... it is very much full of Heinleinisms. “Libertarians in Space.” The Farting Alien is the best character.

#myu reads #books read in 2022 #audio books of 2022 #booklr #book review

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physicsfox7 · 8 months

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Okay. Same rules as always apply: you can interact if you want to, or ignore this if you don't. As always, I know I'm a lot to handle.

I've had good mental health for over a week. Things were going great, I felt good, was sleeping, kind of eating (still struggling there, but usually 1+ meal a day, even if the + was an uncrustie), didn't have any intrusive thoughts. Then last night I could feel the spiral coming on, and for the dumbest trigger imaginable. For a totally irrational and juvenile and stupid reason. Which makes it even worse really.

It doesn't help that I may be getting sick, or I may already be sick. Not sure, and not sure where that might be going, but I know its not helping.

I mentioned recently that my friends are everything, my heart and soul. But probably 3 or 4 times a week I think to myself: "Wouldnt it be easier, safer, less hurtful if you just...didn't? Let your friends go, they were probably at least as happy when you weren't around. You can drift away from them, let the distance get wider, and you dont have to hurt anymore."

I dont mean friends like we talk once every few weeks or exchange letters or whatever. I mean the friends I can barely go a day without talking to them, the ones that I seek out to say hello to. If I leave, they wont notice for long, and I wont lay awake at night wondering if I said something wrong, if they havent said hi because they're mad at me, if this is all a colossal fuck up and they're screwing with me. Because it has happened. To me. Multiple times.

I guess I didn't realize just how much I let certain people in. Which is stupid, right? Because how can someone be so out of touch they didnt see the 6 foot layer of bullshit come down?

So, what if I didn't? What if I went back to just me and my partner, and my thoughts? How long before I crack in half? How long before I decide I cant handle it, I cant be that alone. I was able to do it once, when I was so much stronger. But I lay awake at night, after the first wave has passed, in a cold sweat. And my mind says you could stop the anxiety if you just get cold again.

I spent 10 years working. I know, I know. Everyone has had a job, has dedicated themselves to it. It was nearly all I had. In my family, you get up and you do your chores, then you go to work. When you get home, you make sure nobody else needs help with their stuff. If you're lucky, after exhausting yourself in manual labor for 12 or 14 hours a day, you can watch tv until your eyelids feel like iron. I cant tell you how many nights I fell asleep on the couch. The last time I went on "vacation", I had to help put a new roof on my parents house. When I was a teen and wed go visit family in NY, there were always chores. Mow the lawn, repaint the fence, redrywall your aunts house, put new decking down. Work was all I knew. Much to my surprise, people didnt do all of this all the time. They had downtime, they had reasonable hours, they had the ability to say no.

Thats another one. Saying no. Seems easy, right? I can type it to myself all day long. If I told my parents no about work, or side work, or any chore that fell into my lap because my sister said she didnt want to, I was punished. In a backwards and manipulative way. Suddenly none of my favorite foods were in the house, my room was never clean enough, I had to do all the dishes from dinner because it just didnt make sense to run the dishwasher.

So when I say I could just flip the switch and become cold again, my whole body goes into panic mode. My heart is racing right now because somewhere, someone is going to read this and know what is going on inside my head.

The only thing more terrifying to me than making an ass out of myself in front of my friends, more terrifying than them getting mad at me; is not having them. I honestly think it might kill me.

I let them in too far, and now what if they leave?

I guess I can't let them go after all. I hope that they don't want to be let go of.

This was only slightly more convoluted than usual. If you're insane enough to read this, I'm sorry to subject you to what is essentially word vomit. I need to get this out, or it will eat me alive. Never really understood what people meant by that until now, that holding certain things in can kill you, can devour you.

I'm afraid of getting hurt, and I'm too afraid to be alone. I just need to not push people away, even though that is my immediate response. Just take a step back for a day or two, its no big deal. Then suddenly four months have gone by, and they're either tired of trying or didn't care enough to in the first place. Hard to say which of those is worse.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, except everything is lined with razor blades to make it more interesting.

#mental health #word vomit #the thing that keeps me up at night #friendship #heartbreak #bad brain #hash tags are mind of like word clouds #part of me wishes i would just shut up #part of me hopes this helps me #anxiety #hash tags are kind of like word clouds #some day ill delete this stupid journal because my mental health wont be such an asshole #the best is yet to come #dont know how to say any of this to my friends

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519magazine · 1 year

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live-the-fangirl-life · 2 years

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New York City, United States

A World Away Part 7

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - World Travelers AU

Travel Tip #79: For the best experience in any city, try to pair the excitement of a tourist with the know-how of a local. Both perspectives will enlighten the other.

Part 6 | Fic Masterlist | MoodBoard | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

12,010 words

*******

“I’m so excited,” Lysandra beamed giddily to Elide who rolled her eyes but smirked in agreement. “We finally get to meet your mysterious, worldly man.”

The bustling sounds of Third Avenue were quieted by the terrace of flowers separating the outdoor tables from the rest of Manhattan. Aelin looked through the small spaces between half-open petals and watched as dark cars flew by, accented by the tell-tale bright yellow of a taxicab.

She snorted, going back to perusing the brunch menu. “He isn’t my anything. He’s just Rowan.” Aelin didn’t miss the sidelong glance her friends exchanged.

“I didn’t exactly mean it like that, but since you brought it up,” Lysandra drawled, sipping from her mimosa as a sly grin stretched across her face, widening at Aelin’s sigh. “This is Rowan we’re talking about. The same Rowan who met you halfway across the world for a four-day trek through the jungle.”

“It was not—” Aelin shook her head and put her menu down, but Elide cut in.

“The same Rowan with whom you spent an entire day in Marrakesh talking to,” The brunette raised a brow as Lysandra nodded fervently. “Completely blowing off your scheduled bazaar tour.”

“Okay,” the blonde tried to wave them off. “That wasn’t a big deal because I’d already been wandering around the bazaar—”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you spent hours catching up with a veritable stranger,” Lysandra retorted.

“He wasn’t a stranger. And it had been, like, seven months since we’d seen each other at that point.” Aelin argued, picking up her own glass of citrusy prosecco.

“Right,” Elide grinned. “Seven months since the two of you miraculously met in Santorini—”

“Technically we met on the boat to Santorini—”

“Where he was so enthralled by you,” Elide talked over her, trying to prove her point, “that he took your picture and used it as,” she turned towards Lysandra, feigning forgetfulness, and ignored the way Aelin sat back with her arms crossed, staring indignantly at them.

“His Enchanting Moment.” Lysandra finished helpfully.

Right. That had been a surprise. After Rowan had shown her the photo and brief magazine spread, Aelin went searching for the full edition. It wasn’t until a few weeks later while strolling through the streets of Barcelona that she found the magazine at a small roadside stand. She’d made friends with her hostel manager and got her to translate the multi-page article that held her image. Later, Aelin had found an English version which she bought as a keepsake along with a subscription to the magazine.

Aelin was saved from her friend’s prying by the waiter who came to take their orders. Once he’d walked away, she said, “Look, think whatever you want, just please don’t be weird when he’s here.”

Lysandra batted her eyelashes. “Why? Afraid we’ll embarrass you in front of your secret, jet-setting lover?”

Her friend laughed as Aelin threw a grape at her face. “I’m serious, Lys,” Aelin rolled her eyes, huffing a laugh as two of her closest friends teased her. “You too, Lochan. Rowan is my friend. Gods know it took us long enough to even get to that point. I don’t need you two meddling. And I really don’t want to lose my travel partner because you’ve somehow got it into your heads that there’s something between us.”

Her friends’ smirks softened, and they shared another look before Elide asked, “Is there something between you?”

That was complicated. So very complicated.

Aelin scoffed again but this time it felt a little hollow. “I’ve seen him a total of six times—”

“Tomorrow will make seven—”

“—in two years, El. And half of those were just us yelling and arguing with each other.”

Their food came, interrupting the conversation, but Lysandra leaned over and whispered, “Don’t think I missed how you didn’t actually answer El’s question.”

She didn’t respond as Lysandra sent her one last knowing look before thankfully steering the conversation elsewhere.

Two years. It had been two years since Rowan literally ran into her in Florence.

Sometimes, Aelin wondered how that irritable man had become such a central point in her life.

They talked all the time. Sharing stories of their adventures and the exciting things in their lives. It almost felt routine now to video call him after a busy explorative weekend to catch up. But it wasn’t just the big things, it was also the everyday mundane things like accidentally missing a train or ordering the wrong thing at a restaurant.

They had both tried to coordinate their schedules a dozen times in the last six and a half months, but it never seemed to work out. Which led them to the constant messaging and calls.

So, when she told Rowan about this celebration fundraiser that her parents—technically, the partnered companies of Galathynius Incorporated and Ashryver Assets—were throwing, and offered him an invitation sweetened with a bribe of seeing her, she’d been excitedly surprised at his immediate acceptance.

After Rowan had left Peru, Aelin stayed there for six more days. Then she’d spent three weeks doing just as she told him she would—she traveled through Bolivia to the Salar de Uyuni and walked across the mirror-like salt flats.

But then she had flown home to New York. And hadn’t left since.

Her parents were finally retiring from their roles as heads of the joint companies, and Aedion had spent the last six months under her parents’ wings, becoming more hands-on and in a place to easily transition towards leadership once her parents stepped down.

And Aelin, despite having no interest in working a corporate role, had grown up in the heart of the merged companies and knew the ins and outs of how to charm her way with the other Manhattan socialites. She had helped her cousin finalize contracts and secure donations, with this fundraiser being one of the last events to cement new partnerships before Aedion officially took over.

As much as she loved seeing her family, Aelin was getting antsy staying in one place for so long. She hoped having Rowan in the city would make her feel better. He always seemed to these days.

***

The flight wasn’t bad.

Rowan had learned in his years of traveling to always book the window seat so he wouldn’t have to constantly get up every time someone beside him needed to use the toilet. That, and the frequency of his flying had programmed him to be able to fall asleep as soon as he settled in. He’d felt the smooth take-off from Dublin and then they were touching down at JFK.

For once, he hadn’t brought his camera bag. It was odd, walking off the plane without the ever-present weight over his shoulder, but Rowan knew he didn’t want to spend the next few days with a lens in front of his face. Not when he hadn’t seen Aelin for half a year.

The thought of finally getting to see her in person again quickened his steps as he navigated towards baggage claim.

Rowan should’ve been expecting it. Especially given how much Aelin enjoyed teasing him.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to see her standing near baggage claim holding a large, brightly colored sign bedecked in glitter that read BUZZARD.

Rowan also shouldn’t have been surprised at how instantly his mood lifted to see her there, or the feeling he got when her own grin widened when she noticed him.

The closer he got, the more aggressively she gestured with the sign as if it was her personal mission to make as many people as possible aware that he was who she’d nicknamed after a bird.

Then he was standing in front of her. And then Aelin had her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a hug that he returned without hesitation. They were jostled as people moved around them and Aelin reluctantly stepped back.

“Hello Buzzard,” she grinned, her face shining with amusement and something else he couldn’t name.

He rolled his eyes but huffed a laugh, unable to stop the same grin from spreading across his face. “Aelin.”

She nudged his arm and said, “I’m so glad you were able to be here.” Her voice held a hint of a Manhattan accent that he hadn’t noticed before, her time back home must’ve brought out what she’d lost abroad.

“I had a good reason to come all this way.” He told her.

Aelin nodded, still smiling. “The party is going to be spectacular—you’ll love it.”

