#Mom said I could post cringe it was my birthday

[asukiess]

new person, same old mistakes

[ruggiezz]

— EMBARASSING THINGS THEY DID IN THE PAST : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] embarassing things they did when they were younger that now haunt them whenever they are trying to sleep

[characters] deuce, cater, trey (+chenya), leona, ruggie, jack, malleus

[extra] my last 3 posts are literally so unserious, so here's another one, for the funsies (ily guys)

★﹕DEUCE SPADE

When he was in elementary school, he would chat with his friends while waiting for his mom to come pick him up and take him home. That particular day, his mom was late, and 6-year-old Deuce freaked out. He was convinced that his mom didn't love him anymore, and that's why he wouldn't pick him up—that he was going to be homeless and would have to live on the streets in a cardboard box. He even started crying, which made his friends cry. They started saying goodbye to Deuce because how were they going to see him again if his mom wouldn't bring him to school?

Anyways, his mom came to pick him up 10 minutes later.

★﹕CATER DIAMOND

Back then when he actually tried to make friends whenever he moved schools, he had a huge crush on one of his classmates. One day, he overheard his crush talking about how they "would love to be with someone who loves nature as much as them". Cater wanted to impress his crush so badly that he made a Magicam post with him posing next to random trees and captioned it with "I love nature so much omg😍".

The photo is still out there on the internet because he forgot the password for the account, and the idea of someone from NRC finding the account terrifies him.

★﹕TREY CLOVER (+CHENYA)

Another one that takes place in elementary school. Trey and Chenya were walking around the city after classes when they spotted an electricity pylon. They thought it was the Eiffel Tower (the equivalent of it in Twisted Wonderland), and they got all excited about it, so they came back with Trey's parents so they could take a picture of them next to it.

Their parents bring up the topic from time to time just to laugh at their innocence back then.

★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

When he was a little kid, he had a nightmare where he was being chased. He was tossing around the bed, mumbling while sleeping. Falena was walking around the halls when he heard noises from Leona's room, and when he saw him clearly having a nightmare, he tried to wake him up. Leona got so startled that he screamed and kicked his older brother in the face.

Sometimes he remembers when he's about to fall asleep, and suddenly his sleepiness is gone from how much he cringed.

★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI

He needed money, so he decided to work as a party mascot. It went well the first couple of times; it paid well, until he had to work at this particular kids party. The parents told Ruggie to walk down the stairs, greet the kid, wish him a happy birthday, and then just stand there to greet the children whenever they talked to him. Keep in mind that he couldn't see well in the mascot suit. So when Ruggie tried to walk down the stairs, he tripped and fell. The suit's head fell off, and there was just silence for around ten seconds, then the kids started crying. They thought their favorite character had just died right in front of them.

The birthday boy was inconsolable. Needless to say, Ruggie didn't get paid, and his party mascot careed ended that day.

★﹕JACK HOWL

It happened when his parents weren't home. His younger siblings were playing around with paint, and they asked him if they could paint his face. Jack said yes because it was harmless and would wash off, right? Wrong, it was permanent paint.

He had an important exam the next day, so he just showed up to school with his face looking like a kid painting that parents would display on the fridge door. Jack had to go to school like that for three days.

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus has known Lilia for as long as he can remember; he basically raised him. One day, he had the genius idea to copy his hair. He waited for a moment when he was left unsupervised (in Lilia's defense, Malleus faked being asleep), grabbed some scissors, and cut his own bangs. It was awful; it looked like how you would think a little kid would cut their hair. He was so proud of himself until Lilia saw it. To little Malleus dismay, Lilia laughed his ass off, and whenever his laughter would stop, he would look at Malleus and start laughing again.

He got so upset he burned Lilia's bangs off.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: happy birthday to me! when this posts i'll officially be older, and celebrating by being cringe (writing this). i also love that picture of misha. it's him at my birthday party for real. he told me himself (lying)

↳ warnings: none!

↳ song: rock your body—justin timberlake

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Special occasions like this are few and far between

• The Winchester family hadn't had a proper birthday in decades. While Dean clung to memories of gas station twinkies in replacement of a birthday cake, Sam remembered most of his birthdays with a sort of sad animosity. Up until walking out on his dad for Stanford and spending his birthday that year with Jessica, he hadn't had a single enjoyable birthday party. Maybe that was part of the reason he refused to let you feel the same way about your own birthday—even if none of you were kids anymore

• Worst case scenario, the world is ending again and you all have little time for delicacies. If that's the case, you'd get a quick pat on the shoulder from Dean, one excited bear hug from Sam, and very confused Cas wishing you the best of births before being told to continue packing the shotguns with salt rounds

• "With age comes responsibility, so keep loading those guns. Spider-Man said that."

• "For someone that watches so much trash tv, you know so little about media, Dean." You snorted at your friend, fingers nimmbly crushing salt into a line of rigid red shells before moving onto the next group

• "Shut up before I decide to give you your birthday noogies." He pointed a finger at you from across the room with a single raised eyebrow. Off to the side you saw Cas ask Dean what birthday noogies were not-so-quietly, and you struggled to hold back a laugh

• Even in the worst situations, they could always manage to make you smile

• Best case scenario, however, it's a free day. Nothing to do, no devils to fight, no ghouls to stop—nothing. Just you, the guys, and time on your hands that you all normally never have. So what better way to utilize it than with a little surprise party?

• Sam would be the most into the whole birthday party shtick. He'd insist that it was the least they could do for you after all the years on the hunt together, and even got Dean to budge after a few minutes of petty debating

• "It's stupid and cheesy, Sammy. We're grown adults. We've fought the devil beforr for christ's sake." Dean gave his brother the stink eye from his spot in the drivers seat. Groceries stores and Mom & Pop stores passed them by as they ventured into the nearest town, but neither of them paid attention to their blurred surroundings

• "Come on Dean." Sam twisted his torso and turned to face him fully. "Don't tell me you don't remember the look on their face last month when we brought them back a souvenir from our hunting trip in Alabama. You would have thought we brought them a new car. Besides, this is the one chance we've had in a while to actually celebrate something." Sam's eyebrows tilted up as he recalled the memory, shooting a knowing look at Dean's side-profile

• "So what? I say we just tell them happy birthday like a regular person and call it a day." Dean grumbled

• "Is that why you're driving in the nearest direction of the bakery here?"

• Dean didn't respond

• "That's what I thought."

• "Shut your pie-hole or I'm kicking you to the curb."

• Once the boys get back to whatever new place you all are holed up for that week, a couple of crinkled bags in hand, they call on Cas to help out with setting up whatever decorations Sam had forced Dean to throw in the cart

• Cas didn't take nearly as much convincing to partake in the setting up of festivities, but he certainly did need a lot of it explained

• "I thought angels were familiar with the concept of birthdays?" Dean asked at one point while watching Sam pull part of a cake out of the oven. His hand was slapped away when he went to grab at it, and he glared at his younger brother momentarily

• "We are." Castiel's gruff answer came shortly. "But we stopped keeping count after the first couple thousand years. And it was never done like—" He flicked the party hat atop his head curiously, "—this."

• "What did you guys do to celebrate?" Sam asked while popping the lid to a can of store bough frosting open

• "Pray."

• "Naturally." Dean rolled his eyes sarcastically. A blanket of silence fell over the room after that as Sam set out to frost the first part of the cake. Then—

• "Hey. How come none of you are wearing paper hats?"

• "Oh, trust me Cas. It'll mean a lot more to them if you were the one wearing it." Dean's grin was borderline evil as he looked at the angel

• It's safe to say that you laughed the hardest you had in a while once seeing Cas looking so hesitant in a mini cone hat

• Overall, it's the best birthday— the best day —that you've had in a long time

• You didn't need much, and as a hunter you'd come to expect almost nothing. But knowing that your friends— the short tempered, college dropout, otherworldly friends that they were —took it upon themselves to set all this up for you was the emotional equivalent to a punch in the gut. A lovely emotional punch in the gut

• "If you start crying, I'll leave." Dean snapped at you when you eventuallyvoiced how much this meant to you. But the threat was empty, and you all knew it

• Sometime during the party, you had managed to wrestle a paper hat of his own onto his head, and how it sat on the side of his head like a crooked unicorn horn. Occasionally he'd reach for it as if to take it off, then lower his hand with a small smile

• "Shut the fuck up and give me a group hug, Dean." You grinned with teeth, gesturing at him to stand up

• "Wait, no, I take it back that's worse."

• "I will kill you, Winchester. I swear I'll do it."

• You ended up getting your group hug that day, even if it took Castiel trapping Dean between you and him to get him to stand still

• "I hate it here." He griped with a groan. Sam could only laugh as be watched his brother struggle in Cas's iron grip, and said angel was smiling a bit to himself. You felt your heart swell; even if the look on Dean's face was downright murderous

• "Smile or I'm egging Baby on my birthday night." You said before setting the camera's timer and holding it up above you all

• "You wouldn't—"

• "Watch me."

• All four of you have your own copy of the photo from that night, kept in your seperate pockets and bedside table drawers. To this day you find yourself smiling when you look at it, and even if you'd never know it, so do they

[shortpplfedup]

Rewatched the episode to organise my thoughts and I really wanted to share my understanding of the emotional journey Pat is going through this ep. I do feel, like @lurkingshan and @ginnymoonbeam in particular have been saying to me, that Pat's journey is sliiiiiiightly harder to follow, and it hinges on the conversation on two levels that he and Jeng have near the middle of the ep (which, more on that in a moment). Like always, this ep could have used a little nip/tuck, and maybe a montage to show the passage of time, but I'd like to present to you...

PAT'S EPISODE 9 EMOTIONS: A STORY

First movement: absolute cringe, totally embarrassed. He was drunk and weeping, hanging off his boss who had to answer his MOM's phone call and get him home. Said boss is also gay which...we're not processing that right now because it adds an entirely new cringe level.

Second movement: starts to think about the fact that JENG IS GAY AND ONLY JUST TOLD HIM which feels like maybe Jeng has been laughing at him a bit and messing him about. Because he thought they were bonding somewhat all this time but Jeng didn't share this when he knows Pat is also gay. Shoves the stuffie in the drawer because he feels betrayed.

Third movement: Here is where things get wibbly because time is clearly passing between the day after the bar and the day Pat's dad shows up, but we don't really understand how much. Pat is actively avoiding Jeng. Jeng is asking Chot where he is, Pat is taking (multiple?) days off...but no idea of when this falls in the timeline so hard to follow the throughline.

Fourth movement: Pat is back at work and clearly DEEP in his feelings, he has been stewing over this for who knows how long at this point (feels more weeks than days or months). Chot is noticing (and likely misunderstanding the source of the churn as a lovers' tiff rather than a not-lovers' tiff). He thought he wouldn't have to see Jeng because Chot is standing in for him at the screening but Jeng shows up and he kind of panics. So he's feeling embarrassed, a little betrayed and like Jeng has been toying with him.

Fifth movement: This is where they have the convo on two levels. I say that because Pat was clearly saying one thing while Jeng was hearing another. Pat is saying: 'stop doing these things because I can't say no when you're sweet to me.' Jeng is hearing: 'stop doing these things because I can't say no when you are my boss.' The language is deliberately vague, and the idea of two meanings could get lost, but the show makes it clear in the two follow up scenes where Jeng and Pat have separate vents about what's happening. Jeng is crying to Jaab that Pat only sees him as a coworker, while Pat is fuming to Jen that Jeng is playing with his feelings. Pat said 'I don't want to misunderstand' and Jeng said 'you're not misunderstanding' and Pat said 'no I must be misunderstanding because it don't even make sense, so leave me alone please.'

Sixth movement: Pat exposits those feelings of being toyed with to Jen, who is like 'solidarity sister, these brothers be doing that.'

Seventh movement: Chot tells Pat Jeng is quitting and that's when Pat starts to realise that maybe the man was Not Fucking Around, but the WHY ME? is strong because Pat is aware that Jeng is An Adult and he is The Hot Mess Express. Then the man plans him a damn birthday celebration but stays away like he asked.

Eighth movement: At this point, Pat is the SpongeBob crab meme. THERE IS JUST TOO MUCH HAPPENING AND HE CANNOT PROCESS IT HE HAS SOMEHOW GOTTEN LOST IN THE SAUCE. He breaks the fuck down and cries to his mommy and daddy, because it's all too much.