Rowan took a step forward, using the crowds of people as an excuse to be closer to her. “I wasn’t talking about the party.” He corrected, letting her hear what he wasn’t saying.

His words hung in the air as Aelin’s eyes widened a fraction. Something in her demeanor changed and Rowan swore her smile tugged upwards.

But the moment was interrupted by a muffled announcement about some flight arriving, and Aelin cleared her throat, blinking and dragging her eyes away from his. “Ready?”

“Yeah, let me just grab my bag,” he jerked his head towards the rotating conveyor belt slowly taking on more luggage as bags continued to get loaded off the plane.

Before he knew it, Rowan was sitting in the passenger seat of Aelin’s car, and they were driving towards the city.

“So,” Aelin reached over and turned down the music, keeping an eye on the traffic. “I know you’ve been to New York before, but I had a few ideas…”

They fell into an easy rhythm and soon Aelin was pulling the car into a garage just off Park Avenue. She got out, handing the keys to a nearby attendant.

Rowan walked around the car to get his bags from the trunk and shot her a questioning look. Aelin shrugged, “We have a few spots in here we pay for monthly. It’s nice to have the car nearby when you wanna get out of the city.” She waved goodbye to the attendant in thanks and Rowan followed as she walked out of the garage. “Aedion’s building is just around the block.”

“How’s it been living with him all these months?” Rowan asked, falling into step with her.

Aelin rolled her eyes and snorted. “Better than living with my parents. Aedion’s gone half the time at his girlfriend, Lysandra’s, place, and I get to pretend I have the apartment all to myself.”

He nodded, as much as he loved his parents, he wasn’t sure he could live with them for so long, having been on his own since university. “Lysandra—your arch-nemesis turned best friend turned cousin’s girlfriend,” Rowan recalled the details of Aelin’s friends from the countless conversations they’d had.

She laughed and pulled open the lobby door once they got to the building. “Gods, arch-nemesis, that sounds so dramatic.”

“Exactly why I wasn’t surprised you called her that.”

Aelin whirled and shot him a glare that was negated by the twitching of her lips.

“Ass.”

Rowan smirked, following Aelin into the elevator. “But not wrong.”

“Whatever. And for the record, she is my best friend first, Aedion’s girlfriend second.” she rolled her eyes but went on, “You’ll get to meet them and Elide tonight, we’re going for drinks in the West Village.” Aelin paused. “If you’re up for that, I mean. I didn't think about jetlag, fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve thought about jetlag.” She said the last bit more to herself and it came out laced with a longing he hadn’t expected.

“I slept on the plane,” he assured her. “No jetlag to worry about.”

She brightened at that. “Great.”

The elevator opened and Aelin strode out, leading him towards the only door on this side of the hall.

The apartment was spacious and bright in a way he hadn’t expected but realized probably made sense given who Aelin’s family was. The far wall was almost entirely made of windows, providing an unobstructed view over Central Park and the city beyond.

Hallways stretched both ways off the living room, one leading to a master bedroom (Aedion’s, and Lysandra’s whenever she stayed over) and a den (the current storage space for Aelin’s international book collection), while the other hall shot off from the kitchen and led to two bedrooms (Aelin’s and a guest room).

The kitchen flowed into the dining space and living room, all eccentrically decorated like it couldn’t settle on one particular style.

Aelin caught him checking out some of the pieces and pointed out, “That lamp over there, the mosaiced one, I got that on a day trip to Bosnia and Herzegovina. I had to find a way to ship it here right after because I only had my backpack on me.” She laughed, remembering.

Rowan snorted, setting his bag on the floor and nodding towards a wall of brightly colored, elaborate masks. “What about those?”

She ticked each one off, “First time to New Orleans, Venice during Carnival, New Orleans during Mardi Gras, and a Masquerade party in Berlin.”

He spotted all sorts of souvenirs and proof of her adventures, knowing without a doubt she had far more than what he could see. It was like being in a miniature museum of Aelin.

Aelin let him unpack before grabbing some snacks and spending the afternoon catching up on their time apart.

Rowan loved their messaging and video calls, but nothing could compare to the real thing.

***

They took the subway downtown and got to the bar shortly after she’d gotten a text from Elide confirming her and Rowan’s drink order.

She wove through the crowds, all too aware of how close Rowan walked behind her.

Aelin made a note to be careful of how much she drank tonight, she already felt intoxicated by Rowan’s presence. She didn’t need extra alcohol lowering her dwindling restraint. When he brushed against her back, pushed forward by someone hurrying past, he murmured an apology and she had to repress a shiver despite the warm atmosphere.

Thankfully, she spotted her friends in the back corner and headed towards them.

Elide noticed them first, her eyes widening as a sly smirk appeared. She arched a brow subtly enough that Aelin knew the look was just for her. Lysandra saw them next and set her cocktail down with a wide grin, dragging Aedion’s attention from her and to Aelin and Rowan at the end of the table.

“Hey, we made it!” Aelin grinned, raising her voice above the music. “Guys, this is Rowan.” She jerked her head unnecessarily at the unusually fidgety man beside her and then gestured to each of her friends. “Rowan, this is Elide, Lysandra, and my cousin Aedion.”

The ladies scooted further down the table as her cousin got up and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before holding a hand out to Rowan.

“Good to meet you, man,” Aedion said, grinning, as Rowan clasped his hand in a strong handshake. “We’ve all heard a lot about you.”

Rowan smirked and raised a brow at Aelin who glared at her cousin and shooed Rowan into the booth before sitting down at the end.

“Yeah,” Elide chimed in from Rowan’s other side, grinning her greeting as he and Aelin grabbed the two remaining drinks her friends had ordered for them. “It’s so nice to finally meet Mr. International Ignoramus.”

Rowan choked on his gin and tonic. “Excuse me?”

Aelin closed her eyes and muttered something about getting new friends.

She rolled her eyes at Elide and ignored the other’s laughter as she nudged Rowan and explained. “Do you remember on that ferry ride how when I asked you your name, I said you should tell me because you probably wouldn’t like the names I’d made up for you?” She shrugged, letting him fill in the blanks.

“International Ignoramus?” he asked incredulously. “Really?”

This time Aelin laughed, amused by the faint humor in his eyes as he questioned her.

“Mhm,” she grinned and leaned into him again. “That’s not even the worst one.”

Rowan loosed a sigh and shot her a long-suffering look that only made her laugh harder. “I don’t want to know.”

Lysandra snorted, ignoring his request. “You were also Dumbass Douchebag.”

“Worldly Wanker had a nice ring to it,” Aedion added, laughing.

Elide shook her head with a smirk, “I always liked Bitch-ass Birdbrain.”

Both Rowan and Aelin gaped at her friends. She, at least, was wondering if the floor beneath her could open up and swallow her whole.

Rowan sputtered a few times before whirling on her and demanding, “What is with you and calling me a bird?”

She grinned sheepishly. “You can’t really blame me…we didn’t get off to the best start.”

Rowan shook his head, choking out a laugh. “Buzzard wasn’t even something you thought up in the moment, was it? You’d had that one ready for a while,” he accused.

Aelin grinned wider, not denying it, and they all laughed at her and Rowan’s rocky beginnings.

An hour, and many more laughs later, Aelin was thrilled at how well Rowan fit with her friends. They were having a great time, and once they’d gotten past the nickname fiasco, she had more fun than she’d had in a while.

It made her happy to have all her favorite people together.

“I’ll get the next round, Aelin could you help me carry them over?” Lysandra asked, already hooking her arm through Aelin’s and pulling her from the table. Once they got to the bar and ordered their drinks, she swatted Aelin’s shoulder and hissed, “Aelin, why the hell are you two not together?”

Aelin’s brows flew up. “What?”

Her friend sighed but adamantly explained, “Oh, don’t give me that I have no idea what you’re talking about shit.” She waggled a finger in Aelin’s face, “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The chemistry? The sexual tension? I was sitting there just waiting for you both to say: ‘Surprise! We’ve been fucking this whole time.’”

Aelin huffed and grabbed two of the drinks the bartender passed them. “It’s not like that, Lys. Drop it. And I told you not to be weird, I don’t need you meddling.”

“That’s why I’m talking to you now.” Lysandra countered, looking pointedly at the bar and away from the table they’d just left. Her expression softened. “Babe, I felt like I was intruding on some private moment back there when all you two were doing was talking. All those inside jokes, the little glances when you think the other isn’t looking—not at all subtle, by the way. I haven’t seen you this…” she trailed off trying to find the right word. “Vibrant, since you came back to the city. Which is a little insulting,” she added, laughing.

Aelin snorted but couldn’t suppress the smile she felt growing, or the flutter in her chest as her friend so obviously liked the idea of her and Rowan together.

Lysandra grabbed the rest of the drinks, and they made their way back towards the table. Before they were within earshot, she finished, “I know it. El knows it. Even Aedion asked me if there was something between you two, and I love that man, but he never picks up on that kind of thing. All I’m saying is…don’t not go for it just because you’re scared of what might change.”

They got back to their group before Aelin could respond. A thousand thoughts flew through her mind at Lysandra’s words, and it must have shown on her face because Rowan shot her a concerned look as she reclaimed her seat next to him. Aelin waved him off and put a smile on.

She could overthink it later.

They went two more rounds before deciding to call it a night. Elide caught a taxi, waving goodbye and saying she’d see them at the fundraiser. Aelin, Rowan, Lysandra, and Aedion took an Uber back to the apartment; she and Rowan shared a wince as the couple disappeared down the opposite hall, their bodies already too intertwined for Aelin’s sanity.

Lysandra’s advice had, unfortunately, played on a constant loop. Like an annoyingly catchy song she couldn’t get out of her head. So, she mumbled goodnight to Rowan and quickly sequestered herself in her room, hoping a good night’s sleep would clear her mind…or offer some clarity.

***

Aelin barged into Rowan’s room the next morning, shocking him awake and getting a very distracting view of his bare chest as he flew up in alarm.

That didn’t help her when it came to considering Lysandra’s advice. Or maybe it did.

She blinked, hoping he didn’t notice her momentary pause, and announced that she had a full list of things she wanted to do and to be ready to go in a few minutes.

“The sun’s a-shining and time’s a-wasting,” she rambled, having no idea what she was saying. “I can promise you coffee and food.” She grinned overenthusiastically. “Let’s go!”

Then she rushed out to the living room and waited for Rowan to get ready as she willed her pulse to stop racing.

***

“I swear to gods,” Rowan lifted a hand as if to prove his point. “The little gremlin bit me. That’s the last time I work with a traveling zoo.”

Aelin laughed, tossing her head back, and felt the wind catch her hair. “Why were you photographing them at all?” She choked out between giggles, picturing Rowan’s ass getting bitten by a baby monkey. And then just Rowan’s ass.

He shrugged, lips twitching as he tried not to smirk, “They were touring around the British Isles and we did a small write-up about the company, normally those assignments don’t end with bite marks on my ass.”

Rowan winced and Aelin snorted at the disturbed look they garnered from the young mother passing them on the other side of the trail.

“Do you get a say in which assignments you take?” She asked through the last of her amusement.

Rowan shrugged and kept his eyes on the trail ahead of them.

After her promise of food and coffee, Aelin took Rowan to her bagel shop a few blocks away. When he dubiously eyed the line stretching almost outside the shop, she insisted the wait would be worth it.

They’d walked leisurely towards Central Park, staying mindful of the other pedestrians hurrying by. The morning was nice if a little breezy, and Aelin was glad she’d brought a light jacket as they each carried a large coffee and a fresh, loaded bagel, following the meandering trails of the park.