Ninth movement: Pat experiences the miracle of birth up close and fucking personal and like many of us cannot believe that a human can actually do that and what the fuck is he actually caught up about. His good sis MADE A PERSON IN THE STREET and then posted it on Instagram like it was light work, and he is skressed because a gay man likes him, another gay man.

Tenth movement: And then Pat gets home and said gay man has sent him a BOX of snacks just because he said he liked them once, and then sends him a text that basically says 'I LIKE YOU DUMMY, SO MUCH, BECAUSE YOU'RE YOU.'

Look, all I'm saying is my man Pat went on a journey ok?

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC confession

Thanks @illarian-rambling here, @mysticstarlightduck here,

Rules: post a scene where someone confesses something - anything!

Tagging @urnumber1star @theelfauthor @katwritesshit @sarahlizziewrites @writeintrees

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

Context: Ash and Lexi have been feuding a bit since Ash befriended a girl Lexi associates traumatic memories with. Here's Ash laying out all that's been bothering her recently. It's long, so under the cut.

From The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

Ash took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “You were right.” “About?” “Shelby.” I froze—shocked for a second. I wanted to say something snotty, like oh, you just make friends with someone, and dump them whenever you get bored of them? But instead, I could only say, “What?” “Okay, what happened to you in first grade might’ve happened to me last Friday?” I blinked. “Huh?” “I was at Shelby’s, it was going great, but then it got weird.” “Weird how?” “Weird… I dunno, just weird, and I kinda got the creeps, and I bolted.” “Bolted?” “Yeah, I ran outta the house.” “That bad?” “Yeah, that’s why I’m guessing you repressed it.” I looked down at the floor, allowing my unbraided hair to fall over my face as I pondered. I didn’t remember first grade, and I barely remembered Shelby. Maybe that creepy thing did happen to me, and that’s why I hated Shelby. “In case you’re wondering, she’s uninvited.” “What?” I looked back up. “To my birthday party,” Ash confirmed. “But… you’re not.” “I’m not?” “You’ve been my friend forever. I want you there.” The corner of my mouth twitched. “Thanks.” “And, uh, there’s something else.” “Yeah?” “I need to get something off my chest.” She leaned against the wall. “What?” Ash sighed. “My mom and Frank had a falling out.” “They did?” I asked, having met her jerk stepdad before. “Yeah,” said Ash. “I dunno what happened, but it happened, and I was sent into a daze.” She swallowed. “They’re getting a divorce.” I didn’t respond. But she continued. “I’ve been living with Dad and Mary. And my mom. And Hannah and Mikey, too. Obviously. And Frank’s probably gonna get some custody of Mikey.” I’d been to her dad and stepmom’s house. It was relatively small, but it had three bedrooms. And now, six people were living there. Three adults, nonetheless. “I’m sorry to hear all of that,” I said softly. “But I think it will work out. Your mom and Mary get along. And Frank was rude, so maybe it’s good he’s out of at least most of your life.” “I guess so.” Ash closed her eyes, sighing. “Thanks. I missed your optimism.” I couldn’t help but smile softly. “I’ve been feeling… I dunno, weird lately. And I just needed to escape, I guess.” “That’s why you went to Shelby?” “I dunno what was happening with Shelby,” said Ash. “Maybe all the stuff happening made me listen to her more. But… she felt genuine. Like she actually cared about me and what I wanted.” “What about me?” I asked, more harshly than I intended. Ash flinched, I cringed. “I’m sorry, go on.” “She reached out to me,” Ash continued. “I dunno how she figured out something was going on at home, but she did. And… because she kept talking to me and made me forget about all the drama at home…” she shrugged. “You didn’t know what was going on, and I didn’t feel like talking about it then. Shelby just… coaxed it outta me somehow. And then you got mad, and because I’d become so open with Shelby, she made me madder at you—” “About that,” I said, “I was a jerk. Even if that creepy thing did happen to me, I don’t remember it. I shouldn’t’ve been so against it.” “But you were right.” “The problem is that I was right! I acted like a selfish jerk… and I was right. I should feel better, right? I won, but it doesn’t feel like a win.” I sighed roughly. “Maybe we were both wrong.” “So,” said Ash after an awkward moment of silence, “we’re friends again.” I looked her in her eyes. I smirked a bit. “Friends. Not again. Always.” Ash scoffed, rolling those bright green eyes. “Don’t be such a sap, Lex.” I laughed as we walked back into the locker room.

[angeygirl]

Dave Miller X reader: In which Dave and the author both embarrass themselves

Saw a post by @dovewingkinnie and took it as a writing prompt lol, Anyway, enjoy Dave being pathetic and socially oblivious.

Uh, alternate timeline where there's not as much of an age gap? Also he's less grouchy then normal but there's a reason for that

Probably cringe but I am free

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today really could have gone better. An angry mom had decided to take out her son’s “ruined” birthday on you, when you saw the whole thing and could confirm that he was the one who started the fight. He was like 11 and picking on a 7 year old, why wouldn’t you get involved? You hadn’t even been that rough with him, kid was just a brat who couldn’t take being told no. But now here you stood, enduring the barrage of insults to your intelligence and demands to speak with a manager. You weren't paid enough for this.

“Alright, what’s all this?” A voice rasped lazily. Oh great. Dave was on day shift again. Honestly, who let this man be around children? The boy who supposedly couldn’t do anything wrong cowered behind his ‘noble’ mother, who took a few paces back. Sure, tall people could be intimidating, but it was more about Dave having the worst vibes, worst posture and worst breath of just about anyone you knew.

“This one here” The woman snapped with a gesture at you. “interrupted a harmless game my son was playing with one of this little friends. He plays with smaller children all the time and I promise no one ever gets hurt. Someone was just trying to play hero and completely ruined the day.”

Dave quirked an eye brow and looked at you.

You glance at the floor. “That’s not really what happened...” Trying to drown the kid in the ball pit despite the younger one’s protests didn’t sound like harmless fun.

Dave shrugged. “Seems like you’re makin’ more of a ruckus then anyone here.”

The woman began to launch a tirade against Dave, who only stared at her blankly and mumbled ‘yeah yeah, care to get out?’. It wasn’t long before the attack began to have an effect. Something about the guard seemed timid as the woman's voice rose. “And speaking of the employees in this place, do they not have any hiring standards? Why you have to be the most unqualified guard I’ve ever seen. Have you even showered?”

“Just last Friday.” He says with a tiny smirk.

Her face crinkles. “Disgusting. You’re disgusting. And so is this place.”

“You said that already. Now would you care to get out?”

“Not until I get a refund!”

“We don’t give refunds. Says so at the counter.”

“Where’s your-”

“Manager’s in the back stuffing bodies in the animatronics. Want me to get him?”

You don’t outright shudder, but it did always make you uneasy how comfortable Dave was with disturbing jokes.

The woman’s nose wrinkles again. “You really think that is appropriate to say? In the restaurant it was rumoured to happen? With a child right here?”

“Eh, kids love gory stuff like that. Now if our restaurant is so crap, why don’t you just leave?”

The woman grabs her son’s hand and storms out of the building. Dave grins at you with his crooked smile. “That takes care of that.”

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

Dave’s grin turns a little shy. “Rescue?”

You shrug. “I dunno.”

He slouches nervously. “What do you mean by rescue?”

“Uh? Nothing really. I mean I guess you could say you vanquished a 'witch' on my behalf.” You add with a chuckle.

Dave smiles sheepishly.

The rest of the afternoon passes uneventfully. You take a quick break before your shift closes out, only to find Dave in the break room fumbling with the coffee pot.

He smiles when he notices you, and slides into the chair next to yours. You try not to scoot your chair back, but even without the invasion of your personal space, his breath is just nasty.

“So… are you doing anything this weekend?” He asks.

“Uh… not much, just going to see a movie with my friends.”

He nods. “I see. There’s only one movie theater in town, I assume you’d go there?”

“I guess so.” You scoot back just a little.

“When?”

“I dunno, we haven't worked it out yet.”

Dave nods and sips his coffee without breaking eye contact.

“What about you?”

He glances away. “Uh… well, I supposed I’m an open book. Haven't decided on anything yet but that just means I’m free if someone were to... invite me to something.”

You nod uncertainly.

“Or! or maybe I’ll just sleep, who knows? Heh.”

“Yeah, you look like you need it, buddy.”

He cracks a shy little smile. The next day passes without much incident, but you notice Dave is definitely trying to chat it up more then usual. On your lunch break you find him sulking in the break room.

“You ok there Dave?”

He sort of whimpers. “Fine.”

“Dave, you are never fine.”

He glares up at you. “Didn’t think I’d need a lunch, turns out I do. And I refuse to touch the pizza in this place.”

You sit down and open your bag, somehow feeling too bad for him not to help. “I’ve got a turkey sandwich here if you want to split it.”

He perks up immediately. “You mean that?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You hand Dave half of the sandwich and it’s down his throat before you realize he took it. You look up in shock while he smiles awkwardly.

“Uh th-thanks.”

“Yeah... No problem?”

He turns away and giggles slightly, yes, giggles like a shy school girl. He’s annoyingly friendly the rest of the day, but all at once, pulls back and won’t speak. No wonder he was considered the office creep. His weird behaviour rolls over to the next day. At this point you’re best off trying to ignore him, but it’s hard. He’s got such a pleading look on his face while he stumbles through small talk that you don’t know how to tell him off. Luckily the shift manager notices him abandoning his ‘post’ and barks at him to get back to work.

The manager pulls you aside. “You ok there? Looks like Miller won’t leave you alone.”

You nod. “Yeah, he’s not creeping or anything, It’s just annoying.”

“If he tries any funny business, we'll move him back to the night shift, should probably get him on night shift anyway since he refuses to shower.”

You and Dave manage to avoid each other the rest of the day, but as you pack up your things to leave, Dave slides a note over to you and shuffles off. He hangs by the doorway a moment, watching to see if you’ll read it and then scurries away.

You unfold the piece of paper.

‘meet me outside freddy’s at 7’

Oh. No.

Oh no.

No, no, NO!

Dave just awkward, right? Harmlessly awkward, socially clumsy and too forgetful to shower or pack a lunch, right? He wasn't thinking of luring you to the back of Freddy’s around closing time to be less suspicious and then kidnap you or anything, was he? Maybe it was just your manager’s warning putting that idea in your head, but frankly you didn’t think it would be worth it.

You feel a gaze on the back of your neck and realize Dave is still behind you. You shove the note in your pocket and head home. Once there you do some chores, make yourself dinner and settle down to watch TV. It’s almost quarter past seven when you remember the note in your pocket. You take it out a reread it.

“Maybe I’m overthinking...” Dave did seem pretty harmless but honestly, why would you even want to meet up with him? You toss the note in the trash and don’t think about it the rest of the night.

By the next morning you almost forgot about the note, so it takes you a good while to understand why Dave looks so much more sulky then normal. His slouch is less lazy and more sad and he almost seems to be pouting, just a little. Then again, his face was usually locked into one weird expression or another.

The worst thing of it was the way he tilted his head down and looked up at you. A grown man was trying his best attempt at puppy dog eyes. As the day went on, his sulking seemed more genuine. Ah geez, he was pretty pathetic, wasn’t he? Before you went home, you stopped him in the break room.

“Dave, what’s all this about?”

His eyes glint almost tearfully. “You didn’t answer my note.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to.”

“You... didn’t?” His voice nearly breaks. “But you said I rescued you. You gave me your sandwich!”

“You ‘rescuing’ me the other day was a joke, and I didn’t need the whole sandwich since I don’t mind the pizza here so much as you.”

He sniffles. “So none of that meant anything to you?”

“I was just being polite.”

“That! Being polite! Who else would do that for me? Nobody here for certain. I know we hadn't known each other very long, but judging by the way you asked if I was alright earlier it's obvious you care about me!”

“It's really not that much of a commitment. Really, you're overthinking things. Maybe if you showered more other people wouldn't be so turned off by you.”

He tilts his head like a confused dog. “That’s all?”

“Well, it’s hygiene and not being a creep and not joking about dead kids in the robots.”

Dave rubs his wrist nervously. “So you don’t have feelings for me?”

You shudder. “Not a chance.”

He sighs. “I must have jumped the gun. M-my apologies.” He sniffles.

“Don’t worry about it? And just to be clear, you weren't going to kidnap me if I had shown up alone?”

“No promises.” Dave laughs.

As much as that sounded an alarm bell in your head, it sounded like another dark joke.

“No really, I just wanted to talk. I wanted to know why you were ignoring me if you had feelings for me.”

“Well, I don’t. And let’s just keep the small talk to the break room? It’s kinda hard to get my work done with you giving me puppy eyes the whole time.”

Dave nods, and a tint of red spreads in his pale face. "I'm sorry if I was acting..."

"Creepy?"

He nods again. "I wasn't sure what to do. You just... the thought of someone taking an interest in me was a bit overwhelming. I haven't been in love in a very long time, and even if my feelings towards you weren't very strong, imagined attraction can be just as powerful as the real thing."

"Eh, I'm sure there's someone for you out there... somewhere. But you'd have to be willing to clean yourself up first."

"I appreciate the advice, though I don't think it'd be practical right now."

"You'd be surprised how often its relevant."

[allay-j11no]

『Lore』

————————————

Shadow

☆ Cannoniclly 50 years old

☆ Sonic and Tails's adopted father

☆ attempts terrible dad jokes

☆ "No sonic, you cant have a pet bear."

☆ Tells storys about Maria bc Kid said "It'll help with the nightmares love"

☆ Cant say no to Tails

☆ has his usual abilitys, chaos control and his air shoes

☆ HAS THE MOBIAN VERSION OF A BEARD YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND

––> "Shadow...what is that?" "my beard...?" "...Keep it." "sure kitty.."

————————————————————————l

Tails

◇ Cannonical age of 8

◇ Youngest

◇ Laughs at Shadow's terrible dad jokes

◇ Was the one to find Sonic his bear

◇ Likes the storys Shadow tells

◇ "Dad can I get this part?"

◇ usual abilitys

◇ "Daddd...I lost my screw driver :("

————————————————————————

Sonic

○ Cannonic age is 15

○ Oldest

○ Cringes when Shadow tells his dad jokes

○ "whyyyy?? Hes not gonna hurt anyone!"

○ also likes shadows storys

○ momma's boy

○ usual abilitys

○ "Mom, have you seen my comics??"

————————————————————————

Kit

♧ Cannon age it 49

♧ Sonic and Tails's adopted mother

♧ Gives Shadow ideas for his jokes

♧ "Why not a dog, Sonic?"

♧ Likes hearing said storys, actually enjoys feeling nostalgic over hers and Shadows' time on the Arc.

♧ "One comic, Sonic."

♧ Super jump and chaos control

♧ Shadow gave her a brown capelet, with a lil bell on it

–> "Shadz, y'know my birthday isnt even close.." "I know I know...but I saw it and I thought you'd like it." "Its beautiful, Shadow.." "I knew you'd like it, Kitty."

————————————————————————

I could yap more about Kit in another post, this os just for family dynamic and what kinda AU it is!!

[koychu]

Tw! Mentions of suicide, sh, sa and ed. Some other things may be triggering, but idk

You were the reason why I stopped being a bitch and actually ate properly, I looked up to you and thought you were so cool bc u were older than me

I didn't think it would go this far, was it meant to go this far? I know it's your life, I do, but why couldn't you just let time pass and wait? It's so close to my. Birthday too, why couldn't you wait after the day after? I don't wanna be born on august. I don't want august to exist. Why couldn't your mom be a better excuse of a human being instead of a pathetic one? Why couldn't your dad just stfu and keep it in his pants? I just feel worse, I don't know what to do. I want to text you but ik you're gonna be cringing if you could see them, I'm sorry for shiko, I rlly am, having to take over your dead friend's acc? .. I don't think I could do that myself

But ig it's a dying person's last wish, ik you think you were a burden to communicate with me before ur due date but. I rlly enjoyed our time together

I wish that I could just smile and laugh and not cry when I see ur messages

Why couldn't my last text to you be meaningful? Why couldn't I be early to have ask your tumblr? Why didn't I fake sick so I could be aware? Why didn't I do anything?

I know I couldn't even if I tried tho, you wanted this, and you'll do whatever it takes.

I'm sorry I made you promise, I saw how you wanted to do it earlier. I'm sorry I searched for your tumblr, you left the discord server for a reason, right? You unfriended me and only came back a few times, but all of that was to not hurt me, but yet I got selfish and texted u. Y couldn't u just live? I don't get it. I don't get it at all lolz

Maybe that's because I'm too young.

Maybe that's why you wanted me to promise not to kill myself when. I turned 15

You were still worrying about me when you weren't supposed to

Why were you so kind? Why are you so kind to *me*? Why couldn't you just leave me after that rp? Why couldn't you just let me rot and kill myself by slashing my wrists?

I hate that you understood me. I hate that you told me the risks of self harm when you were doing it yourself. I hate that you cared

Why did you care for me? You had no reason to, I'm just some stranger you met on discord.

Why couldn't you just be an example to me by being the toxic discordian everyone meets?

But I wouldn't have gotten vetter

Actually, I don't want to get better.

I want to have my body all skin and bones, I want to have anemia and die, I want to cut until my wrists were too sore to move

But you made me scared of not respecting myself

Why were you such a good person? You had every chance to manipulate me and do. More

Why did life treat you so poorly?

God why did you lie

Why did you lie about your father getting arrested?

We would never get disappointed at you because of that. None of it was your fault, why did you act as if it was?

God I fucking hate your family

I hate them so much

I want to punch them so badly. I want them to experience the pain you went through

Why couldn't you just be that oversensitive person and not accept how things ended

Why can't you understand that I don't.

I don't understand at all, I tried to for your sake.

Why can't I be more mature?

It's useless to ask silly questions

God I want to die so bad but I made a promise to you to not kill myself

You said you'd be angry at me when you look down on me/meet me in the afterlife

Yet you yourself told multiple people including me that you don't believe in life after death

You said that it would just end after death

God why did you lie just to be a good person?

I know you'll look at this post and cringe at it, asking me why I would pity you or remember you when you were such a disgusting human being

You were my friend, no, you're my friend. Of course I care about you

You cared about me, it's unfair if it's one-sided

I'm sorry for everything min

God I hate how it was set in stone.

I couldn't do anything and now I can't do anything as well

[kagetsukai]

I posted 541 times in 2022

13 posts created (2%)

528 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jellydishes

@feralgoblintea

@heroofshield

@mapplestrudel

@out-of-the-embers

I tagged 473 of my posts in 2022

Only 13% of my posts had no tags

#avenue queue - 425 posts

#dragon age - 65 posts

#art rec - 58 posts

#da:i - 37 posts

#signal boost - 32 posts

#i'm wheezing - 32 posts

#cullen rutherford - 28 posts

#commander handsome - 26 posts

#humor - 22 posts

#love it - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 103 characters

#every other flavor of white person i know (in europe) would rather die than have their guests be hungry

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Someone just tried to “shame” me for reblogging a hospital color theory post

Sir, we’re both on Tumblr in the year of our lord Beyonce 2022 and YOU are calling ME out for being cringe? Baby, that ship has sailed a LONG time ago. Get with the program. We’re all cringe here, but you in particular. Have a nice day 😘

6 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

#4

Well... I guess I’m middle-aged now.

7 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

#3

The reason it’s hard for me to be a person who is positive about the future is because anytime my life starts looking up and maybe things start falling into place, something huge and negative shows up and knocks me the fuck down. I always have, and continue to, merely keep my head above water.

7 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

#2

End of the year writing round up

I was tagged by @barbex​ and @roguelioness​

Overview: This year I mostly stepped away from writing for Dragon Age after a series of unfortunate events that made me bitter about the fandom. I kind of started writing a fic for The Wayhaven Chronicles, but the story uses so little of canon that it might as well be an original at this point. That being said, I did write a fair bit of it and I’m quite proud.

As you can see, I wrote 72K words last year and I am thrilled, because it’s the most I’ve written in one year, ever - by about 20k words. As a bonus, here’s the percentages of how often I wrote in the last year. It’s not great, but it sure is better than 2020. Go me!

See the full post

9 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

This was supposed to be a time of excitement and hope for the future. Instead, it’s become a nightmare.

About three weeks ago I finally made the decision to separate from the man I was living with. After several years of living like casual roommates, he was still blindsided when I told him I wanted to move out away from him, as if our relationship hadn’t been the worst joke in existence. Alas, after some sulking and some FB dramatics on his part, I was excited to move on. I was looking at new places to move into.

And then I found out my mother had a serious fall and had cracked her head enough to not be able to speak for a day. This stubborn woman had *refused* to go get it checked out and it wasn’t before I yelled at her that she chose to go get tested. It wasn’t until the day after that I found she had been admitted to the hospital. It wasn’t until the day after that I got the worse news of my entire life.

My mom has brain cancer.

The doctors are convinced that based on imaging they’ve done, the cancer had come from a different part of her body, but before they could give her all the testing to find out, she refused treatment, refused further testing, and went home. She hasn’t worked since the hospital stay and has been struggling to pick up things, or take care of basic needs.

I am still in shock, tbh, but I’m not afforded the luxury of processing my own emotions because suddenly she’s deteriorating at an exceeding pace and it looks like she might not have a lot of time.

In the meantime, I was approved for a wonderful one-bedroom apartment that looks absolutely *lovely*, but it’s incredibly hard to celebrate this new chapter of my life when it looks like I’m going to have yet another reason to hate my June birthday.

I don’t think I can explain more. All I can think about is the dry details, the information, the things that require logical parsing of what’s going on, because the moment I think about what I feel, I’m both numb AND like I’m about to break. None of it feels real, all while it’s way TOO real.

11 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[cheqorb]

drawn to you.

Being an artist means you’re always on the lookout for inspiration and rarely ever say no when an opportunity for it presents itself. Which is easier said than done.

featuring. bachira, kaiser

notes. set in a school au, i think. honestly somebody needs to teach me how to write better summaries, this feels so cringe. and sorry for not posting much, feels like im going through a writer’s slump rnnn

You stumble upon BACHIRA as you’re taking art supplies to another classroom, maybe it was simply a coincidence but the romanticist in you likes to think it was fate.

Embarrassingly, your foot catches on the uneven ground, sending you lurching forward. You instinctively brace for impact, the art supplies in your arms almost escaping your arms. Though, just as you're about to faceplant onto the concrete, a firm grip on your arm steadies you.

"Whoa there! Gotcha just in time," a cheerful voice exclaims.

You look up to see a boy with a wide grin and bright yellow eyes, his hand still securely holding your arm. Relieved that you didn’t make a complete fool of yourself the one time you go outside, you thank your saviour with a smile in return.

"Need some help with those?" he asks, gesturing to the overflowing bundle of canvases, brushes, and paints.

You aren’t exactly sure why he asked because he doesn’t wait for an answer, lifting up a couple of boxes. But hey, you appreciate the help.

As the two of you walk towards the clubroom, he starts talking. And boy, does he talk. You learn more about him in the next few minutes than you'd typically learn about someone in a month. He's on the football team, he’s 17 now, his birthday is on August 8th, and somehow, you even know his school schedule. You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm; it's cute in a way.

Just as you're about to open the door, he casually mentions his name (arguably the most important thing in an introduction to someone) in between all the chatter.

"By the way, I'm Bachira Meguru."

You freeze, your eyes widening slightly. Bachira? The name rings a bell. "Bachira? As in, the artist Bachira Yu?" you ask, your voice tinged with slight disbelief.

"Yep, that's my mom!" he replies, his grin even wider now.

For a moment, you're stunned into silence. She’s been one of your favorite artists, her work a source of great inspiration for you. The one you practically begged your parents to get tickets for her art gallery. And here you are, being helped by her son.

"T-That's incredible!" you finally manage, unable to contain your excitement. "I love her work! Her use of color and the way she captures emotion, it's just amazing!"

Now it's your turn to start yapping, words piling on top of another as you bombard him with questions about his mother, her art, and whether he has any of her talent. He listens with that same easygoing smile, happy to share stories about his childhood and growing up with an artist as a mom.

By the time you reach the clubroom and set down the art supplies, you've both laughed and chatted so much that it feels like you've been friends forever.

Sadly all good things must come to an end as you have to wave him off else he’ll be late for practice, apparently this happens quite frequently as one of his teammates comes to pick him up himself. You sheepishly tell Bachira that he’s welcome to pop by the club anytime and you’d be happy to talk to him again, which he readily agrees to.

In Bachira’s opinion, you’re a very friendly person!

One that he doesn’t want to forget about. When his head isn’t filled with football-induced mania, it always wanders back to you. Wondering what you’re up to these days and what art you could be planning. He excitedly rambles on about you to anyone who’ll listen (mostly Isagi) and gets all giddy when you come to watch him play.