At her question, the laughter seemed to leave his face.

“No, not really.” He shrugged. “I mean, I have enough seniority to pick and choose to an extent, but only from the contracts already signed with the magazine.”

Aelin glanced sidelong at Rowan who was staring down the walkway in front of them, contemplative. She caught his quick look at her and raised a brow, waiting for him to go on.

“Actually, I’ve got some things in the works I haven’t told you about,” he hedged, and his voice held a thread of contained excitement.

“I’m listening,” she drawled, finishing her bagel and tossing the wrapper in the trash.

Rowan fixed her with a stern expression. “You can’t go around talking about yet.”

“My lips are sealed,” She smirked and mimed zipping her mouth shut only to immediately talk again. “Now I’m even more intrigued, what’s so secretive? Are you starting your own rival magazine?” she goaded with a grin.

Rowan huffed and rolled his eyes. “Actually, yes.”

Aelin stopped walking and Rowan turned back, a pace ahead, with a raised brow and a smirk at her shock.

“Wait, really?” her eyes were wide as she caught back up to him.

Rowan nodded. “I’ve been working with a few colleagues—friends—to create the plan for it.”

“Wow,” She grinned, pleased to see his face losing some of its guardedness at her support. “That’s amazing, Rowan.”

They sat down on a bench off to the side of the trail, right at the bend so they could still see the nearby pond.

“How’s that all gonna work?” Aelin asked, bending one leg on the bench and leaning against the armrest to face Rowan who stretched his arm across the back. “Do you all work together now? Are you just going to go in and quit one day, taking a chunk of the staff with you?”

“Kind of,” Rowan winced as he explained. “Only three of us work together right now. Lorcan, my own supervisor, is coming on as Editor. He’s used to making final calls and doesn’t mind the more logistically restrictive part of it. And Fenrys, who’ll head up the Public Relations and outreach—using his annoyingly effective charm to secure our contracts. I would, of course, direct Photography and work with the writers.”

Aelin liked the way Rowan talked. The more he told her about the project, the more animated he became. Aelin knew that despite how much he enjoyed the job he had now, he’d never been this inspired.

“My cousin, Enda, is a columnist for a small newspaper in Edinburgh, but he’ll be joining us as a chief writer. We’ve got a few other writers tentatively with us, but we won’t know for sure until we get this off the ground. Between us, we have the connections to get projects and stories right off the bat.”

Aelin propped her head on her hand, leaning against the back of the bench. “You’ve put a lot of work into this. How long have you been planning?”

Rowan finished his coffee and thought about it. “A couple of months?” he chuckled. “It started as a joke after our Editor-in-Chief made another ridiculous unilateral decision that ended with everyone having to essentially recreate their week’s work. But then it wasn’t a joke. And now we’re here.”

“Wait,” she cut in, her brain snagging on something he said. “You said your new editor was restricted. Isn’t that the most influential position?”

Rowan grinned, his face lighting up as if he’d been waiting for her to ask. “Technically, yes. I meant it's more physically restricting. See, we want to launch this as an online publication to start. Hopefully— eventually—we’ll transition into print too, but first and foremost, it’ll be digital.”

“That’ll definitely make it more accessible,” she commended, already thinking what else that could mean.

He nodded again. “Exactly. It would reach more people, it gives us more opportunities to grow, and we could work on projects that extend beyond Europe.”

Aelin’s heart was pounding in her chest as she added, almost tentatively, “You could work from anywhere you want.”

Rowan caught and held her gaze, his eyes full of intent. Dipping his chin, Rowan gave the barest of nods and confirmed, “I could work from anywhere I want.”

Something passed between them that Aelin couldn’t name, a mutual acknowledgment that neither dared to voice.

“How long—” her voice sounded strained so Aelin cleared her throat and asked again, “How long will it take before you can get it up and running?”

How long before we’re both untethered?

The way Rowan was looking at her made Aelin believe he knew exactly what she was thinking. Knew exactly what it implied.

He carded a hand through his hair and loosed a breath, and she felt like she needed to do the same. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of corporate bullshit we have to wade through and we’re still looking for a designer—”

“A digital designer?” she chimed in, sitting up straighter.

“Pretty much. It’s the Digital Editor and Designer.” Rowan rolled his eyes and hung his head back in frustration. “They’d be primarily working with Lorcan, and half the trouble is finding someone who can put up with him without wanting to run away or punch him.”

Aelin snorted at his disgruntled face and watched as a biker rode by with a dog running at his side.

“I’m not trying to insert myself in this,” she prefaced, and Rowan raised a brow. “But I know an amazing graphic designer who could probably knock your friend down a peg or two.” Aelin grinned as his brow rose further in skepticism

“Are you serious?” he sat up straighter. “Lorcan is a dick on a good day.”

“Oh, I’ve seen her tear down even the most dick-ish of men,” She laughed.

He arched a brow but leaned in, very interested in who she was talking about.

“Elide.” Aelin divulged, and his brows flew to his hairline. “She’s worked with GIAA—Galathynius Incorporated & Ashryver Assets—as a graphic designer in the marketing department for both divisions. Right now, she’s working more with Aedion as they transition him to Head Office. But that’s basically finalized, and I know for a fact she’s been looking for other projects. That’s not to say she’ll leave GIAA, but you could talk to her about this.”

Rowan listened and when she finished explaining his brows furrowed as if thinking how that could work.

“Now I’m just picturing Elide and Lorcan going toe to toe.” He choked on a laugh. “Yeah, she could definitely handle him. I’ll keep that in mind.”

***

They left the park shortly after, and Rowan marveled at how the massive, sprawling park fit so perfectly within the skyscrapers.

He felt lighter than he’d had in a while. It wasn’t like he’d been trying to hide his work plans from Aelin, but when he first started planning it seemed so intangible that why should he tell her when it most likely wouldn’t amount to anything. But it had. And the longer he put off talking about it, the weirder it felt to bring it up.

He was excited. For so many reasons he was itching to launch Coast to Cadre, but he wouldn’t lie and say he hadn’t thought about what it could mean to not have to be bound to Dublin.

And by the way she’d looked at him, Rowan swore Aelin was thinking the same thing.

Because that was one of the biggest obstacles, wasn’t it? Besides everything else that added pressure to his and Aelin’s relationship—friendship or otherwise—was the fact that she was always on the move. With the last six months being an exception, Aelin traveled wherever her feet took her. He loved that.

Despite the relative freedom afforded to him by his job, he was still forced to return to one place. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t go with her wherever she went. And he wouldn’t be that guy to ask her to stop traveling the way she does, for him.

All of that had been an unerring, colossal complication, and he’d resigned himself to make do with the fleeting time they had.

And now, for the first time, that had the potential to change.

They spent the rest of the afternoon hopping from attraction to attraction. Aelin brought him to the Museum of Modern Art, pulling him through the lines and up to the fifth floor to see Van Gogh’s Starry Night and Monet’s Agapanthus and Water Lilies in all their vivid, beautiful glory.

Afterward, they bought a hot dog and a gyro off a couple of street vendors, sharing their food on the steps of the New York Public Library.

“I’ve done Time Square,” Rowan assured her, and to his great amusement, she sighed in relief.

“Oh, thank gods, I don’t think I have the energy to brave Time Square this week,” Aelin admitted. “What about the Statue of Liberty?”

Snatching a falling piece of chicken from the gyro she held, Rowan nodded. “Yup, covered that.”

“Good. Empire State Building?”

“Most of the super touristy stuff I’ve done.” He guaranteed.

She arched a brow and reclined on the step behind her. “And you had the audacity to mock me when I say I do touristy things?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’ve also,” he ticked off on his fingers, recalling his last trip to New York, “walked across the Brooklyn bridge, been to Grand Central Station, and saw a Broadway show.”

“Which one?”

“The Lion King.”

“Nice.” She crumpled up her empty wrapper. “In that case, we have a bit more wiggle room in this week’s plans.”

Choosing to walk rather than use the subway or get a car, he and Aelin strolled the thirty-plus blocks back to Aedion’s apartment, making sure to stop for a dollar slice pizza on the way.

***

Rowan woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

Throwing on a shirt and a pair of joggers, he checked his phone before walking out of the guestroom and towards the kitchen.

Aelin faced the coffee pot, impatiently waiting by the way she was fidgeting with the mug in her hands for the pot to fill. Grumbling a few choice words at the thing, she turned her head and tiredly nodded to him as he opened the cabinet she’d pointed out to him when he’d first arrived, and pulled out a mug of his own.

No sooner had the machine finished pouring than Aelin snatched the pot and poured a cup of the steaming liquid.

“G’Morning,” she yawned, carefully handing him the pot.

“Morning.” Rowan grabbed it and hid his chuckle at her drowsy state. “Not making enough for your cousin?” he joked, putting the empty pot back on and making sure the machine was off.

She fell into a chair at the circular dining table and shook her head which sent her messily tied bun flopping side-to-side. “He was gone when I woke up. If he wants coffee, he can make another pot.” She yawned again and Rowan didn’t bother hiding his grin this time.

Rowan watched Aelin yawn again and drown her coffee in sweetened creamer. “What, you still need all that sugar after trying the authentic stuff in the Andes?” he teased, his smirk growing when she glared at him and held eye contact as she poured more into her mug.

“Buzzard.” She grumbled the nickname like it was a curse which only made him laugh and she rolled her eyes while failing to hold back a smirk.

Resituating herself in the chair, she closed her eyes and happily sipped at her coffee, breathing in the caramel aromas.

It presented Rowan the opportunity to really look at her. Aelin leaned back in the chair with one leg bent underneath her and the other propped on the corner of the seat, allowing her to rest her cheek against her knee. Her golden hair was messily thrown in a bun atop her head with straggling locks falling out around her face. She was wearing leggings and an old, oversized band tee that he thought she’d gotten at some concert.

With the warm morning light filtering through the large windows, she looked like the picture of contentment.

She seemed so at ease, so calm and peaceful.

He wanted to see her like this more often.

All the time.

A key jingled in the lock and Aedion pushed open the door for Lysandra who held two dress bags, and closed it after him while carrying a large supply of fresh bagels and what looked like more of Lysandra’s bags.

Aelin’s head popped up and her gaze followed Aedion as he strode to the kitchen. “Bagels?” she asked hopefully, not really needing an answer.

“Good morning to you too, Cous.” He snarked back, rolling his eyes but moving the food to the table where Rowan and Aelin sat.

She affectionately nudged Aedion’s shoulder as she uncurled from her chair and picked out her breakfast.

Lysandra came back in, having deposited the dresses in Aelin’s room along with her other supplies. The four of them settled at the table, fixing their own bagels with a variety of cream cheeses, lox, and butters.

“When you’re done—no rush, babe, but it’s almost noon—you should shower,” Lysandra instructed Aelin who merely arched a brow and took a bite of her everything bagel. “The hairstylist will be here in an hour and a half, and the makeup artist an hour after that.” She explained.

Aelin snorted but nodded, muttering something about her mother and every godsdamned time.

“So you ladies get to be pampered but Rowan and I have to do our own makeup?” Aedion mockingly scoffed. “Not fair.”

Lysandra rolled her eyes and Aelin snorted again.

“Don’t worry,” Rowan chimed in dryly, “I’ll make sure your eyeliner is even.”

Aedion threw an arm around the back of his girlfriend’s chair and leaned over saying something about only having one friend at this table. Rowan would have focused on how pleased he felt to hear Aedion call him a friend, regardless of whether or not he was teasing, but instead he focused on Aelin who’d laughed into her coffee and was wiping droplets off her nose as she looked at him in amusement.

He grinned at her, and in that moment, he suddenly wished he could casually drape his arm around her like the couple sitting next to them, without second-guessing himself.

They spent another thirty minutes eating and talking before Aelin excused herself to start getting ready. Not long after, Lysandra followed her, and then all they could hear from Aelin’s bedroom was loud, upbeat pop music that ended up playing for the next several hours.

After breakfast—or lunch, he supposed—Rowan sat in the living room, trying to catch up on emails. He wasn’t sure how Aedion spent the time besides twice letting in the stylists, just as Lysandra warned they’d come.

Rowan had just finished skimming another assignment request when Aedion sunk into the sofa cushion beside him, setting two beers down on the coffee table.

Grunting a thanks, Rowan shut his laptop and grabbed one of the beers, finding the cold drink blessedly refreshing. Aedion did the same and looked like he was trying to say something but kept choosing not to, opening and closing his mouth over and over.

“Something up?” Rowan asked, confused, shifting to face Aelin’s cousin more directly.

Aedion took another sip and clasped Rowan on the shoulder, leveling him with a serious expression.

“Look,” he started in a way that for some reason made Rowan’s gut sink. “I’m not gonna go all big brother on you.” He assured, which somehow didn’t make Rowan feel any more relaxed.

“Aedion,” Rowan tried to interject, but the man went on.

“For one, I don’t want to assume about anything between the two of you and make whatever it is awkward. And, frankly, because Aelin would kick my ass if she thought I was trying to have any say in who she does or doesn’t…whatever with.”

Nodding, Rowan kept his mouth shut and waited as the blond got his thoughts together and took a swig of his beer.

“I just want to tell you,” he paused again, and Rowan wished Aedion would just spit it out already.

Did he think Aelin shouldn’t see him anymore? Rowan doubted Aelin would listen, but he certainly didn’t want to be on her family’s bad side if somehow, someday, they became more than what they were.

Or maybe Aelin would listen, and this would be the last time she sought him out. No more adventures, no more daily messaging, no more—

“I want you to know that you make her happy.”

Rowan froze, his bottle halfway to his lips. He wasn’t expecting Aedion to say that. Lowering his beer, he cleared his head and met Aedion’s stare.

It took him a second to respond, “Good. I’m glad,” he replied steadily, trying to ignore what those words did to him. “She deserves to be happy.” And then he added, unable to help himself, “She makes me happy.”

Aedion watched him a moment longer then nodded, “Good. Right. Okay.” He jerked his head toward the tv, “You wanna play Mario Cart?”

The next forty minutes passed like that until they both decided it was finally time to get ready.

Music still poured from Aelin’s room as he walked by it, recognizing one of the songs he’d recommended to her a month or so ago.

Rowan quickly showered, shaved, and brushed his hair back. The silvery strands were long enough to annoy him when they fell into his eyes, but not long enough to do much else with them. He used a small bit of gel, hating the way it usually felt and looked, but just enough to keep the pieces in place.

Donning his trousers and dress shirt, Rowan deftly knotted his dark green tie, knowing how good it looked with his eyes. He thought he heard voices convene in the living room, so he quickly grabbed his phone, wallet, and passport—he’d taken enough trips with Fenrys to learn to always keep the document on hand—and walked out.

As he walked into the living room, Lysandra and Aedion were there checking the status of their car. The latter gave him a nod while the former looked him over with an approving smirk. Based on how made-up she was in her gown and styling, Rowan took the compliment.

“There’s a car coming for you and Aelin,” Aedion told him.

Lysandra nodded, “She has it on her phone, it’ll be here soon.” The brunette looked at her own phone as it chimed and Aedion grabbed his jacket. “Ours is here. We’ll see you soon.”

The couple was halfway out the door when Lysandra turned back towards Rowan, Aedion waiting for her in the hall. The brunette glanced over his shoulder then met his eyes and winked. Closing the door behind her, Rowan was left to question the feline smirk she wore.

He heard the click of heels on the hardwood floor behind him a moment later.

When Aelin walked in, Rowan forgot how to breathe.

He’d never seen anyone so beautiful.

She looked like the sun personified. The cowl-necked bodice was a pure, liquid satin melting into golden sequins that lined the hem and inched up her body, shining in the light like living flames. Her hair cascaded down one side in waves and showed off the thin, shimmery straps holding the dress up. Aelin’s bright red lips curved into a smile and then a smirk as he continued to stare dumbfounded at her.

“You…look…” he finally managed in a strangled voice, “Amazing.” Stupefying. Dazzling. Exquisite. Breathtaking. Mind-numbingly distracting.

Her smirk softened as her eyes trailed over him. “Thank you,” she crooned. “You clean up rather dashingly yourself.”

He may have preened a little at that.

Aelin walked towards the table to set her bag down and Rowan choked.

The dress was backless. It curved barely an inch above the swell of her ass, connected at a singular point to the thin straps he’d seen a moment before. That’s when he noticed the large slit up the leg of the gown, showing off her golden heels and miles of smooth, tanned leg.

She was actively trying to kill him.

“The car just arrived, are you ready?” She asked, a mischievous spark in her eye as she looked over her exposed shoulder at him.

All Rowan could do was grunt in confirmation.

Aelin flounced out of the apartment and Rowan used all his concentration and willpower to keep his pounding blood northward.

The drive was a blur. Rowan tried to pay attention as Aelin occasionally pointed out landmarks or special places, but he couldn’t stop the spiral his mind had tumbled down.

When they arrived at the venue, all Aelin had to do was wave at the doorman and security guards before she led Rowan across the lobby and towards the waiting elevator. If she noticed the way nearly everyone’s eyes tracked her as she went, she didn’t show it, just held her head high as her heels clicked against the marbled floor. Not a small part of Rowan was smug about being the one to walk in at her side.

Aelin stepped in first and Rowan followed, both turning to face the silver, polished doors that blocked out the ambient noise of the lobby, reflecting their own blurred selves back at them. The tension was palpable, and Rowan couldn’t stop from shooting glances at Aelin’s reflection, only to avert his eyes when she tried looking at him.

Rowan couldn’t figure out what to say so he kept his mouth shut. Aelin didn’t offer him any hints to what she was thinking, and the charged silence was only cut by a faint melody coming through the speaker. Instead, he focused on the floor number rising. How long was this godsdamned ride?

Aelin loosed a long breath and seemed to ready herself for whatever they were walking into.

He chanced another look at her reflection. He hadn’t exaggerated when he’d told her she looked amazing. If anything, that was an understatement. An unacceptably inferior understatement. Rowan could barely take his eyes off of her. Every shift she made, every step she took, caused the golden fabric to ripple and shine a myriad of glowing shades. It was mesmerizing. She was mesmerizing.

The elevator dinged and Rowan shook himself, having to use far too much effort. This wasn’t the time or place…to do any of the things Rowan wanted. Not when they were about to be surrounded by people Aelin was helping to impress. Not when he wasn’t unquestionably certain that she saw him as anything more than a friend.

It was like night and day stepping into the sparkling party. If the ride up had been stiflingly quiet, this was wholly the opposite.

Tasteful, lively music flowed from beyond the polished dancefloor—small enough to merely be a courtesy and not an invitation to spin one’s partner—that took up the center of the room. Tall, round tables covered in crisp off-white cloth surrounded it, each reflecting the warm glow of the lights and artful chandeliers. On one side there was a long table housing various plates of foods and desserts, capped on one end by an elaborate chocolate fountain that Rowan was sure had Aelin’s name written all over it.

Aelin walked in front of him, and Rowan cursed himself as his gaze drifted down her exposed back straight to her round ass perfectly encased in shimmery gold.

Fuck.

He forced his eyes back to the party and spotted a large champagne tower in one corner, the round long-stemmed glasses reminding him of something out of a nineteen-twenties speakeasy. A server approached them with a tray of those same crystal glasses, and both Rowan and Aelin took one before the server drifted away.

Rowan wouldn’t be convinced that anyone at this party looked as spectacular as the woman beside him, but he couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t close. As Rowan’s eyes darted around the room he was once again relieved that he’d brought his best suit—not that he would’ve worn something shabby, but each guest was dressed to the nines; impeccable tailoring, perfectly styled hair, what he was sure had to be designer everything.

“Fireheart, there you are!”

He and Aelin turned to see a middle-aged woman with Aelin’s eyes and the same, if not a little more silvery, golden hair, gracefully hurry towards them.

Rowan waited, feeling a bit out of place as Aelin hugged her mother in a warm, but quick, embrace.

“Everything looks great, you even managed to have someone change all the lightbulbs to a warmer tone in time,” Aelin told her with a soft smirk, nodding around, before angling herself to see both her mother and Rowan. “Mom, this is Rowan–”

“Oh, yes, the photographer,” her mother smiled at him, and Rowan took her outstretched hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Galathynius,” he told her and caught Aelin raising a brow at his formalities. “Thank you for having me tonight.”

“Evalin.” she insisted not unkindly. “And it’s no trouble; a friend of Aelin’s is always welcome.”

Her attention refocused on her daughter and sighed. “Your father should be around here somewhere. I lost him some point between greeting the Courtland’s and Ytger’s.”

Aelin snorted softly and sipped from her champagne glass. “He’s probably hiding in some unused office returning phone calls and doing his best to avoid all this.”

Evalin rolled her eyes with that same exasperated fondness he sometimes caught on Aelin’s face. “That man,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Well, I’ll find him soon, he knows he has to make a speech later.”

Rowan watched Aelin take a breath and close her eyes a second too long as her mother implored, “Are you sure I can’t convince you to come up and say a little something? You know how charismatic you can be, and it would make your father and me so happy to have you stand up there with us and your cousin.”

Aelin tipped her head back, finishing her champagne with a flourish, and flashed her mother a strained smile. “I am here to schmooze.” she drawled and Evalin rolled her eyes at her daughter’s response. “That’s what I said I would do, and that’s what I am happy to do. I can stand up there with you and dad in impassioned solidarity as we celebrate Aedion and the company, but I’m not going to make some speech. Aedion should be the one in the spotlight tonight.”

Rowan downed the rest of his champagne. As if anyone else could command the attention when you’re here, doing so effortlessly.

“And Lys and I already helped tweak what he’d planned to say. It’ll be fine.” Aelin finished.

A server walked by and both he and Aelin reached for fresh glasses, Evalin still nursing the one she’d carried over. “Fine,” her mother sighed in resignation. “Oh, look, there are the Havilliard’s. Come.” She looped her arm through Aelin’s and began to whisk her away.

Aelin looked back over her shoulder with an apologetic wince. Rowan waved her off with a lifted glass, he’d expected that she would be busy schmoozing most of the night and went to find something to eat.

Rowan soon found himself at one of the tables with an empty hors d'oeuvres plate, watching the guests float around the fundraiser.

He spotted one man walk in wearing a floral embroidered suit, one he thought Fenrys would probably be able to pull off, that Rowan knew had to be designer—and far above his paygrade. A couple arrived, dressed in the style all elderly, affluent people seemed to adopt; he thought he’d spotted the same pearl necklace on half a dozen of the older women.

A woman strode in shortly after wearing a fitted dark blue suit that seemed to shimmer in the light, ignoring everyone else and putting most other suits to shame.

Rowan leaned against the table, one eye on Aelin who was smiling brightly and nodding at something one of her parents’ friends was saying, and one eye on the elevator doors, interested to see who exactly came to a party like this.