Don’t even get him started on when he catches you sketching him.

In contrast, your introduction to KAISER is a little less fairytale-like. You suddenly pause in your work when you hear a very loud voice complaining obnoxiously in the corridor. Something about how all the clubs so far have been utterly boring and only the football club even remotely interests — of course he still doesn’t like most of the members there anyway.

Not exactly the type of thing that leaves a good first impression.

The moment the sliding door opens, rather aggressively might you add, a blonde guy waltzes in like he owns the place with his victim friend trailing behind him. “So, Ness, what club is this again?” he asks, completely ignoring you (y’know. the actual club member???) and instead turns around to ‘Ness’.

Barely within minutes of knowing each other, he then proceeds to call the room tacky and that he was ‘bored’ and needed a drink. To which Ness happily leaves to go get for him.

And now it’s just you two.

Trying to be optimistic about this, you settle for the idea that maybe this was just a bad start! Maybe he was a nice guy!

You smile, reluctantly so, “Hey, if you want to know more about the club or what we do, you can ask me anything ya like.”

He scrutinises the painting sitting at your easel, glaring at it almost. Before his eyes land on you for what seems to be the first time. Then he just. Asks, or rather, orders for you to paint him. And that he expects to see it tomorrow. You should’ve point blank refused (which would’ve saved you a LOT of stress in future) but you don’t want to start drama with someone like him.

Then he walks off like his behaviour was completely acceptable. Bear in mind, you don’t even know this guy’s name.

You come to know it soon enough though, because who else but Michael Kaiser has the arrogance to pay you a visit to critique your work and then leave. Just to do it all over again the next day. On Kaiser’s end, at first he just found your effort to horribly disguise your frustration kinda fun. Just a pleasant surprise to end each day.

But each time he comes into the room, with the strong smell of paint and clay hitting his nose and you sitting on a stool with an adorably pensive look on your face, he can’t help but feel obligated to come in once football practice is over.

He nitpicks small things about your artwork that literally nobody on planet earth would even notice:

His eyes are more of a lighter blue.

The eyelashes look too close together.

His tattoo has more thorns than that.

A crease on his shirt was off.

Just to have an excuse to spend more time with you since more mistakes = more time he can spend watching you fix them. And if it gets to a point whereby there’s simply nothing else for him to complain about, he’ll just ask for a new painting. Or maybe even a clay figure of him.

Who knows.

At this point, you’re exhausted and debate on whether or not to ask the club president for permission to get a lock for the door to keep a certain someone from entering. But you’re also such a pushover that you have this as an internal monologue (instead of saying it out loud) whilst the cause of your problems leans on your shoulder.

With an oddly satisfied look on his face.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I want to hear more horror stories about your cartoon cringe friend. He sounds like someone you’d hate to be around, but who’s also fascinating to observe

I had a childhood friend, let's call him Rich, who thought the real world operated on cartoon logic. I'll make a full post later (it's long and needs a lot of context), but here's one of the more egregious examples.

Do you remember that Disney logo with Steamboat Willie? This one

Notice how he's whistling and spinning the ship wheel back and forth super fast. And do you know how in cartoons whenever someone is driving they never leave the wheel steady, they always mime as if they're swerving back and forth?

Remember this. It's important to the story.

Whenever Rich's mom would pick me up to take me somewhere, I had to sit in the back of their SUV all by myself while they both sat up front. The only exception was on really long trips when he wanted to watch a movie (the flip-down DVD player could only be seen from the back, and of course he always got to choose the movie, always Pixar or Dreamworks, but that's not relevant). His mom was super flighty, a total airhead, the sort of negligent wine mom you see in TV shows which just reinforced his belief that fiction was reality. She would let a baby play with a fork next to a power outlet and think nothing of it. On more than one occasion when I slept over at his house, she would make dinner for the family and tell me to sit in the living room and watch TV until they were done.

She also loved to text while driving.

One day we're driving along, me in the back, Rich and his mom up front, and she receives a text. Usually she would answer one-handed, glancing back and forth between the road and her phone, but this was 2011 or 2012, around the time Rich was starting to learn how to drive. She picks up her phone, and tells him to take the wheel.

Can you guess what happened next?

Rich leans over from the passenger seat, takes the steering wheel in both hands, and starts VIOLENTLY JERKING IT BACK AND FORTH, whistling like Steamboat Willie!

I'm in the backseat, clinging on for dear life as if that would protect me, but without missing a beat his mom dropped her phone onto her lap and took the wheel back. She rights our course, and then snickers, telling him "maybe don't do that again." She didn't get angry, she didn't yell at him, she didn't tell him what he did was wrong or dangerous or irresponsible, she just laughed and said not to do it again. That's just what he thought driving was supposed to be like. He thought that you jerked the wheel back and forth because that's how it looks in cartoons. He thought it was totally normal, and his mom reinforced that by all but telling him it was funny.

That was when I realized this friendship was not worth clinging onto.

Rich and I limped along until 2013-ish when we finally stopped hanging out, and one of the last times I ever saw him was on my 17th birthday in 2014 because my mom thought it would be nice for me to spend some time with him before I went off to college (I graduated a year early), but that's a story for another time.

[oneirataxiahiraeth]

Room Thief

Pairings : avenger!reader x PeterParker

Warnings : swearing, dramatic reader, smut, oral (fem. & male), praise kink, unprotected sex, Peter being cute, fluff

Inspiration: That one episode from bobs burgers where Linda started an Airbnb and rented Louise’ room to Teddy.

The “oh hi, Louise 🙂” “oh hi, mom🤨” audio on tiktok.

A/N :

I wrote this toms birthday... did I post it on toms birthday? No... but it’s the thought that counts amirite?

I allowed myself to stop for a moment, taking in the word glares I was receiving from the rest of the team. Everyone just sat around, staring at me way too intensely as I walked into the compound. It was as if they were waiting for me to do or say something. Like I was supposed to say something.

  "Are you guys okay?" I asked slowly, watching as multiple stared broke away from me. Like they just couldn't help but not take there eyes off of me at first. "You seem a bit.. off."

  "Oh uh, no, we're good, Sorry." Pepper cleared her throat, unable to tear her eyes away from me. Did I have something on my face? I never got so many stares from so many people before. Not even when I looked my worst. Not even when I looked my absolute best. I hitch was a bit insulting now that I think about it.

  "Uhm... alright?" I sigh, eyes scanning over the group. Peter invited me out to breakfast this morning and just never showed up. I assumed he just slept in on accident, probably due to the amount of hours he spent patrolling the streets over the past few days. I would've went out to help last night, but MJ said she really needed my help with something so I spent all night with her. Strangely enough, all we did was talk about an existential crisis one of the characters were going through in the masters book shes read. "I'm going to go change."

   "You mean like... in your room?" Tony cleared his throat. There was no sarcasm in his voice, just pure concern for me being in my room.z

  "Where else would I- are you sure you guys are alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine." Steve cleared his throat, sending Tony a mean glare as if he's done something wrong. "You know, you should really stay down here with us for a while, y/n. We haven't talked to you in like... forever. Don't be stiff."

   "Did you just use modern day slang? You know what, uhm, yeah sure, whatever. Just let me change really quick, and I'll be right down... to talk." I spoke again, noting the weird behavior.

  "Wait, no!" Vision stood, quickly from the couch. He seemed out of it for second, before regaining his natural sense of calm. "I mean, wait." He rephrased. "I think you should let Wanda style your outfit for the day. In her room." He smiled, it seemed sweet yet condescending. A scary look he could not pull off at all.

  "Why?" I asked, Wanda standing up next to her boyfriend.

  "Because your wardrobe sucks!" Her accent making her words sound a bit harsher. My mouth dropped a little, eyebrows furrowing at the confession. "Pretend that I said that a little bit nicer." She cringed at the own harshness of her tone.

  "Uhm, yeah, ok... I'll meet you up at your room. Take your time, I have all day." I spoke, trying not to raise suspicions. She was on the same floor as Peter anyways, I'd just stop by his room to make sure he was breath before heading to hers. Both Wanda and Vision nodded, along with the rest of the group who seemed sort of relieved.

  I continued walking normally towards the elevator, with every intention of clicking her floor button. But I noticed the stares I was still receiving, like they were watching what I was about to do. I click her floor button, letting the doors close in front of me. For some reason though, a part of me was screaming at me to go to my room. Like something was off, and being in there would reset my balance. So I clicked my floor button. Wanda was only a floor below me, so I just stand on at the first stop, and got off at the second.

  And that's when I realized why they didn't want me going to my own room.

  The door was cracked open.

Someone went into my room. The one thing in this entire world that I have to myself and someone went into it. For what? For nothing, but everything in there belong to me and no one else. It's the one thing that I ask for. 'Don't go into my room when I'm gone' and 'don't touch my stuff'. The only request and set boundaries that I have or made. And some deliberately went against that. And now, here I was trying my best not be pissed off. Maybe it was just Peter in there sleeping in my bed. That was fine. I can deal with him sleeping in my bed when I'm away.

  See, now I'm all calm.

"What's going on in here?" My feet coming to a dead stop in the doorway. I spotted, 1 2 3. 3 bodies. 3 too many bodies in a room that didn't belong to any of them. Sam, Thor, and Peter. This whole trio just seemed odd to me... like why them out of all people? Sam slept next door, but we've never entered each other's rooms. Thor only ever came in when me and Peter were watching Star Wars to tell us how realistic it is and how on other planets in the galaxy he's seen places just like the ones in movies. And Pete only ever came in here when I was home, or out on a mission he couldn't attend... but all with my permission. No one in this room, asked my permission.

  "Oh hello, lady y/n!" Thor gasped, tossing the lamp he had in his had for some reason on my perfectly made bed.

  I didn't make my bed this morning.

Those wasn't even my bed set...

   "Hello boys..." I hummed, unable to hold on a smile on my face as I slowly took a step into my room.

  "Shit." Sam cursed under his breath, hanging his head down low. I was a bit of a freak about privacy and personal space. And here he was with a box filled with stuff in my room... my stuff. From what I could see it was a bunch of my books, and all of my electronics and their chargers my eyes then searched around until they landed on Peter who had a giant duffle bag with my clothes jam packed into into. It wouldn't even zip all the way it was so packed. And the worst part is, I don't even think he cared about the fact that all my shirt were being wrinkled because of him.

  "You're holding my stuff-"my head slowly tilted to the side.

  "Y/N before you get upset-" Peter tried, but it was already too late. My brain was moving faster than sound and I couldn't even think straight.

  "Hi Peter, what are you doing with my stuff?" My tone a little more harsh than it normally would be, but I just couldn't help it. There was nothing that bugged me more than people. touching. my. stuff.

  "Well I was- and then we were-"

"Don't say we!" Sam scoffed, shaking he head. "I was brought into this against my will-"

  "Why are you all in my room?" I asked again, tone somewhat more demanding than before.

  "I uh... we were just... uhm... welcomingournewguestintoyourroomforthenextfewweeks..." Thor spoke quickly, his voice raising at least 30 octaves higher than normal.

  "Into MY room?"

"For the next few weeks..." Peter added on, as if somehow I missed it the first time.

  "And how many weeks is a few?" I asked, trying to contain my will to punch each and every single one of the out of whatever window was closer.

  "Two months..." Sam answered... my willpower slowly withering away.

   "I didn't know mid guardian 'shampoo' smelled so divine!" An accent spoke out, echoing out of my bathroom. My eyes shot to Thor seeing as the accent sounding way too familiar to just be someone random.

  "Uhm... brother come out here please." Thor cleared his throat.

  "Brother!?" My eyes went wide, fist tightening at my sides.

  "Is she in her- oh shit" an out of breath voice coming from the doorway caught my attention. Bruce stood there, with wide eyes, about to back away before was able to reach out and grab the collar of his shirt.

  "You knew about this?" My eyes narrowed.

"No?" I took in a sharp breath. "Yes but Tony said not to tell you because Peter was supposed to deal with you!" He mumbled out, my grip on him dropping before my head snapped in Peters direction.

  "You weren't supposed to say anything!" He whined.

"She's scary!"

  "Are you done yet? I want to catch up on my reading before the sunsets." Loki came out with an interested look on his faces as his eyes scanned the room. His gaze stopped on me, before he sent a soft smile. "You must be, y/n! I'd say it's a pleasure but you look like your about to murder someone." He tilted his head at me.

  "Lady y/n, this is my brother Loki! He will be staying with us for a little while..."