The woman in blue surveyed the room and when her eyes landed on him, they lit in recognition before she strolled towards him, a small grin playing on her features.

“Rowan,” Elide greeted him with a nod as she came to lean on the other side of his table. “What do you think?” The brunette asked, lifting her glass to the bustling party.

He flagged over a server and grabbed two new glasses of champagne, handing Elide one and putting their finished ones on the now-empty tray. Briefly, Rowan wondered if this was the perfect opportunity to talk to her about his potential business proposal, but opted to wait until he’d run the idea by his other partners.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect,” he admitted, and by her snort, he hadn’t done a great job of hiding his disdain. It wasn’t that he hated things like this, no, that was a lie, he detested events like this. All the people, the unnecessary prepping and primping, the awful small talk—it wasn’t his idea of a good time.

Rowan’s eyes drifted back to Aelin, not having trouble finding her in the crowd despite her constant shuffling between conversations. She was why he was putting up with this party. And, fuck, she knocked the air from his lungs every time he laid eyes on her in that dress.

He took a long sip of champagne.

“Mmm,” Elide hummed knowingly, not missing a second of his internal struggle. “She’s good at this.”

They both watched Aelin continue to flatter and laugh with the wealthy men and women her family was hoping to coax into donating. She moved from person to person, radiating cool confidence and charm, and not once letting show how tiring it must be.

He had to keep reminding himself that it was a façade; all those too-wide grins and the way she would lean in and touch someone on the arm all the while encouraging them to open their hearts and investments. He knew it was a role she was playing.

But she played it exceedingly well.

***

She was exhausted.

Aelin was afraid her face would be forever distorted from the way she was near-constantly smiling.

Most of the people she’d been talking to were nice, some irreverent, and a lot just plain boring. She knew most of them, her family’s acquaintances. She’d been at some function or party not unlike this one, met someone’s uncle who worked with so-and-so’s sister who went to school with some person’s cousin—all the faces blurring together.

Right now, she was tuning out whatever this guy was saying. He seemed nice enough, but she was nodding along and trying to figure out when she could slip away for a plate of those chocolate-covered strawberries when her attention was snagged by movement in her periphery.

Aelin turned, her smile faltering as she watched the back of Rowan’s silver head disappear out onto one of the balconies. She caught Elide’s eye who stood at the same table she’d tracked Rowan leaving from, and furrowed her brows, silently asking her friend what happened, but Elide just gave her a pointed look and tried not to smile when Aelin whirled back to her conversation.

“Uh, excuse me,” she interrupted, only a little sorry as his brows raised and he stopped mid-sentence. She thanked the man, Sam, for his donation again and turned on her heel, grabbing a glass of champagne off a tray as she aimed for the balcony.

Aelin welcomed the warm breeze as she stepped into the night air. She could hear the cars zipping by below and the sounds of the city as the party faded with each step.

Rowan was leaning against the railing, resting his forearms on it, and holding a champagne glass in one hand. He seemed lost in thought, so she slowed her pace so she wouldn’t startle him. How bad would it be if a crystal glass was dropped from sixty stories up?

“Needed a breather?” She asked, coming to mirror his position next to him with her arms on the cool metal railing, raising a brow when he jerked at her voice.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and sipped his drink. “Yeah, just for a minute.”

“It’s a lot, I know.” Aelin closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her. “One of the many reasons why I can’t do this full-time.”

“You seemed awfully comfortable from where I was standing.” The words were bitter as they left his mouth.

Aelin’s head snapped around as her brows flew up only to see Rowan close his eyes and wince as if he hadn’t meant to say that. She blinked. If she had to guess, he sounded…jealous? The tips of his ears were turning red as he opened and closed his mouth, and Aelin figured he truly hadn’t meant to sound so possessive.

Maybe it was the champagne, but she decided she didn’t mind it.

Aelin tipped her head back and laughed.

“Believe me,” she told him, turning to face him as he cautiously waited for her response. “I’m much more comfortable right now.”

Aelin held his gaze, hoping he understood what she was trying to say.

Rowan exhaled slowly, the tension leaving his shoulders, and Aelin pursed her lips in amusement as she looked back over the city.

They stood in comfortable silence, both relieved to have a moment away from the party inside.

“So,” he mused.

She arched a brow but kept her eyes on the city. “So.”

“Fireheart?” he asked, and she felt him shift to look at her better which only served to lessen the distance between them.

“I was wondering if you caught that.” Huffing a laugh, Aelin nodded wryly. “She’s called me that since I was a kid. Her little fireheart.”

He chuckled and Aelin glanced sidelong at him, trying her best not to get distracted by the loose strands of hair blowing in the wind.

“It fits.” He murmured with a definitiveness that surprised her. The irrevocability of someone who sought a word that was at their fingertips yet unable to grasp it, finally gaining the clarity to do so.

When Aelin lifted her glass to finish her champagne, her shoulder brushed his and she realized how close they were to one another.

She glanced over again as a lock of her hair fluttered in the breeze, only to find Rowan already staring at her. Aelin couldn’t name exactly what she saw in his face but the intensity of it caused her breath to hitch.

The sounds of traffic and people and music faded away until all she could hear was her rapidly beating heart and the sharp breaths they both took in the minuscule space between them.

At that moment all she could focus on was the man next to her. Rowan. Her friend, her companion, her one-in-a-million chance encounter. She looked into his pine-green eyes and remembered all the times she’d wished she was in a moment like this one.

Time seemed to slow as she unconsciously leaned closer. Rowan’s eyes darted down to her parted lips as her tongue swiped across her lower one. Lifting his gaze, he caught hers in a magnetic grip. She didn’t dare say anything, afraid to break the fragile moment that was unfolding. She felt his short intake of breath, close enough to tickle her skin, and then she was closing her eyes.

“Has anyone seen my scarf?”

Aelin and Rowan sprang apart, startlingly jarred by the unexpected voice.

“Evangeline!” Aelin realized, recovering first, and furrowing her brows at the young girl’s obvious intoxication. She avoided Rowan’s stare burrowing into the side of her head and ignored the way her cheeks were heating up. She cleared her throat. “Scarf. Your scarf is around your shoulders. You’re enjoying the party, I see.”

“Oh,” The girl giggled and touched the light green pashmina she wore. “Found it.”

Despite Aelin’s embarrassment, she chuckled at the grinning college freshman. “First time having this much complimentary champagne?”

Evangeline seemed to think about it before nodding. “Yeah. Most of the parties I go to just have cheap beer.” She leaned against the stone wall and almost slipped when her shoulder missed the edge.

Aelin wrapped an arm around her waist. “Okay, let’s go find Lysandra.” When she knew her friend’s adopted sister wouldn’t fall on her face, Aelin half-turned to Rowan and, without meeting his eyes, stammered, “I’ve, uh, gotta help with this, her.”

Then she hurried back into the party.

***

Fuck.

What the hell just happened?

Rowan's head was spinning.

He almost kissed Aelin. He and Aelin almost kissed. Better yet, Aelin almost kissed him.

The grin he hadn’t realized he wore dropped when the moment caught up to him and he watched Aelin stumble over an excuse and flea before they could finish what they’d started.

Did she regret it? Was she only caught up in the moment and now they’ll have to live with that awkwardness?

Fuck.

No. Rowan wasn’t going to let this go—let her go.

He downed the rest of his champagne and turned on his heel to head back into the party and find Aelin.

The ringing of his phone jerked him to a stop, momentarily confusing him. He glanced back into the brightly lit room and groaned before pulling out his cellphone and frowning when Lorcan’s name flashed across the screen.

The crease between his brows deepened when he realized it had to be passed three in the morning in Dublin.

“What?” he wanted to cut straight to the point so he could hang up and talk to Aelin.

Lorcan’s grunt greeted him. “Whitethorn. We’ve got a situation and don’t get fucking pissed at me, this is coming from higher up.”

Agitation immediately filled him at the tone of his friend’s voice. The only person outranking Lorcan in their division was the Editor-in-Chief, Maeve herself. “What, Lorcan? I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“Yeah? So was I. My sleep's fucked. I got a call an hour ago that one of the asshole editors quit, no warning, and in a dick move deleted half of the spreads we need for next week’s publication.” He sighed over the speaker and Rowan closed his eyes, dreading the overtime he knew he’d have to put in when he got back.

Lorcan went on, “Maeve wants everyone working to fix it so we aren’t delayed. You’re on a flight back to Dublin asap.”

“I took a week off, she can’t go without my help for three more days? I don’t even write the articles.” Rowan let out a harsh laugh and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Fuck, fine, I’ll find a flight tomorrow.”

“No. I mean, you’re booked on a flight that’s leaving at one-thirty, your time, from JFK. There’s a car on its way to pick you up.”

Rowan said nothing as a ringing filled his ears.

“What? That’s ridiculous. She can’t do that” He seethed. “And how the fuck do you know where I am?”

“If you want to keep your godsdamned job, you’ll be on that flight. And your phone’s location is on, dumbass.” Lorcan cursed and yelled at someone on his end of the line. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but it’s out of my hands.”

Rowan hung up.

“Fuck!” he hissed and carded a furious hand through his hair.

That was it. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t stay under Maeve’s thumb; she used every bit of power she held over her employees and exploited their need to keep their job.

His shoulders slumped in resignation. Because it was true for him. He couldn’t just quit. Not now. Coast to Cadre was nowhere near ready to support him enough for him to lose his job.

He would quit. Rowan had never been more sure of that, this godsdamned summoning being the final nail in the coffin.

But right now, he had to leave.

“Fuck,” he breathed, drawing out the expletive again as he squeezed his eyes shut and dragged a hand down his face, pocketing his phone.

Rowan took one more breath and willed his temper to abate as he walked back into the party. The hum of chatter and music immediately drowned out the sound of the city below them.

His eyes scanned the room and zeroed in on Aelin. Instead of finding her with Lysandra like he thought he would, she was standing next to a man with coiffed black hair, smiling widely and leaning into his arm and they talked.

Was that it? Was she so unsettled by what happened between them that she immediately latched onto someone else? Somewhere, deep in his brain, he knew logically that wasn’t true—that wasn’t Aelin.

But he wasn’t thinking logically right now.

Rowan caught her eyes and clenched his jaw hard as her smile faltered. He made a beeline for the elevators, ignoring the scathing looks as he pushed through the crowd, and took one down to the lobby before Aelin could follow.

Unfortunately, he got caught in the people trying to go up and past the security guards, that another elevator dinged behind him and a voice he would always know, called out.

“Would you slow down for one second?” She huffed, near-jogging in her heels as she sped to keep up with him.

Rowan didn’t stop until he’d swung through the revolving door of the front lobby. He didn’t have to hear the click of her shoes on the pavement to know she hadn’t let him walk away without an explanation. “I have to go,” he gritted out.

She gripped his arm, forcing him to look at her. Strands of Aelin’s blonde hair blew around her face in the breeze. She waited until he gave her his full attention. “I see that.” She hissed, exasperated. “Why? And were you seriously going to walk out without saying goodbye? Without a word after what just happened up there?”

He jerked his arm out from beneath her hand. He missed the warmth of her touch almost immediately, but unfortunately, all his frustration and jealousy that had been simmering won out. “You don’t have to play pretend with me. My car will be here any minute and you can go back upstairs and finish your schmoozing.”

Aelin crossed her arms as her brows shot up and looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Pretend?” she scoffed. “Seriously, what the fuck is your problem. And, you still haven’t told me why you’re practically sprinting out of here.”

Rowan took a deep breath, trying to settle his temper before he said something he would regret. In a calmer voice, he explained, “I just got a call from my boss. One of our head editors went and quit without explanation, and the next issue of the magazine is set to go to publication this week. She needs all hands on deck, so I now have a ticket on the next flight to Dublin, which leaves in,” he twisted his wrist to look at his watch, ignoring the way Aelin’s expression grew dubious. “Two and half hours. There’s a car on its way to bring me to the airport. I don’t have time to backtrack through the city, I need to get through security and passport control, so if you could ship my things, I can pay you back however much it costs—”

Not for the first time, he was grateful he’d chosen to bring his passport.

“Let me get this straight,” she cut him off hotly and paced a few steps, unable to stay still. “Your boss calls you and demands you go back to work at nearly midnight on a Saturday, fly across the Atlantic on a flight leaving so soon that you don’t even have time to collect your things, and you agree to that at the drop of a hat?” her voice rose with every word before finally stepping closer to him and hissing, “And without so much as a goodbye?”

He couldn’t take it. Her frustration, her anger, her disappointment. He was upset, and her concerns were too much. Rowan snapped, his emotions fueling his words before he could stop himself. “I don’t have a choice—it’s my job, Aelin. You know, the thing that most people have so they can afford to live and eat and pay their bills.”

She scoffed loudly and narrowed her eyes at him, looking like she wanted to bite back at him. “Rowan, you know—"

But all the fight left him as soon as the words came out, and he loosed a long, heavy sigh. He felt tired—defeated. When he caught her stare again, she faltered, some of her anger dissipating as she took in his slumped shoulders and crestfallen face.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, trying to convey his regret and apology, encouraged by the fact that she didn’t pull her hand away when he gently took it in his. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you; you don’t deserve that. I’m not angry with you, it’s my boss, it’s this job, it’s this fucking situation—”

He stopped himself before he got too far off track and started again. He still couldn’t figure out what she was thinking but at least now she didn’t look like she wanted to kick him in the balls. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to leave, but I have to. And I’m sorry for trying to leave without saying goodbye. That wasn’t cool.”

“That was a dick move.” She corrected, a perfectly sculpted brow arched, and Rowan felt his lips twitch up. Both at his overwhelming relief that she was still listening to him, and at her using the same phrase Lorcan used earlier. He doubted either of them would like to know that.

Rowan nodded, interlacing their fingers and stepping closer. “A dick move, you’re right.”

Aelin stared at him for a long moment, trying to garner his level of sincerity. He squeezed her fingers in another silent apology and she looked down at their hands, rubbing her thumb over the back of his knuckle. He held back a shiver.

“Okay,” she said finally, looking back up at him. “When is the car supposed to get here?”

Rowan felt a weight lift off his shoulders, he hadn’t realized just how much he needed her to understand. “Any minute.”

The breeze picked up and Aelin crossed her arms to brace against the dip in temperature. As if on cue, a pair of headlights turned the corner, spotlighting them as the car pulled to a stop. Rowan wanted to say something else, tell her that he wanted nothing more than to say no, I won’t be flying overseas tonight. But he couldn’t.

There, engulfed in the bright light that blocked out the rest of the city, Aelin held his gaze and stepped towards him, searching his face until she found what she was looking for. Rowan held his breath as she rested her hands on his biceps and leaned forward to press her lips to his.

He was frozen for a split second, stunned by the feeling of her body pressed against his own. But then he rested his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, kissing her fiercely and trying to convey the feelings that had been mounting for two years. He was consumed by the feel of her, by the smell of her perfume, by her.

She slowly pulled away.

Rowan blinked. He was afraid the last few seconds were a figment of his imagination until he heard Aelin’s ragged breathing. Her eyes darted over his face and a small smile appeared as she took in his dazed expression.

“Have a nice flight, Rowan.” She whispered above the wind. Then she turned on her heel and walked back inside.

His brain finally caught up, and for the second time that night when all he wanted to do was chase after Aelin, he was interrupted. This time, by the loud blaring of a car horn that tore his attention from the retreating blonde and towards the car waiting to take him to the airport.

He opened the door but swung around and called back, just before she walked back into the building, “I’ll call you when I land!”

She paused and Rowan felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu as he waited to get into a car driving him to the airport, waiting on what she would say next.

Aelin turned, her eyes connecting with his as a smile blossomed on her face. Rowan felt his mouth curving up in time with hers.

“You better.” She called back in challenge.

His grin grew impossibly wider as he got into the car. Despite the mess he was walking into back home, Rowan felt like he could take on the world.

***

Part 8

*****

Taglist:

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#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aelin and rowan #rowan and aelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fluff #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #tog #awa #a world away #world travelers #new your city #lysandra ennar #aedion ashryver #elide lochan

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

dilf (and love) | knj | m

pairing: kim namjoon x oc

genre: fluff, domestic fluff, smut, established relationship, marriage and kids lol

warnings: light dom/sub themes, pregnancy kink, penetrative sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), DILF JOON

words: 6, 702

summary: it's been too long since you and namjoon had time to yourselves

“God take that thing away from me!” You whine as you smother your face with your hands.

Jin pins you with a dry look as he catches a glimpse of ‘that thing’ who is looking up at you with big eyes and a toothless grin.

“That thing is your child …” Jin says blandly.

“That thing is ruining my sex life.” You narrow your eyes at Chanmi as she babbles some incoherent words with her ten-month-old vocabulary. You’d think as the daughter and apple of Kim Namjoon’s eye that she’d be able to read, write and speak sixteen languages at the age of one.

You still allow Chanmi to wrap her chubby fingers around your thinner ones and you can’t help but coo at your daughter. While she may have been the one thing that disrupted any intimate moment between you and Namjoon, you would fight anyone that would ever dare to mess with her. Your own husband included.

“Please, spare the details,” Jin mutters under his breath as he watches Chanmi fondly as she attempts to tug at your sleeve in hopes of getting your attention. You squeeze her cheeks before lifting her up in your arms and hold her close to your chest. You whine because she smells so … fresh. Just like a little bread baby that was all yours.

God, you loved her.

“My old sex life brought me this angel.” You grin up at your daughter who just smiles at you, unknowing of the context of your words.

“Can you stop using such vulgar words in front of your child?” Jin scolds you but doesn’t do anything much to take Chanmi out of your grasp.

You roll your eyes.

“She’s like 300 days old. She doesn’t even know how to shit at a decent hour let alone understand what sex is. Penis in vagina. Destroying pussy. A hole in one. Railing—”

Jin slaps his hand over your mouth to get you to stop talking as he glares at you.

“Why did my brother marry a heathen like you.” Jin seethes.

You shrug nonchalantly as you turn your head to see your dumbhead yet smart-ass husband that was attempting to glue back the shards of glass from the wine glass he broke earlier in hopes of you not realising.

“He needed to put his 148 IQ to good use and I’m the best investment his finance major ever got him.”

“The only good thing that came out of your marriage is this cutie.” Jin coos at his niece and you have half the mind to withdraw his Chanmi visiting card because whenever he was over all he did was berate you and your … unique ways of parenting.

But Jin would still say he cared for you as far as a brother-in-law would but with the added benefit of the fact that he was your best friend before he became your brother-in-law. You were an interesting character, to say the least, and the only reason you managed to befriend Jin was due to the fact that you didn’t know what boundaries meant and had invaded his personal space on the first day of lectures when you leaned over him to throw something at a know-it-all. Jin had been annoyed, but then an unlikely friendship bloomed out of the mutual distaste for ‘Howard from Accounting’.

He introduced you to Namjoon just because he thought that it was hilarious that you and his brother were polar opposites. Jin didn’t even expect the two of you to get along with each other let alone fall in love, but life had a funny way of saying ‘fuck you and your expectations’ to Jin when he least expected it.

The only thing that he regrets is the fact that now he had to listen to both you and his brother whine about your sex life, or lack thereof after the two of you became parents. Being a mother was hard because there was no manual to tell you what was right or wrong when it came to your baby but the experience itself. When you first fed Chanmi softened shrimp in her meals and caused an allergic reaction; you cried for hours straight because you felt like you should’ve just known.

Namjoon was a good partner and an even better father because he was understanding. The first few months postpartum he respected the fact that you weren’t ready to show your body to him because of the way it changed after giving birth to Chanmi, and he never told you that you were in your head for feeling that way. He validated all your feelings through all the rough edges that you gave him when you were going through your own things.

You finally felt comfortable to get naked around Namjoon at the five-month mark where your sex drive returned to that of when you were in your early twenties and just begun knowing how to truly enjoy sexual intimacies with a partner, but a five-month-old baby didn’t allow for much intimacy with your hot ass husband either.

It sucked because Namjoon had always been broad and very dad-like, and after he officially became a father to Chanmi you just felt like salivating over him every waking second you got because … God … Namjoon was a gift from the God’s themselves. Whenever you saw the way he handled Chanmi with absolute gentleness and care you felt like dropping to your knees and sucking the soul out of him. It didn’t help that he wore his glasses every night when he tucked her into bed and read her Shakespeare because it would ‘help with development’. You loved your husband but he was a little excessive.

“Oh God stop drooling over my brother!” Jin grimaces when he sees the bedroom eyes you were shooting Namjoon from where the two of you were with Chanmi.

You sigh dreamily and lean against your palm as you check out Namjoon’s ass.

“I can’t help that your brother and my husband has an ass like that.” You click your tongue.

Chanmi giggles again and it’s like a bell chiming at your favourite cafe when you cuddle her closer, feeling comfort in her scent. She smelt just like home and bubbles.

“How about I give you a sibling, huh?” You whisper to Chanmi who just opens her mouth to babble. Jin on the other hand facepalms himself and sighs.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m horny.” You shrug.

“Correction: you’re insufferable on a daily basis but absolutely horrifying to deal with when you’re horny.” He sneers.

“I just need to bed him and I’ll be fine.” You drawl, as your husband who spent the better half of your conversation fixing the wine glass grins to himself with his dimples when he finally placed the last piece of glass back into place. He was so meticulous and cute for the wrong reasons.

“Jesus, stop …” Jin groans.

“Jesus would definitely tell me to go get that dick because I deserve it.” You pat yourself on the back and wince slightly when you smell the telltale signs of Chanmi’s poop permeating the air.

“Say … would Yoongi mind having Chanmi over your place for the weekend?” Jin recognizes the devious expression you have on your face and knows that there’s no way out of it.

“I don’t have a choice do I?” Jin sighs.

You shake your head.

“Nope. Cause’ I texted Yoongi yesterday and said he totally wants to see his niece. The baby bag is all ready to go and it’s in the nursery.” You cock your thumb to the room down the hallway and Jin thinks to himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t have introduced you to his brother at all seven years back.

“It’s weird without her …” Namjoon frowns as the two of you stand in the nursery as if you were mourning the loss of your child. It felt a lot like it, though.

The two of you never spent more than a few hours away from Chanmi ever since she was born and it felt weird to not smell her vomit from the kitchen or hear her giggles as you cooked dinner. You missed Namjoon and the spark you had in the first years of your relationship but you also felt a little empty without Chanmi’s presence with you.

“I miss her.” You whine into Namjoon’s chest and he clutches you tightly as if to say that he mirrored your sentiment.

“Should we call them?” You look up at him with wide eyes and he smoothes the frown lines on your forehead and chuckles, offering a gentle kiss to your temples.

“We called fifteen minutes ago, remember?” He chides you gently.