  "You have a beautiful room, so nice and... organized."

"This isn't happening." I shook my head, my whole world basically falling apart in front of me.

  "Y/n-" Peter spoke up, walking towards me as if I wasn't seconds away from decking him in the throat.

  "This ISN'T Happening!" I breathed out, hearing the footsteps urge down the hall.

  "Uhm, on the bright side Tony said we could share a room for a while! No more sneaking out before sunrise, right?" Peter tried to make it better, not realizing that Tony was glaring at him from the doorway. "Oh I uhm- sorry. I mean-"

  "She doesn't seem very pleased with this whole arrangement." Loki sighed, not really caring, just watching I practically broke down.

  "She is very excited!" Nat claimed, wrapped her arms around my shoulder, as they all slowly pried me away from my room, my stuff animal still sitting on the shelves, watching me leave, never to return ever again. 

  "No im not! I did not invite Loki to come into my room-" I struggled against Wanda and Bruce's grip on me. "And move my stuff around!" I tried but their muscle power was just to much.

  "We'll see you at dinner, Loki." Tony spoke from the doorway as if this wasn't a big problem.

  "No! I'll see you in hell Loki you mother-" my hands caught a hold to the doorway, allowing me to hold onto something but not for long considering Steve was trying to pry my fingers off. "ILL SEE YOU IN HELL!"

  5 hours later...

"C-can I come in now?" Peter spoke, peaking his head in through the door. My eyes shot to him, but I didn't speak. He took that as a yes, and walked in, shutting his room door behind himself. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner..."

  "Really? Cause it doesn't seem like your sorry!" I scoffed, turning over in his bed so I wouldn't look at him.

  "I gave you a 1 hour cool off!" He defends himself. "How much longer can you be mad at me?" I practically hear the smirk in his voice.

  "2 months." He laughed. "Fucking asshole." I groaned, burying my face in one of his pillows, letting out a deep breath.

"W-wait, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He laughed again, scurrying to the bed. I felt the mattress dip under his weight, as he climbed his way over to me. His arms wrapping around me, smothering me in his scent, as he pressed sweet kisses up my shoulder and neck earning tiny giggle from me, only because it tickled. "Come on, forgive me. I'm sorry!" Peter whined, rolling my body over so we'd be face to face.

"But I want to be mad at you."

"Why?"

"Because I like the drama... what else?" I scoffed, his eyes rolling at me. "Now leave me alone so I can mope about that serpent in my room."

"So be mad at him, not me, forgive me. I'll do anything." He pleaded.

"Anything?" I asked, a smirk pulling at my lips as they did the same for his. His face lowering so that our lips hovered over each other's.

"Anything... just name it..." he nearly whispered.

"Get. My. Room. Back."

"Y/NNNN!!!!!" He whined.

"Leave me alone. So I can lay here and die slowly. All my stuffies are in there suffering from his stench and I'm down here with you."

"What's wrong with me?" He scoffed, as if I offended him somehow.

"Are you a stuffed animal with a ridiculous name that's a ridiculously bright color?"

"No."

"Then that's what's wrong with you."

He must've thought I was joking, because he began to laugh once again. I can't turn back over because he was right on top of me. And though I could've just knees him in between the legs, he was bringing too much comfort for me to want him to move.

"Forgive me." He stated once more, but I was stubborn.

"No. I'm not done being dramatic." I shook my head.

"Forgive me." He spoke again. I stayed silent, giving him a dead stare to let him know that I wasn't planning on giving up anytime soon. "Forgive me... please?" He spoke again, as if the cherry on top would've made the difference. "I'm begging you, my oh my, light of my life, I just want your forgiveness."

"That sounded very sarcastic."

"It was."

"I'm going back to ignoring you, dick." I scoffed, turning head the best that I could. Closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at him.

"Baby, I'm sorry." He whined, his head falling on my chest before picking himself up again. "Forgive. Me." He huffed. A few moments of ailments passed before I felt the first kiss. I was right on my cheek. I ignored it, trying to fight the smile at his adorable attempts to make me smile. "Forgive me." He hummed again before placing down another kiss on the corner of my lips. "Forgive me." He placed another one directly on my jawline. And the process continued. His kiss got lower and lower until he was in my cleavage and I was breathing a little heavier.

"I'm napping, can't forgive you sorry." I shrugged.

"But I'll do anything..." his voice a little softer, my eyes opening a bit to look at him, his dark brown eyes darker than usual with a glint of mischief in them. "Anything." He spoke again, his fingers running along my sides, down my body, stopping at the waist of my jeans. I felt my heart racing in my chest, even though we've done this plenty of times before, it always got me excited. "Still sleep?" He hummed, amusement in his voice. I didn't respond, just watched carefully at his next action.

He swiftly under the buttons and zipper on my jeans, tugging them down my legs. I was still silent just watching him in all his glory. His body crawling back up to mine, our lips hovering over each other's for a while. I could feel his crotch near my heat, getting me worked up at just the proximity. He brought his lips down on mine for a brief second before taking them away again. He crawled back down my body, snatching my underwear from my legs, ripping them in the promise.

"Peter!" I gasped.

"Shhhh..." he hummed, playfully allowing the fabric to fling off of his finger onto the floor.

I followed instructions, remaining silent as he moved again. His face coming down to centimeter in front of my heat. His breath hitting directly on my clit, sending an indescribable sensation through my body. My eyes never leaving his as I felt his tongue flatten over my folds, already dripping for him. Ready to take whatever it was he chose to give to me.

My legs opened a bit wider for him in their own, as he let his tongue travel through my sex. Sucking and working on my clit, earning breathless moans as I reveled in the absolute feel of him. The wet lewd sounds of his tongue against me filling the room. His hands placed on the insides of my thigh, keeping them apart, as he noticed them moving closer together around him. My chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. My hips pushing against him, desperate for more. I felt the vibrations from his own moans shoot straight through my being, the feeling better than anything I've ever felt before. My arousal continuously dripping onto his tongue. His lips attached to my clit, driving me absolutely insane.

"Oh fuck Pete- god!" I moaned, the sounds just rolling off my tongue. He just hummed in response, sending another shock to my core. His tongue fucking my hole with a power that almost had me screaming.

"yes yes yes, oh FUcK" I cried, my orgasm approaching quickly.

"Do you forgive me now?" Peter spoke, tearing his lips away from me, earning a loud whine.

"Yes, yes I do. I forgive the fuck out of you." I breathed watching his grin turn. "Please, I'm so close."

He went back down, continuing his work, my moan even loader the feeling on him. Before long he was holding my hips down to the mattresses as he was sucking me through an orgasm, not letting a single drop of me go to waste.

"Was that so hard to do?" Peter spoke with a cheeky grin on his face, lips pressing softly against mine once again.

"Well now I'm done being dramatic, but..." My eyes raked over his body. "Your not naked enough for me." I sent a fake pout, and he let out a light laugh. "I want you, like right now."

"Say please." He teased, my eyes rolling at the request.

"Please oh please, fuck me, Spiderman." I spoke in the same tone he used earlier.

"Really?"

"I think I'm funny." I shrugged.

"Mmhm." His eyes rolled, as he sat up, peeling down his shorts and boxers revealing his length, already hard and ready for me.

I wrapped my fingers around him, pumping him quickly as his forehead rested on mine. Tiny grunts and moans leaving his lips at my touch. I brought his tip to my entrance allowing him to do his own thing. He teased my folds with his tip, pressing down on my clit before going to down to my hole.

Slowly he pushed himself in extracting a loud moan from my throat. He let out a sigh as he allowed himself to bottom out. His hands on my legs, keeping the apart, allowing himself to look at exactly what was happening down there.

"God, you take me so well." He moaned out, my walls clenching around him.

Slowly he pulled out of my until as just his very tip resting into my cunt before moving his hips back into mine. He pace started off slow and sweet, allowing me to adjust to feeling before his hips began to snap into at a brutal pace. The sounds moans and near screams, and skin colliding together repeatedly filled the room.

"Fuck, your doing s-so well for me baby." Peter grunted.

I felt a heavy fluttering feeling throughout my body, as his grip on my legs got tighter. His movements sharper and more efficient hitting every single one of my rights spot.

He allowed my legs to close just bit before putting them over his shoulder, leaning down into me, hitting at a much deeper angle.

"Oh my fuu- Yes Peter!" I screamed, hands move up his biceps from something to grip on to.

My eyes squeezing shut as my vision blurred, I felt another orgasm approaching. My whole body going light and tensing as I neared my undoing, Peter above me singing praise after praise driving me absolutely wild.

  "M'so cl- ah I'm so close"

"Me too baby, let go for me." Peter moaned, his hips working faster and harder into me.

   My legs now stuttering as my mind was wiped smooth clean of thoughts. Nothing but moans able to escape my lips as it became physically impossible to be able to do anything else. 

  "Good girl, let go for me." He groaned, straight up tackling me right off the edge. I came with loud moan of his name, my cunt convulsing around him as he continued to fuck into me. My legs shaking over him, my sight going completely black, everything feeling foreign to me in this moment right now. My toes curling as I felt my release tear through me, his sweet praises egging me on.

"Fuuuckk." I moaned, body coming down from the high as he pulled out of me. His hand went to pumping his own cock, head thrown back in his own fit of pleasure.

I used whatever strength I had, sitting up and taking his cock in my own hand. Pumping him as quickly as I could. His eyes peering down at me, watching as I worked him towards him own high.

"Oh god, just like that, yeah-" he moaned. I could felt him twitching in my hand, his face twisting with pleasure. "I'm gonna cum" his mouth dropped open, as mine wrapped around his tip. My hand pumping whatever I didn't have the energy to fit as I allowed my head to bob on him. I could taste my own juices around him as I sucked on his tip.

He came with a long moan of my name, my mouth taking down more of him than I had, all his hot seed to hit the very back of my throat. I took down as much as I could, milking him for all he was worth before he became too sensitive and just pulled himself out of my mouth himself, collapsing right next to me on the bed.

    "Nice of the two of you to join us." Tony cleared his throat, taking a sip of whatever was in his glass. I just sent a glare towards him, taking a seat next to Nat as Peter took the seat on the other side of me.

  "Everything thing looks really good. Thank you, Wanda and Mr.Vision." Peter smiled sweetly, way too nice to the people who had so easily given up MY room to the godly guest. "y/n.." Peter cleared his throat, elbow nudging my arm to speak up.

“yeah thanks.” I sigh, earning a glare from Peter. “M’sorry for overreacting early.” I huff, not too happy to be apologizing for a situation where I was in the right, but Peter had given me the whole ‘be a bigger person’ speech in the elevator on the way down. I looked over to Thor and his room stealing brother, offering the best fake smile I could. Telling by everyone’s faces it wasn’t very convincing. “I hope you enjoy your time here.” I spoke through my teeth.

“Uhm, thank you, lady y/n.” The dark haired god spoke carefully.

I was going to let it go eventually. But that was before I noticed the distinct fruity smell in the air. A smell I had recognized as the Shampoo Steve had gotten me for my birthday a few months ago. He claimed he didn’t know what I wanted, but I think he just forgot and he had to improvise. Either way, I knew the smell because it was one of my favorite shampoos I’ve ever used. And now that smell was in the air. And it wasn’t me. Leaving only one other person.

“Y/N!” Peter gasped, hand gripping at my wrist. A knife caught in my grip as my hand went into the air. I hadn’t even noticed, it was probably just a reflex.

[imfinewhosamity]

Today is Wordgirl’s 15th anniversary!

To celebrate, I’m gonna post my WG fan fiction from when I was in 2nd grade. Spelling errors and all.

I thought I threw this out a long time ago, but I found it in the basement last year.

I’m aware it’s not very good, I cringe reading this today.

My name is gonna be replaced with Kiki, as that is my profile pic at the moment.

If any of my friends come across this, I’m sorry you had to see this. 💀

Alright.

Mr. Bigs apples and fruitPunch

By Kiki

alongbook

Just a fine day at the Bosverters house. When Becky and Bob played go fish Sudedly aman Said Help! Mr big is giving evreone some apples and fruit punch! Beky said to Bob come on bob. and beky said wordup. Stop right there Mr Big. Mr. Big Said hey Word girl. Want some apples and fruit Punch? Sure Said Word girl. but wordgirl didint know that Mr. Big Put Mind Control juice in the apples and fruit Punch. And guess What…. WORDGIRL GOT MIND CONTROL! A Villain named Kiki took some of Mr. Bigs apples and some of Leslies fruit punch. And She got mind control too! Evreyone got Mind control! Even Animals got mind Control! When Kiki was going home she looked inthe miorr and She Said What will my mother Say? She wrote a letter that said Dear mom Today I amblind. I can not talk. my Behavivr might be a little nahty today. love Kiki. She showed the letter to her mother and She said thanks for telling me Kiki. When Kiki got to school She acted Just likethe note. The other kids did not have mind control. But… WE WERE CELABRATING SOMEONE’S BIRTHDAY! She passed out apples and fruit punch. then evreyone got mindcontrol in the class. even the teachers. Kiki’s best friend got mind control too! NoOne could Stop mr. Big! When Kiki came on the bus Sge noticd evreyone on the bus got mind control. When Kiki Came home She noticed Mommy and the neighbor’s dog got mind control. When Kiki and mommy came inside, she looked at her brother sister and daddy and they had mind Control. Even Chuck (our fish) got mind control. Even our webkinz pets get mind control. Then a Police Man said what does this button do? He pressed it then the Police man took Mr.Big to Jail. But….. MR. BIG AND LESLIE GOT OUT OF JAIL! He gave evreyone mind control again. Then Mr.Big Said I need a eviler plan. and then The pepole helped M.r. Big.

The end

[mypoisonedvine]

Tattletale | (dark)stepbrother!Sam Wilson x reader

summary: your step-brother was kind enough to let you stay at his apartment just off-campus when you began your freshman year of college where he was a senior.  unfortunately, his kindness ran out when he learned about your secret side-hustle.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut!! (noncon/heavy dubcon and stepcest, they’re not biologically related but were raised from adolescence as siblings), facefucking, slapping, choking, degradation, coercion, DP (with a toy), anal play, possessive behavior, unprotected creampie, lots of crying/implied dacryphilia

this is a dark fic containing triggering topics, please do not read if this would be triggering for upsetting for you in any way.

Your step-brother (and roommate… and technically your landlord) wasn’t usually home when you got back from your Econ class, so you jumped a bit when you saw him nursing a beer in your shared living room; apparently, he was waiting for you.

“Hey, Sammy,” you greeted sheepishly, suddenly feeling self-conscious when his eyes raked over your body— it was hot out, so you just had on a tank top and cut-off shorts, but now you wish you’d covered up more.

“Hey,” he nodded back, setting the beer down and leaning back on the couch, “you got time to talk for a minute?”

His tone made you a little nervous, but his casual body language set you at ease.  He probably just wanted to ask if you could stay somewhere else over the weekend so he could have a girl over, or maybe he needed your help with one of his more difficult assignments— though frankly, you probably couldn’t help much with a senior-level project.  “Sure,” you shrugged, setting your backpack down and slipping off your shoes to join him on the couch.  “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really, I just feel like we don’t talk as much as we used to,” he explained with a little sigh.  Something about the way he glanced to the side for a moment made you wonder if he was being completely transparent.  “Remember when we were younger and we talked all the time?  Or when I moved away to start here and we called every day?  I miss that…”

You smiled a little, moving closer on the couch to rest your hand on his.  “Me too,” you admitted.  “I just figured you saw me as your annoying little sister.”

“I do,” he laughed, “but, you know, we used to be really close!  You used to tell me everything.  And now… now I don’t think you tell me everything.”

Your suspicion that this was more directed than he let on was growing, but you wanted to be close again, too, so you let it continue.  “Well, we’re older now so it’s not quite the same…”

“I guess it’s normal for siblings to grow apart when they’re adults, but, I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t see it coming with us.  And now that I’m letting you live here I thought it would be like old times; to be honest, that was part of why I had you move in in the first place.”

Just as you started to shift away, he flipped his hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away.  “Sammy,” you whispered in shock, leaning back as much as you could even as he moved in closer.

“I think it’s the least you can do to be honest with me, sis,” he hissed.

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, your gut sinking in fear of being reprimanded by him.  He was so friendly 99% of the time, but you were still terrified of those few memories you had of him getting angry with you.  Disappointing him was one of your greatest fears.

Sam laughed, but he didn’t exactly seem amused.  “Stop playing dumb, honey, I think you know what this is about.”

“I… I don’t…” you stammered, your heart dropping further when he reached for his phone.

“Got a text from Steve today,” he explained as he unlocked it.  “Wanna guess what it was?”

You swallowed dryly, more sure than ever that it was what you dreaded most.  “I don’t know, Sam…”

“I’ll give you a hint,” he grimaced, reading something from the screen.  “Kinky virgin horny for cock, 18, freshman at NYU.”

You looked away but he instantly grabbed your face and turned you to look at him.  “You know, I let you live here while you were in college so you could get an education.  Not be a fucking slut.  Did you think I wouldn’t find your OnlyFans?  Steve found it first, god knows what he did with these pictures before he sent them to me.  Is this what you wanted?  Any guy— even a guy we know— to get off to these pictures?”

Your shoulders slumped and your chest deflated as you started to cry.  “I’m s-so sorry, Sammy—”

“Don’t call me that,” he sneered.  “How stupid are you?  Did you think these would stay private?  Guys trade these all the time, they’re never secret for long.  How long have you been doing this, huh?  Must’ve been a while considering the sheer magnitude of content.  Looks like your first post was on your 18th birthday— Jesus fucking Christ, you couldn’t wait a minute could you?  I was there that day… when did you sneak off to take this little number, huh?”

You didn’t want to look as he turned the phone to you, but his hand tight around your wrist was a reminder not to struggle too hard.  You remembered taking the photo, and it had been during your party.  The idea of how wrong it would be to strip down in your parent’s bathroom to snap a picture in the mirror had only been more encouraging at the time.  For some reason you hadn’t considered that someone would find it; you cringed at the idea that Steve saw you entirely nude, let alone your brother.  It was humiliating.

“And what about this one, huh?  How fucking slutty are you?” he spat, pulling up another picture and shoving the phone in your face as you were confronted with the image of you on your bed with your legs spread, fingers toying with your clit.  “You really don’t leave anything to the imagination.”

“Sam, I didn’t— you weren’t supposed to—”

“Just stop talking.  I can barely look at you right now,” he shook his head.  “This stuff is seriously depraved, sis.  The idea of all these guys drooling all over my little sister… and you actually encouraged them, the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tears poured down your face, and you felt like the anger radiating off of him would burn your skin somehow.  

“And don’t give me some stupid fucking sob story about how you’re doing this to pay for school when I know damn well that mom and dad pay for your classes and I pay your fucking rent.  You didn’t do it for money; you did it for fun.  You did it ‘cause you’re a shameless fucking slut.”

“‘M not,” you denied, “Sam, really— I’m still a virgin, I don’t— you know I don’t do that.”

“You just fantasize about it.  And chat with strangers online about it.  And make videos going on and on about how bad you wanna get fucked.”

You shuddered as you realized: “You watched one of my videos?”

He grinned and pulled you closer.  “Baby… I watched all of them.”

Completely at a loss for words, you silently tried to squirm away only for him to wrap his other arm around you and pull you closer, ignoring your sobs of fear and confusion.

“You’re actually sorta talented, for a dumb little virgin who had no idea what she’s getting herself into,” he purred against your ear, starting to push up your tank top.

“N-no,” you whimpered, “Sam, stop— I’m sorry.  I’ll delete the account, I’m sorry.”

“Too late for apologies, little sis,” he cooed, “it’s not just the account.  It’s that you made those posts from my apartment, you took those pictures in the room that I gave you.  Not to mention the way you walk around in these tight clothes, teasing me just because you can.  This goes way deeper than a few dirty pictures, sweetheart, and you know it.”

When you tried to wriggle away again, he seemed to exert nearly no effort at all to be able to spin you around and pull you down into his lap, where the shape of his hard cock pressing against your ass was obvious.  “Sam, s-stop, this isn’t funny.”

“Damn right it isn’t funny, I’m dead fucking serious,” he growled against your ear.  “What was it that you said in your most recent video, the one where you were wearing a collar and using that gaudy pink vibe on your clit?  ‘I need your cock to ruin my hole, daddy’... am I remembering that right?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, and he laughed darkly against your ear as he pulled your hips into his.  

“Say it, then.  Like you said it in the video.”

“Sam, no—” 

“No?” he repeated incredulously.  “You can’t say no to me, honey.  Cause if you do, I’m gonna send all these pictures and videos to mom and dad, tell them all about how their precious little angel is selling her ass on the Internet with the phone they pay for and the laptop they bought.  What are they gonna say to that?  Think they’ll take you back after that, let you stay with them when I kick you out?  As if.  So unless you think one of these creeps online is gonna give you a place to stay, seems like I’m your only option.”

You choked on a sob as you cried harder, hating that he was right.  

“So you need to start doing what you’re told, or you’re gonna end up doing a lot worse with someone much less generous than me, got it?”

Terrified of him but unable to imagine the alternative, you nodded.

“Then.  Fucking.  Say it.”

“I…” you began, sounding weak and weepy compared to the original video you were quoting, “I need your cock… to ruin my hole… daddy.”

“Eh, needs improvement but it’s a start,” he shrugged, throwing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you.  When you tried to protest, or at least turn around to face him, he slapped your ass harshly and it stung even through the denim shorts.  “I have needs too, sis.  Can’t hardly get any when you’re here all damn day being a fucking cockblock.  And frankly, since you started dressing like this and acting like a whore, I haven’t even been able to think about anybody else… can’t get hard for anyone but my slutty little sister.”

He leaned down to press his body against yours, pinning you against the cool leather by your shoulders.  

“Steve told me about your account weeks ago, babe… I’ve been getting off to your cute little pictures ever since.”

It made you wince, but it made him laugh.  Shame and fear and disgust swirled in your gut and made you nauseous, his grip on you tight enough to leave a bruise as he dug his fingertips into your skin.  When he sat back up, he started pulling at your jean shorts roughly, ripping them slightly as he shoved them down to your thighs.

“Wow, look at this pretty little ass,” he groaned.  “A thousand guys have seen it, but it’s better in person.”  He slapped you again on either cheek, hard enough to make you yelp.  “What’s the matter, sis, I thought you liked being spanked?  You talk about it all the time.  You talk about how you want me to spank you raw and leave marks all over your body, hurt you and break you and claim you.”

“I— I wasn’t talking about you,” you defended, remembering how you always addressed the viewer when dirty talking in your videos, but keeping it generic enough that any guy could imagine it was him.

“Then who did you think about when you got off?  Who was it that got you wet for your videos?” he pressed.  “Because you’re wet right now… and I’m the only one here.”

You shook your head, you tried to speak to deny it, but words escaped you as he flipped you around and hovered above your face.

“Do you get wet for anybody, baby, is that it?  Will you spread your legs for any cock?  Or do you just have a special place in your cunt for your big brother?”

Your stunned silence earned you a slap to the face, sending your head spinning to the side as your cheek stung and burned.  Just as the heat of the impact really started to get to you, he hit you on the other side, and again, until you finally gave him an answer: “You!” you yelped suddenly.  “You, Sam, just you!”

He laughed a little, leaning down and capturing your lips in an unexpected, dominating kiss.  It was awkward and sloppy, exactly the sort of kiss one would expect when it was forced; just as passionless and confused on your end as a kiss to your step-sibling should be.  But he moaned against you and forced his tongue deeper into your mouth, hands coming down to grope your tits through your tank top and bra.  Trying to push him away was beyond useless, and he slapped you again without even breaking his lips away from yours.  Soon he was reaching to pull down your top— no, wait, he was tearing through it, and your bra snapped like a rubber band against his strength.  When he grabbed your breasts again, without any clothing in the way this time, your nipples were hard and sensitive between his fingers; it was so obvious that he smiled into the kiss, biting your lip playfully.  “Wow, you really do like this.  Your step brother’s forcing himself on you and you’re such a whore that you’re actually into it.”

He slapped your breast, just hard enough to sting, and you cried out; he did it again and your back arched.

“Yeah, I knew you just needed to be put in your place, little sis.  Just needed me to fix your attitude, that’s all.”  He wrapped his hand around your neck, not squeezing enough to cut off airflow but obviously threatening it, before leaning down to whisper in your ear: “get on the ground, on your knees.”

Even for what was left of your virginal innocence, you knew what he wanted.  Wordlessly, your only sounds the weak little sobs that shook your chest, you slipped out from beneath him and onto the floor by the couch.  He shifted to sit in front of you with wide legs, thick thighs spread as he looked down at you with an expression of anticipation.  