You huff, “I just … it’s so quiet. Where are my baby babbles?” You pout.

Namjoon sighs and rubs his thumb comfortingly on your arm when you look around at the purple nursery with reminders of your daughter that wasn’t currently with you.

“Let’s enjoy what we have, okay love?” Namjoon offers, “I miss Chanmi too but I miss this too.”

You smile at him the way he first fell in love with you years ago and leans down to place a peck onto your lips.

“I miss having you all to myself.” He whispers against your lips and you shiver at the way his broadness is clouding all your senses.

“You always have me Joon.” You tell him in a tone as soft as his.

His chest rumbles when he laughs and you feel so warm in the comfort of your husband's arms and you felt it too. Besides the physical aspect of having sex with him, you missed holding him like this without a care in the world. Most of your cuddle sessions were left to the nights you slept next to each other in bed because the two of you were either exhausted with work or trying to care for Chanmi. It’s been a long time since you could just feel Namjoon’s presence with you.

“Besides … we can finally, you know …” He mumbles shyly into your hair and the devil horns that you hide most of the time reappear.

“What, Joon?” You smirk up at him, hands trailing slowly down his chest.

Your husband was so big that every room he walked into he basically commanded the attention of every single person that would come across him. That’s what happens when you’re six foot and broad like him. But you loved the fact that you were the only one that got to see the much softer side to him that he didn’t just show anyone. The fact that he was the CEO of his own company made his persona ever more intimidating than he actually was but you knew he was a huge softie on the inside.

The two of you were very different in many senses. From your personalities to the way you approached conflict. Namjoon was very diplomatic but you were anything but. He was truly the most empathetic and understanding person you’ve met in your entire life and you’ve seen a total of ten therapists in your teenage years. Namjoon was the balance that levelled your temper and uninhibited tendencies to always be the loudest person in every room. With every time you snarked at someone who pushed your buttons came Namjoon that placed a gentle hand on your back with a soft whisper of comfort.

In fact, most people thought the two of you would have never lasted. You heard those mean girls in college that made petty bets on the fact that you’d probably end up leaving him because you were too much of a bitch to deal with someone as kind as Namjoon. You remembered most of your fights being about your insecurities and how you always thought that Namjoon deserved better and with him telling you that you were the one for him.

Looking back, you laugh because the two of you were theoretically horrible for each other but exactly what the other needed. Namjoon needed someone free-spirited enough to manage his meticulous tendencies and you needed someone willing to see you for more than your erratic behaviour.

“What’s that pretty head of yours thinking about?” Namjoon hums when he realises you’re not paying attention to him anymore. He clasps your hands together to bring back your attention to him as you look up at him with eyes so full of love.

“Just reminiscing on the old days.” You tell him and he snorts.

“You say that as if we’re ancient.”

“You’re not fooling anyone. I heard your joints cracking when you bent down to pick up the strands of hair on the floor.” You tease.

“And who’s fault is it that I’m constantly bending over to pick up strands of hair because she sheds like a cat?” He retorts playfully.

“We’re both old.” You pout, playing with his fingers and admiring the glimmer of his wedding ring. You can’t believe you bagged a man like Namjoon.

“I still got it, though.” He adds thoughtfully and you raise an eye at his comment.

“Got what?”

“My game.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you burst out laughing because it was so on-brand for Namjoon to make a comment like that but blush when you got a little more touchy-feely with him when he least expected it.

“How about you show me then?” You whisper as you turn around to press yourself against his chest, ensuring that your cleavage was on full show to his line of vision when he looks down at you.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your tits after the pregnancy?” He tells you breathily and you snort.

“So you didn’t like my tits before I gave birth to your child?”

He rolls his eyes and reaches his hands below your thighs to lift you up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The way he could effortlessly carry you and lift you up always made your heart and nether regions flutter because he was so big that he basically towered over you. Especially when he became a dad it was like his hot factor exploded exponentially. He basically became the epitome of a dilf.

“You and your mouth,” He tsks as he carries you out of the nursery and into your bedroom, “I just may need to shut you up.”

You whine into his chest before he tosses you down onto your mattress as he towers over you, looking over your body like you were the finest piece of art he’s ever seen. Namjoon always had ways to make you feel like a million bucks even though you were in an old camisole and your old college varsity sweatpants.

“Why don’t you do it then?” You tease back.

You were different from the women that Namjoon has been with prior to your seven-year-long relationship as most of them were pliant and quiet, and took whatever he gave to them. Don’t get him wrong, he loved playing the dominant character in bed but he also needed a brat to push his buttons and it was exactly what you were. Even if the two of you were so fundamentally different in personalities, the two of you were definitely sexually compatible.

“Flip over.” He demands and you whine before reluctantly turning over.

“I want to see you.” You whine petulantly.

You feel him rather than have him verbally respond to you because he delivers a tight slap to your ass as you gasp at the impact. He rubs his hands soothingly over your butt cheeks and squeezes them as he leans over your body, crowding your back with his body heat.

“Don’t be a brat ___.” He sneers into your ear and the moan is stuck on your throat when you feel him drag his hands all over your body until it reaches under your body to reach for your tits.

“Fuck. I love your tits.” He groans.

Namjoon’s hands immediately trail down your body until they reach the hem of your shorts and you wiggle your ass back at him teasingly. You hear him growl and you always knew that Namjoon was an ass man and your ass made him weak.

“Need I remind you that you’re in no position to tease, sweetheart?” He whispers into your ear and you feel the goosebumps erupt on the surface of your skin.

“Fuck. Please—Joon, touch me.” You gasp as you feel him pull down your shorts to be greeted with a cheeky pair of panties that left little to imagine of what hides underneath. Your husband had the talent of getting you obscenely wet without doing much and it’s proven again when you feel the uncomfortable ache between your legs as he flips your body over once again to get a good glimpse of your heaving body, as well as the stain on your panties.

His knuckles trace the inner side of your thigh carefully as he avoids the place you need him the most while you feel more wetness pool at your entrance. You’ve been deprived of his touch for way too long and that caused your sensitive reactions to anything that he did. You missed his fingers so much and having him so close yet so far away from your pussy was destroying your restraint.

“Namjoon p-please!” You cry when he finally cups your mound with his large palm.

He digs the heel of his palm straight into your clit as you arch your back and let out a low moan.

“So wet baby and I’ve barely done anything.” He taunts you with the low baritone of his voice.

“You make me so wet Joonie.” You pant when you feel him grind his palm into your clit some more, providing the satisfying friction that you’ve been craving.

The feeling doesn’t last long because he’s hastily removing your panties from your legs and tosses them somewhere over his shoulder. His face is directly in front of your pussy and you can’t help but feel flustered at the proximity of his breath to your hole. You’ve done this a million times before but the familiarity is slightly lost due to the time between the last and the present.

“Where’s the brat that couldn’t shut her mouth before, hm?” He mumbles and you feel every breath against your pussy. You squirm and feel his large hands wrap around your thighs, locking you into position so you wouldn’t be able to move.

“It’s just been so—ah—long,” You tell him breathily.

“Too long. Missed this pussy.” He says as a parting gift before he dives straight into your clit and begins to lap rounds over the hardened bud. You let out a high pitched moan at the pleasure he was providing you with just his tongue alone, and the way that he knew just where to focus on your clit with tense figure-eights.

“Ah—ah, fuck—Joon!” You groan as your hands wrap around his hair to tug at it. You feel him moan against your pussy, which sends vibrations up to your core and causes more wetness to pool at your centre.

Namjoon is relentless when he digs his hands harder into the meat of your thighs to prevent you from moving too much as he continues to suction on your clit, focusing his attention on it as much as he could. After years of being together, he just knew what you loved and this was it.

You liked it messy. Wet and fast, and Namjoon always gave it to you good. He pulls away momentarily so he could look up at you with a hooded gaze and you let out a high pitched whine when you see the glistening of his chin all the way up to his nose with the signs of your wetness staining him. His fingers run up your thighs teasingly and you shift under his ministrations only for him to smack your right thigh harshly.

“If you move you don’t get to cum.” He threatens you and you immediately still your body with the impossible threat.

You feel his fingers run up and down on your slit as he gathers all your wetness into one place, hovering slightly over your clit. You have to keep your whine to a minimum because Namjoon got real mean when he wanted to. But he was a good lover—so good.

Your hole is throbbing with a need to be filled, and your husband picks up on that immediately as he prods your entrance with the tip of his index finger. You attempt to grind down on him as you make eye contact with the dark eyes that threaten to take away your orgasm.

“I said. Don’t. Move.” He reminds you.

You whimper in silence as he teases your hole a little more before he decides to return home into the warmth of your walls. The moment that barrier was broken, you feel him go straight for the hook as he reaches his index finger all the way up until his knuckles. You hear Namjoon hiss under his breath as he begins prodding your walls until he finds—

“Fuck—there, Joon—ah!” You gasp, head tilting backwards when your husband finds your g-spot.

Namjoon smirks to himself and slides another finger in to hook them upwards into your g-spot, unmoving as he stills himself against the area; causing pure, unaltered pleasured to run through your veins. You’re vibrating and twitching all at once because you can’t control the involuntary response that comes with your husband's demon fingers that are causing every possible pleasurable feeling to run through your system.

You can’t keep the moan to yourself either as Namjoon looks at you with awe, but you miss it because your eyes are too busy being rolled to the back of your head at the way Namjoon skilfully thrusts into your pussy.

“H-Harder, p-please Joon—wanna cum so bad.” You moan and run your fingers through his hair to bring his mouth closer to your mound.

He lowly chuckles and shakes his head at your sex drive. And the next thing he does next nearly makes you cum on the spot.

The way he gathers his spit at the back of his throat was borderline pornographic as you see the way his throat revs up. He drops the glob of spit directly onto your clit and uses the hand that wasn’t in your pussy to spread the lubricant all over your slit. He purposefully grazes your clit but doesn’t apply enough pressure to make your head spin, but just enough for you to whine in want.

“Your pussy is so pretty love.” He coos, leaning into your mound to deliver kitten-licks to your clit, and the warmth of his tongue with the added addition of his fingers feels all too much.

“J-Joon!” You gasp when you feel him thrust his fingers rapidly in and out of your pussy that your body hitched up the surface of the bed. Every thrust was accompanied by the direct assault of his tongue on your clit as he presses down on the hardened bud with the purpose to drive you closer to your orgasm.

You were painfully close, and the precision of his fingers at your g-spot allows you to revel in the way the coil in your body is ready to snap, so close to release. Namjoon leans down so that his head is where you love him the most, between your thighs as he scores the final goal and presses his tongue against your clit.

“Oh my god Joon—fuck—s-so good—I’m gonna cum!” Your back arches off the bed uselessly because of the way that Namjoon uses his other hand to pin you down, arms wrapped tightly around your stomach.

“Come for me pretty girl.” He coos against your clit and the vibrations is what sends you over the edge.

He fucks his fingers into you as you orgasm, kitten licking your clit with just enough pressure for you to whine as you buck your hips up into his mouth involuntarily.

“Fuck. Baby—hurts.” You whine, pushing his head away from your pussy when the overstimulation gets to you.

Namjoon places one last teasing peck on your clit, which causes you to twitch and pinch his neck as he chuckles, dragging his hand up your body to bring you closer to him.

“Still got it, hm?” He whispers against the column of your neck as you roll your eyes.

“Just kiss me you fool.” You pull him in for a kiss, and your tongue immediately finds its place home in Namjoon’s mouth.