“Get on with it, honey, I know you know how.  Seen you choke on your toys a thousand times.”

After taking a stabilizing breath to cope with what was happening, shivering from the cold air on your exposed upper half, you sat up slightly and reached for his belt.  You’d felt it pressed against you before, but now you could see the shape of his cock threatening to burst out of his jeans, so thick and long that you were confident he heard the little gasp you let out.  And yet, you knew you had to trek forward, so you began to unclasp his belt before unzipping his fly.  He lifted his hips to help you pull his pants and boxers down, but other than that he was too busy stroking the side of your face with his fingers in a move much too delicate for the situation.  You stopped breathing for a second when you saw the size of him, his cock bouncing up when you released it to slap against his stomach.

“Sam, I can’t,” you sighed, starting to back away, “I’ve never— it won’t fit.”

“Nah, baby, it’s okay,” he encouraged gently, pulling you closer, “you can take it just fine.  Just open your mouth, sis…”

He guided the tip of his cock between your lips, still swollen from his bruising kiss, and you whimpered when you felt his warm skin against your tongue, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked out slow and steady.

“Yeah, just like that, now go ahead and suck on me,” he instructed, groaning when you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks, using your tongue to tease the slit like you’d read online was a good thing to do.  He chuckled and bucked up into you, holding your head as he started to pump his hips and slowly fill your mouth to the brim.  “See, you can do it— now choke on it.”

When he pushed in until you gagged, your first instinct was to push on his thighs and try to get away for air, but he held you down as he hissed through his teeth.

“I know you can take all of me in your throat if you just stop fucking fighting,” he hissed, slapping you one more time which caused your throat to open up in shock— and it was just enough for him to shove in deeper, groaning at the feeling.  “Yeah, that’s it… fuck…” he sighed, moving his hips faster.  The struggle for air made your eyes water (although you hadn’t really had much of a chance to stop crying in the first place) as your grip on his thighs tightened.  “I bet your pussy is getting so wet for me right now,” he chuckled, “I bet you love choking on my cock, huh?”

You tried to shake your head but you couldn’t really move much; he pulled you off of his length by your hair, just in time to give you a much-needed sputtering gasp for air.

“Fuck, I’d love to fill that pretty throat with my come,” he smiled— a sinister sort of grin that made you shudder as you looked up with him, feeling spit and pre-cum on your lips and chin— “but I know what you want.  Since you’ve spent all year begging to lose your virginity on the internet, I figure I’ll be nice and give you what you’ve been asking for.”

Before you could even begin to consider a response to that, he hoisted you up and threw you back onto the couch, spreading your legs as you looked away in shame.

“Yep, I was right, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he laughed.  “You nasty little slut, are you actually getting off on this?  Wow.”

A renewed sense of ‘dear god this cannot happen’ shot through you as he leaned down and slid his cock over your folds, teasing your clit with his swollen head.  “Sam, stop, please…”

“I’m kind of getting tired of you begging,” he hissed as he leaned down, glaring right into your eyes as you froze beneath him.  “I’m obviously not going to stop,” he explained as his hand slipped around your throat, “you dumb fucking bitch.”

Your ability to fight back was taken with your opportunity to breathe, his strong fingers cutting off blood flow to your head quickly as he clamped down on your neck.  Instantly you clawed at his hand, your vision starting to go a little spotty, and he laughed at you coldly before letting go.  And when he finally did, his hand moved instead to hold both your wrists above your head while the other guided his cock into your pulsing entrance.  When he pushed his hips forward, the air was punched from your lungs as your back arched, a sharp pain reverberating over your body from the stretch of him inside you.

“Fuck!” he groaned, pushing in deeper, slow but consistent.  “You’re tight, baby, you really did need a cock to ruin this hole, huh?  Fuck, ‘m gonna, just hold still…”

But how could you hold still, when every instinct had you moving your hips to try to push his cock out, your hands tightening into fists as they tried to fight against his strength.  Of course, now that he was inside, he had a second arm to hold you down with, but the terrifying thing was that he really only needed the one.  “Sam!” you sobbed, your own voice sounding foreign with the way it wavered and cracked.

“Yeah, baby, that’s me inside you,” he purred, “that’s your big brother’s cock tearing up this little pussy…”

When he roughly shoved the rest of himself inside, the tip of his cock found the end of you and your eyes shot open.  He smiled down at you as he examined your face; twisted in pain, and glistening with tears turned greyish-black by your mascara.

“None of your toys ever went this deep in you before, huh?  Poor thing, should’ve known you were all talk… you don’t even know how to take those big cocks you drool over.  I can’t even imagine what you’ll be like when I put this in your ass.”

He cackled at the pure terror that danced over your expression, and the way your walls tightened around him briefly.  

“Relax, sis, not today.  I’m just sayin’, if you want me to keep my mouth shut to mom and dad, you’re gonna have to keep me happy.  Lucky for you, I’m very happy right now, snug inside this sweet little cunt of yours…” he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your cheek and moving to suck on your ear, bite your neck, lick up and down over your pulse.  He was waiting, you realized, for your body to relax so he could move inside you with less resistance.  You were a little surprised he didn’t just jackhammer into you with no regard for your pain, but you had a feeling that part was coming soon anyways.

He reached down to pull your legs up, guiding them to wrap around his hips, and the new angle forced his cock a little deeper which made you squeal.  The sound morphed into a stuttered moan, however, when he pulled back out of you slowly, savoring every detail of your walls as he sighed against your skin.

When he slammed back home, your nails dug into your own palms.

“Baby,” he whispered, “you’re close, aren’t you?  Just from this.  You always came so fast in your videos…”

Irritatingly, he was right; your walls were flexing as more slick coated his thick shaft, dripping down until you could hear the wetness whenever his hips slapped into yours.  You couldn’t help it, considering how he pushed right into your g-spot with every stroke inside you, hitting every sensitive place harder and better than any toy ever had.

“See, baby?  We were made for each other,” he cooed.  “You were made to take this cock.  You were meant to be my little fucktoy.”

You hated the way his words only added to your pleasure, pushing you right up to the edge— which his cock slamming all the way into you one last time finally sent you over.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when he felt the force of your orgasm, smiling pridefully as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the couch.  “So sensitive, sweetheart, and so fucking wet for me…”

He fucked you faster and— somehow— deeper, chasing his own release with aggressive thrusts into you.  Each of his low grunts against your ear sent shivers down your spine, your legs around him tightening to pull him closer.

Just as you thought he might find his rhythm for a while and maybe, if you were lucky, be finished with you soon, he pulled out quickly and patted your thigh.  “Hands and knees, baby,” he instructed, watching you shakily turn around and lift yourself on weak arms.  It was short-lived, though, as he pushed your face back down into the couch cushion, forcing your back into a dramatic arch that made you feel like your body was on display for him.  As if that wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, you couldn’t even see him much anymore, which meant you had no idea what he was reaching for when he leaned back— but you heard what it was when he turned it on.  “Oh, you recognize this?” he mused.  “It was my favorite of everything I saw you use.”

He rubbed the vibrator over your folds slowly, chuckling a little when you jolted each time it brushed against your clit.  You didn’t really understand why he would want to fuck you with a vibe when he seemed to have been enjoying doing it himself; but then he slid it up a little higher, to your other hole, and you gasped.  “S-Sam,” you pleaded.

“I know you took it here before.  I watched you do it.  I even heard you the night you filmed it— these walls are thinner than you think, sis.”

Shame burned on your face as you imagined him listening to you put something up your ass for the first time, only for him to see the video the next morning when you uploaded it.

“Do you think it’s gonna feel different when I put it in while I fuck you?” he mused, pushing the vibrating tip of it into your hole.  Thankfully it was pretty slender, so the stretch wasn’t bad, but the vibrations were strong enough that you could feel them everywhere, and you realized he would be able to feel them, too, while he was inside you.  “You’re gonna be so fuckin’ full, sis, stuffed to the brim just like you wanted.”

He pushed the toy in deeper until your hands clutched at the sofa beneath you, which was apparently his cue to guide his cock back into your drenched pussy.  Just as he promised, you felt so full that you had no idea how to cope with it, your legs shaking as you tried not to collapse beneath him.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, moving himself and the toy at alternating paces inside you as you mindlessly drooled onto the cushion, your overstimulated body barely able to handle the sensations he was forcing upon you.  “You like being my little fucktoy, don’t you?  You’re so pretty like this, so pretty being used just like you deserve.”

“Sammy, please,” you sobbed, barely intelligible as you couldn’t really string your thoughts together anymore.

“You want more, huh?  Needy little slut,” he snarled, but the way he said it almost sounded like a compliment.  It certainly made your heart swell as if it was.  He fucked you faster, then, and pushed the vibrator as deep into your ass as it would go until you were sobbing and blubbering and basically just a complete mess beneath him.  “Keep squeezin’ me so tight and I’m gonna come inside you, sweetheart,” he moaned.

Some part of your brain was still aware enough to know that that was not a good idea, but you didn’t even really think to tell him not to because you knew he would anyway.  Finally, you had accepted that he was going to do whatever he wanted with you and your resistance only brought out his crueler side.  

“Fuck, come again for me,” he demanded, “come on my cock while I come inside you— that’s it, cream on my fucking cock while I fill you up, slut.”

It was jarring, the way his words suddenly knocked you over the edge again as you cried out, fresh tears filling your eyes and joining the damp spot beneath your face on the couch.  You felt both your holes clenching around the intrusions he had filled them with, your head going fuzzy and your limbs going numb from the intensity of your peak; waves of warmth washed over you as you slumped down a little bit, the distant sound of his praises just barely reaching your ringing ears.

His free hand held your hips tightly while the other kept pumping the vibrator into you, and even through all the overwhelming stimuli going on at the moment, you could feel his cock beginning to flex deep inside you.  Each pump of his come painting the deepest parts of you coincided with a low moan from him, the sound so cruelly perfect and forcing your channel to clamp down on him, weakly, one last time.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned as he caught his breath, turning off the vibrator before slowly pulling it out of you and tossing it aside.  He kept his cock inside for longer, though, as he rubbed your ass and back gently.  “You’re gonna be such a good little fucktoy for me, sis, I just know it.”

He let you drop when he pulled out of you, your spent body limp and leaking on the couch as he stared down at you.

“I think you need a shower, sweetheart,” he chuckled.  “But first, you need to give me the password to your OnlyFans so I can help you delete it, okay baby?  We don’t need anybody else looking at what’s mine.”

[honeypiehotchner]

winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader

Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).

I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.

(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)

Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love). 

Word count: 9.4k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.

Like she’s doing now.

“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.

The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.

You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.

You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.

“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”

“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.

You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”

“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”

“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.

She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”

“You should go.”

You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”

“Why don’t you want to?”

You give her a look. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

She does. She knows exactly what happened there.

“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”

“So you do remember!”

“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”

You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”

You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.

+++

It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.

Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.

You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.

More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.

That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.

You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.

But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.

He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.

He was correct.

It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.

But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.

Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.

That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.

And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.

The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.

Until Aaron met Haley.

Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.

You watched your best friend fall in love.

And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.

You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.

Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.

Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).

How he thought he might want to marry her one day.

The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?

But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.

He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.

Then came the summer before his senior year.

It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.

June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.

July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.

Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?

But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.

Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.

You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.

You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.

The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.

You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.

You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.

+++

You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.

Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.

But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.

You need coffee.

You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.  

Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.

Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.

You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.

So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.

You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.

Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.

Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.

Maybe he won’t recognize me.

But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.

Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.

If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?

The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?

Who is he?

You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?

You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.

You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.

Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.

“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.

“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”

He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.

Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.

“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.

And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.

Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.

Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.

It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.

“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”

“You stole my question,” he jokes.

“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”

He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”

“The B-A-What?”

“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”

“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”

“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”

“We’re a team,” he offers.

“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”

You give him a look. “Of course I do.”

“It’s not great.”

“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”

“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”

“You what?”

He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”

“Intriguing.”

“I can’t believe you’re interested.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”

“I remember,” he says quietly.

And just like that, you remember, too.

It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.

“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”

“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”

“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”

“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”

It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”

You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.

“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”

“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”

“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”

“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”

“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”

“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”

“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.

Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.

“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”

He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”

A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.

You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”

You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.

Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.

“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.

“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”

“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.

And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”

“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”

“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”

You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”

“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.

But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free.”

He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”

“I was going to ask,” he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”

After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.

He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.

“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”

Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.

You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.

Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.

Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.

+++

After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.

But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.

He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.

You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.

You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.

In the end, your prediction was correct.

“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.

The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”

“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.

You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”

She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”

There it is.

“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”

“Oh, I knew that already.”

You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”

She grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”

“Did he seem angry when you asked?”

“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”

“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”

“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”

Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”

Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”

“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”

“Shut up.”

She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”

While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.

Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today

You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.

He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.

You try not to think too much about it.

+++

And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.

You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.

Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.

You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.

“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.

You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.

“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”

“Okay…”

You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”

Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”

Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.

“So it’s...a date, then?”

“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”

“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”

“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”

“Same difference.”

“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.

+++

You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.

“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.

You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.

That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”

“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”

“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”

“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”

“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”

“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”

You blink. “They do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”

“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”

“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”

He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”

“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.

But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.

“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”

Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”

You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”

Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”

You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.

“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”

“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.

Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.

+++

You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.

You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.

Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.

Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?

You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.

But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.

It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.

He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.

You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.

You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.

Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.

Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.

But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.

“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”

“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.

When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”

“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”

“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”

“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.

Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.

After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.

In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”

From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”

“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”

He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”

“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.

+++

After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.

You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.

“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”

Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”

“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”

He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”

“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”

“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”

Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”

You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.

The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.

“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.

You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”

“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.

“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.

The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.

“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.

“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.

“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”

“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.

“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”

The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.

“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”

“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”

“In-- Wow, okay.”

“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.

“I see that,” you chuckle.

Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”

“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you smile.

“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”

“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”

“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.

She nods. “Definitely.”

Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”

“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.

“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.

“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”

Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”

You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”

“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”

You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.

“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.

“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.

You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”

For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.

Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.

You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.

Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.

+++

After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.

You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.

You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.

The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.

“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”

Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.

“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”

You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”

“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”

Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”

“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”

You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.

“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.

Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”

You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.

It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.

The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.

You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.

Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.

He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.

Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.

Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.

“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”

He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.

He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.

You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.

You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”

You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.

You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”

Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”

“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”

This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”

“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”

Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”

“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”

“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”

“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”

“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”

You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.

“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”

“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”

You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”

“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”

“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.

And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.

His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.

From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.

[heshoes]

Twin Telepathy

❝And I never thought it would be true that one day I'd have to live without you.❞ In which a connection started at birth remains strong until the bitter end.

Warnings (BC THIS ONE IS TRIGGERING): ⚠️ angst, main character death.

Idk the word count but this one is short

Main Characters: Harry Styles, Edward Styles

There is no smut in this one my loves. I wrote this like 5 years ago and I’m posting it here now. I hope you enjoy and reblog let’s talk about it after you read.xx

5

Age five is when Harry and Edward noticed that they were identical. Age five was the time of development for secret languages, tricks, and pranks pulled on parents, grandparents, and even the teachers at primary school because they could get away with it.

They would even switch classes sometimes.

Harry was always good at maths. He progressed at counting blocks and telling time where Edward was a bit more fuzzy in the subject. However,  Edward could always read and excelled in primary school literature despite the fact that he would throw a tantrum anytime his mum would pull him away from the television in order to for him to read her a bedtime story.

“What time is it Harry?” Their mum would ask knowing full well what the time was herself,  as she took her seat behind the two curly headed boys on the floor who sat helplessly too close to the television. One because he really couldn’t see all that well, the other because he wanted to be close to his brother.

“I’m not Harry! I’m Ed.” Harry laughed cheekily as he told a lie while his brother squinted to look at the cartoon characters on the telly screen.

“Well, Ed,” His mother spoke playing along with his game, “What time is it?”

“Eight o’clock! Time for bed?”

“Thats right!” Their mother laughed, “When did you get so much better at telling time Edward?”

“Uh-oh”

“That’s right, Harry. Uh-oh.” The boy laughed in his mothers arms as she began to tickle and he began to squirm. Edward found it amusing, and because his brother laughed so did he, feeling the same exact joy that his brother did from the top of his head down to his tiny toes. Rushing for his mother in order to save his brother from the tickle monster, Edward pulled Harry from her arms, and for once he didn’t put up a fight when his mother asked him to read to her after he and Harry were dressed in their pajamas.

•••••

10

Ten was the age of growing into your face and the ever present awkward phase that everyone has to go through. By age ten, Harry had to wear braces and Edward wore a pair of glasses thicker than should be allowed. Their pranks didn’t work as well as they used to when they were younger due to the physical tell all’s that adorned their faces, but it didn’t make the boys any less close together. If anything it made them stick together more. Age ten was also the age in which they were constantly bullied.

As the boys walked down the hallways books would be ripped from their hands or feet would be purposely stuck out in order for one to trip. When Edward fell and broke his glasses, Harry had decided that he had, had enough. Edward was angry, furious even, but because he could barely see he couldn’t do much about it. Harry, however, could and the anger that Edward felt radiated off of his twin in hot streams.

“Apologize!” Harry shouted at the much bigger boy, standing his ground though he was much shorter.

“For what?” The boy challenged in a much more condescending tone. He knew what he had done and he was proud of himself for it.

“Apologize to my brother or I’ll– I’ll...”

“You’ll what brace face?!”

“I’ll kick your ass!”

The crowd in the hallway ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ at the use of Harry’s language as he stood in between Edward and the boy who was much taller. Edward had since put his broken glasses in his pocket as he squinted, tugging at Harry’s arm to get him to walk away from the situation, but Harry wouldn’t budge.

Harry wasn’t prepared for what was to come. As the boy lifted his fist to connect it with Harry’s jaw he was cut short. Before any contact could be made, the boy who was much taller was seated forcefully on the ground holding his bloody nose in his hand, looking up at Edward.  Edward looked down on the bully while flexing his hand open and closed hoping that if he shook it hard enough the pain of breaking someone’s nose would go away.

Harry looked at his twin with shock in his eyes and a smile on his face as Ed continued to shake his hand while all three of the boys were escorted to the principal’s office.

“I thought you couldn’t see?” Harry whispered to his twin  in hopes of a quick explanation.

“I can’t see things that are far away, but that fucker, he was pretty close.”

Harry and Edward both began to laugh as they sat patiently in the principals office for their parents to collect them for their suspension from school.

•••••

15

Fifteen was the age of rebellion, girls, and more argument’s between the boys than usual. They had since grown into their faces and their own personalities and though they were still close, they didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. Harry had gotten into sports and school, while Edward had gotten into bands and trouble. The one thing that they did both agree on at the moment however was going to Tash Fraser's birthday party. Although she was two years their senior she had still sent the boys a personal invite. She was turning 17 and this of course would help boost their popularity for the year.

They were already high on the food chain at school for boys of only fifteen years old, and since they had grown into their faces and out of their braces and glasses, they had become rather attractive aside from the baby fat that they still had here and there.

“You ask.” Harry spoke, shoving Edward towards their parents room and grabbing the newspaper out of his hands, disturbing him from his place at the table as he read while flicking his brand new tongue ring against his teeth. Harry didn't care if Ed was angered by his rude interuption. He was older after all even if it was only by two minutes. Edward should do as he said.

“Why would I ask?! I just got off of punishment. I’ll be lucky if I can go anywhere. If I ask, dad will take one look at me and say no. No doubt I'll go anyway, but I'd rather do it without having to sneak. Leave me alone and give me my shit back! If you wanna go so bad you ask asshole!” Edward pushed his twin back, both of them equally aggravated by the other.

“We won’t be able to go anywhere if mum and dad hear you cussing! Fat chance on sneaking out with your big mouth!” Harry spoke aggressively above a whisper to his brother, making himself be heard.

Edward pulled his tongue ring between his teeth, playing with it and making Harry cringe before he nodded his head up and down in agreement.

“So what are we going to do?” Harry asked as if he were fresh out of ideas though he really didn’t bother to think of any.

“We’ll make them breakfast.” Edward spoke quickly, thinking on his toes much to Harry’s approval. And so they did, buttering their parents up with toast, pancakes, tomatoes, sausage, and bacon in order to get a simple, “alright” from their mother and father.

“You have to be home no later than one thirty!” Their mom reminded them as they headed out the door, riding with a mutual friend in order to make their way to the party.

“We’ll be home by twelve.” Harry yelled back jokingly earning a slap to the back of the head from his brother.

As the night went on, the music grew louder and the illegal activity had gotten more out of hand. Drinks of the alcoholic kind had been passed around, and though both Harry and Edward had one or two, neither of them dared to get drunk, knowing full well that their mother would be up waiting for them to get back.

“It’s one fifteen.” Harry spoke looking at his silver wrist watch that Edward had gotten him as a gift on their thirteenth birthday. “We should get ready to leave soon.”

Edward nodded his head in agreement as he looked around the crowded room for their friend. Hoping that he was sober enough to take them home. When he spotted him and told him that he was ready to go, their friend agreed to drive them even though Harry had notice the stumble in his step.

“Nuh uh, Edward. He’s drunk out of his mind.” Harry spoke to his twin, but was ignored as soon as the words left his lips.

“I can’t get in trouble again Harry. He’s fine we just live right up the street. It won’t take us long to get home. It’s fine.” Edward began to walk towards the car, but as soon as he took a step Harry pulled him back.

“Ed no! Why don’t you ever listen?!”

“Harry! If you want to stay here and get in trouble with dad because you’re not home in time then fine! Stay! I’ve just been freed and I’m not gonna be grounded again over something as stupid as this! I’ll see you when you get home.”

Harry let his brother go tired of arguing back and forth. There was no arguing with Ed and no point in trying to get him to think clearly when he had gotten an idea of his own.

Twenty more minutes passed before Harry had found a sober soul in the party who was willing to take him home. He hadn’t been drinking again, but he had the worst headache that he’d ever had in his life and it felt like it would split him clean in two if he didn’t get home and lie down. As they got in the car they traveled down the road only to see that it was blocked, a sudden panic started to set in. Harry’s head pounded worse and his mouth went dry and before the police got the chance to turn them in the opposite direction, Harry saw the car that Edward was in wrapped around a tree as if it were a flimsy piece of  aluminum foil.

•••••

20

Today Harry was twenty and though this was considered to be an age of a milestone in life, he didn’t celebrate it in the traditional way. Harry hadn’t celebrated any birthday since fifteen because he saw no point in it. Instead of throwing a party or hanging out with friends, every year since after his fifteenth birthday, Harry would go to the cemetery in Cheshire so that he could be close to his brother.

Today was a day of remembrance.

As Harry sat against the cold granite headstone that represented Edward, he thought of the time that they spent together while he was living. Harry was thankful that he was in a fairly secluded area because he would talk to Ed and tell him about the things that went on in his day and as he thought about his brother, he would laugh out loud when he would remember a prank that they pulled when they were younger, like when Harry dressed up as Edward for an hour at school just so that he could take his maths test for him. Their mum was so proud of Edward for passing with flying colors.

Or when Edward would run into Harry’s room and pretend to be him when they were supposed to be sleeping. Harry had a girlfriend at the time and would sneak out of his room at night to go see her, where they would make out under a tree. Harry realised that he had never thanked Ed for that so he did it now. A simple “thank you” left his lips before he fell silent and his eyes began to water. Because this was a day of remembrance, Harry would also remember the day that he lost his best friend.

Harry remembered the waiting.

Waiting in the oddly cold  room at the hospital with his mum and dad as doctors rushed about doing everything they could in order to save his brother.

Harry remembered the tears.

Tears that rolled down the faces of his family and himself as he rocked back and forth in his chair with with his hands clasped together tightly, saying a silent prayer that Ed would somehow walk out of the emergency room with maybe only a couple of stitches here and there.

Harry remembered the screams.

The deafening screams that came from his mother, his father, and himself when the doctor came out of the operating room and said that Edwards heart had given up and that his poor body was too weak to put up a fight.

Most of all, Harry remembered how he already knew that Edward was gone before the doctor came to announce it. His head had stopped hurting and his stomach was in knots, but he could no longer feel that strange connection that he and Edward shared since before he could remember and since age five, the age that he and Edward realized that they were identical.

Harry sat against Edward’s tombstone and allowed his tears to fall uninhibitedly, ridding himself of the pain that he felt everytime he thought about that fateful day. And though it hurt that he no longer had Edward around physically, he wasn’t sad anymore because he knew that he was there in spirit. The feeling that Harry felt was more overwhelming  because everytime he thought about it, he could barely believe it.

He never thought it would be true that he would have to live a day without his best friend, his brother, his twin.