It’s probably because it’s been so long since the two of you could feel each other like this, without any rush to get it over with but with the freedom to enjoy each other’s bodies as much as you’d like. Namjoon’s hands were the truth of that as he trails his arms down the sides of your waist and tugs you closer to him by your hips until he reaches for the hem of your camisole to tug it off your body.

He grabs the mounds of flesh in his hands and squeezes them hard enough to cause another gush of wetness to drip down the side of your thighs and onto his sweatpants. Besides the fact that he delivered a mind-blowing orgasm to you, the stained wetness of his sweatpants from his pre-cum and your slick is enough for you to push him down onto the bed.

“I’m gonna suck your cock.” You kiss him on the lips one last time before you’re leaning down to palm him over his sweatpants.

He hisses above you and grabs the back of your neck lovingly that it has you snorting.

“You know if you’re laughing at my dick my feelings are going to be very hurt,” Namjoon says from above you.

“It’s just …” You shake your head and giggle as you clench your fist around the outline of Namjoon’s cock as he lets out a low breath of approval at your action.

“You used to shove my head onto your cock the moment I reached your pants and now you’re so soft.” You tease.

You hear his breath hitch and the grip on your neck tighten at your taunting words. The excitement already pooling in your stomach at the roughness that would ensue from your husband.

“Me? Soft? Is that what you want baby?” His tone is warning and you know he’s serious.

You shake your head as you look up at him with innocent eyes, a stark contrast to the hand that continues to fondle his balls over his sweatpants.

“Don’t be a bitch and take my cock out.” He sneers, and you smile to yourself cheekily—knowing you hit a sore spot.

You happily oblige as you pull Namjoon’s sweats down to be greeted with your husbands cock. The visual itself has your pussy throbbing, and every time you’re faced with it, you always burn with the prospect of his thick cock pounding into your pussy.

“Now suck it like a good girl.” He guides your head towards his dick but you’re proactive enough to fully start licking at his tip, tongue teasing his slit as you hear him let out a low groan.

Your eyes are locked on his figure, as his head is thrown back. You want to grind on the sheets but you know that would delay him fucking you so you decide against it. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the visual that your husband was giving you from where you were.

Namjoon had always been handsome. But there’s something about seeing him throw his head back in pleasure because of you that has your stomach churning with pride. You’d shamelessly admit that you were more on the possessive side, purely because you knew there were many men and women out there who desired Namjoon in more ways than one; and you didn’t like sharing one bit.

You spit onto his dick as your hands worked the rest of the length that you didn’t engulf in your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks to create a suction. Your tongue begins to tease the underside of his shaft, the way he likes the most and you know he’s enjoying your focus there because the hand that grips your neck is now tightly clutching your hair in a fist.

“Fuck. That’s it, baby.” He groans.

Motivated by the praise, you sink deeper, hands resting on his thick thighs as you push yourself until your nose reaches his pelvis. You’ve taken his cock like a champion on many occasions, and you can only thank him for that like the numerous times he had to guide you down on his cock were probably the only reason why your tiny throat could welcome his thick girth.

The sounds of you chocking on his dick was a lot for Namjoon, mainly because he couldn’t get enough of his wife but also because he’s been waiting out to bust a nut down your throat—actually your pussy—so long that he can’t handle the onslaught of pleasure your mouth brings him.

“Baby—baby,” He tugs you off his cock and the redness around your cheeks with the tears that pool at your waterline is enough to make his heart soar. Even though you were nasty in bed, he loved every single part of your forwardness.

“Your mouth is amazing but I need to cum in your pussy.” He tells you.

You whine at his declaration and allow him to manhandle you until you were face down ass up, ass pressed tightly against his pelvis as you grind your wet cunt over the hardness of his dick.

“Fuck—you’re so wet, baby. You like sucking my cock?” He growls, arms reaching around your stomach to pull your body flush against his chest.

When you reach your hand to wrap around his head to balance yourself, you see a view of your bodies together in your mirror. Courtesy of when you first moved in and due to you and Namjoon’s egocentric tendencies of wanting to see you guys fucking each other.

“S-So much Joon.” You garble.

His hand reach down to cup your mound and digs his palm into your clit as you grind down against his hand. You feel him loosely trace over your clit to gather your wetness into his hand to lather it over his dick.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He whispers in your ear when he lines his cock against your entrance.

You whine, excitement erupting inside of you—until he finally slides it.

It definitely takes you by surprise because your husband was big. And the fact that you haven’t had his dick in you for months made it much more of a pleasant surprise when he bottoms out completely in one swift thrust of his hips, which causes your body to fall forward as your hands grip the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck. This tight pussy’s mine, right?” He growls.

You nod your head into the sheets as he begins with a few experimental thrusts as you adjust to the slight, yet pleasurable, sting in your lower half.

Until you squeeze his hand on your hip to give him the go, Namjoon settles for slow thrusts into your pussy, but it’s enough to prod at your pleasurable spot because not only is Namjoon smart, kind, funny, handsome and ridiculously a great father—he is phenomenal at sex. Probably why he knocked you up on the night of your honeymoon with your bundle of joy.

Namjoon begins snapping his hips into yours relentlessly like a man starved, and starved he was. He’s missed the wet heat of your pussy; and God did he love your daughter—but he missed this—your pussy.

“F-Fuuuuu—” You’re heaving.

Namjoon continues to thrust into your pussy, angling his hips upwards so that he’d reach places deeper than ever as your eyes roll to the back of your heart in pleasure.

“Fuck—this—tight—pussy—” His words follow the sharpness of his thrusts and you don’t even know where to grab because all your sensations are heightened, especially when Namjoon reaches a hand down to your clit to begin rubbing it vigorously.

“Nam—Joon!”

You’re so wet that the squelch of his thrusts is echoed in your bedroom, and the only thing you hear besides that is your loud moans and the heavy breathing coming from Namjoon.

It’s only when he plants his knees firmly into the mattress and brings your hips to meet his thrusts is when you feel your pussy clench uncontrollably around his cock as you wail out his name.

“Fuck, baby—you’re clenching—so—hard.” He groans, pushing his hips deeper into your pussy.

“Love your cock,” You moan, “Fuck—Joon, please—fuck your cum into me.”

“Yeah?” He grits his teeth and flips your over effortlessly, dragging your leg over his shoulder as he begins pounding into you even harder as he admires the way your face contorts in pleasure.

“Yeah.” You nod your head like a sex-crazed maniac because your husband was just too good with his hips.

“Gonna give you another baby.” He whispers when he leans down into your face as your eyes widen at his declaration. Your pussy reacts too, gushing out even more wetness as it becomes tighter around Namjoon’s cock.

“Fuck. You like that idea? A sibling for Chan’?” He grinds his pelvis into your clit as his words spur your second orgasm for the night on.

“No shit?” You gasp when he revs up his spit in the back of his throat, looking at your mouth invitingly.

“Yeah,” He says breathlessly, and you open your mouth to welcome his tongue when he drops the glob of spit down your throat.

You whine, feeling your orgasm coming so closely.

“Fuck Joon—I’m gonna cum.” You gasp.

You feel Namjoon’s hips stutter and you know he’s coming soon too.

“Me too baby.” He tells you while giving you the set of most adoring eyes ever. Even as he’s fucking you into the next dimension, Namjoon makes you feel so utterly loved and whole that you can’t imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone else.

He snaps his hips the hardest he’s ever done throughout the entire night, and you feel your pussy throb so much; signalling to you and Namjoon that your release was right there.

“Baby—I’m gonna—I’m gonna c-cum,” You grab onto his shoulder to pull him closer to you.

He welcomes it and leaves open mouth kisses onto your mouth as he fucks into you like a mad man.

“Cum.”

That’s all it takes for you to reach an explosive orgasm, one that quite literally causes you to blank out for a second because while Namjoon’s hot cum spurts into your pussy short after you came, he feels your body go limp in his embrace; causing his eyes to widen.

Only until you’re blinking up at him dazedly is when he holds you to his chest, as you feel his chest rumble when he chuckles.

“Baby … I thought you died.” He cards a hand through your hair and you smile at him, stupidly in love.

“If I die because of your dick I’d be happy.” You grin at him cutely. And he scoffs at the way you look so cute after you’ve been fucked to hell and back.

“My horny little monster,” He flicks your forehead as you bring him close to your chest, his dick still settled inside of you. But there was a sort of intimacy that you couldn’t quite put words to, but welcomed the gesture nevertheless.

“Were you serious?” You ask after a while of sharing a few intimate pecks to each others’ lips.

He finally pulls out to roll on his side as he reaches over to pull your close to his chest. He raises an eyebrow at your expression when you feel his cum leak out of you.

“God you really didn’t jack off recently, did you?” You ask.

He pecks you on the nose as he quickly tugs clean boxers over his legs and disappears into your on-suite. You sigh to yourself dreamily, thinking of how lucky you were to be with someone as loving and compassionate as Namjoon was.

You weren’t necessarily unlucky when it came to your relationships prior to him, but there would always be dealbreakers that caused splits to be more bitter than neutral. Namjoon was the only man in your life that you could speak to without fearing any judgement from because he wasn’t like that. He knew how to make you feel wanted and also how to want yourself, all while being your best friend and partner.

When he returns, he returns with a damp cloth and immediately begins cleaning up the mess between your thighs, even as he cheekily mentions how there was more from where that came from as you slap him on the shoulder.

Once he ensures he’s satisfied, he tosses the cloth into the laundry basket and grabs a big t-shirt of his to slip it over your body. You hum in satisfaction as his scent overwhelms you, even more so when he tugs you close to his body and he looks at you with all the love in the world.

“You asked if I was serious earlier?” He repeats your question and you nod your head looking up at him.

“Yeah.” You let out a breathy smile when he leans down to pull your face towards his own as you admire all the freckles and pores on his skin, fingers tracing loosely over the wrinkles that come with age.

“I know it’s sudden but … I’ve been thinking about our family and—I want our family to become bigger.” He tells you like it’s a secret. You know he’s been mulling over it for quite a while because he looks a little unsure of himself, but all you can do is smile widely at him.

“Really?” You ask, playing with the hair on the back of his neck when you feel his fingers trace over the skin on your back.

“Of course. I love you, and I love Chanmi. I’ve always wanted kids and you brought the best gift in my life to me and … I can’t explain how happy I am when I’m with the two of you.” He smiles at you gently.

You don’t know if it’s because he just fucked you so good, or was it because you were lovesick, but your eyes water because Namjoon was Namjoon.

“But—if you’re not ready then I understand and we can—”

“Yes.” You interrupt him.

His eyes widen as you see the excitement begin to pour into his irises.

“Wait—really?” He asks innocently.

You nod your head and kiss him on the lips softly, no rush as he returns the gesture, holding you close onto his chest where you feel the best in his arms.

“Yes really. I want what you want. And I think it’s about time Chanmi gets a sibling, no?” You tease.

He groans like you’re unreal as he buries his head into the crook of your neck as you caress him gently. Namjoon was really just like an oversized baby and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“When?” He asks.

You tease your fingertips down to his chest and offer him a knowing look.

“Now?” You feign indifference but you can see the wide grin he sports on his face.

“Fuck. Don’t say that. I think my dick is going to fall off at how hard I fucked you just now,” He whined.

“You’re getting old,” You massage his shoulders as he sighs.

“I am …” He acknowledges, “But we’ll grow old together, right?”

The prospect of a future of unknowns with Namjoon only makes your heart bloom. You nod your head, not another word need to be uttered as he holds you in his arms, excited for what’s to come.

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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