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nickfowlerrr · 2 years

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Hey girl! For by drabble request, it would be for pwyc!bucky with the #4 gift giving scenario, and Dialogues #5, #11, #17, and #21. Thanks!

thank you so much for sending this in! it did not go how i expected but hopefully you enjoy it 👀

gifts 🎄

pretty when you cry series masterlist

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: none? this blog is 18+ only.

words: 1.5k

notes: i hope you all enjoy - not sure how i’m feeling about this one 🫣. haven’t decided if this will be canon or not yet.. let me know what you guys think! also steve’s girl has a name now so there’s that lol

Driving back from Eva’s Christmas party, you were inspecting the white elephant gift you had chosen with a quirked brow as you sat in the passenger seat.

“Do people even use nutcrackers? Or are these things just for decoration?” you wondered aloud as you played with the little lever that moved the nutcracker’s mouth.

“I’m sure someone somewhere still uses them to crack nuts,” Bucky responded, mainly to humor you.

“Humph.”

“What?” he asked, stealing a glance at you as he drove.

“Nothing. It’s just.. This thing is kinda creepy, don’t you think?” you cringed.

“I wasn’t gonna mention it, but yeah,” he chuckled, “it is.”

“Would it be rude to regift it?”

“To who?”

“I don’t know.. Or maybe I could just drop it off at one of those donation places,” you mused.

“No, we should regift it,” Bucky smiled deviously. “I know exactly who to give it to.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was planning on gifting it as his Secret Santa gift to Sam. Steve’s girl, Rosalie, was like the real life embodiment of the Christmas Spirit. She had decked the shop out completely the moment she got the go ahead from Steve and managed to get everyone to agree to doing Secret Santa this year. Bucky had previously refused but after Rose wouldn’t stop pestering you to pester him, you finally just agreed on his behalf and sort of forced him into it. He was going to call Steve and get him to take his name out of the mix, but it didn’t take much bribing from you to get him to just go with it.

“You have to play by the rules, Buck,” you admonished.

“How am I breaking the rules?”

“You have to buy him something, something he’d actually like,”

“Who says I can’t give him two gifts?” he challenged. You didn’t respond to that with anything other than a scoff and another roll of your eyes.

“Are we still going shopping tomorrow?” he asked.

“If we must,” you groaned.

“I can’t believe the girl who forced me to decorate the house just weeks ago is the same girl who hates going Christmas shopping,” he taunted.

“Shopping is very different from decorating. Decorating includes pretty lights and soft christmas music and cookies and cocoa and a soft ambiance in the comfort and privacy of your own home. Shopping includes big crowds, dumb people who don’t know how to walk properly in public, loud music, and those annoying perfume samplers who are like everywhere all at once,” you complained, already not looking forward to tomorrow. “I hate Christmas shopping,” you grumble.

“I love Christmas shopping,” he said.

“You love shopping, period. And if you keep buying everything you see, I’m not gonna have anything to give you.”

“You don’t have to get me anything, sweetheart. You are my gift,”

“Always so sappy,” you teased. “Plus, you can’t say that when you’ve already crowded the space beneath the tree full of gifts for me,” you sighed. Bucky put his hand on your knee, squeezing you lightly.

“If I’m being honest, half of them are for me,” he smirked, moving his hand to slide further up your dress and along your thigh. You moved his hand back to your knee, giving him a side eye.

“We’re like five minutes away - you think you can manage keeping your hands to yourself until we get home?” you asked, almost condescendingly.

“I’ve been working all night to keep ‘em to myself, angel. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” he simpered as you watched the speedometer tick up to 75.

“Well let’s try for five and we’ll see how things go from there,” you replied with a light smirk.

“I think you and I both know how things are gonna go,” he grinned.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week later and Christmas Eve finally arrived and you found yourself at the shop, surrounded by many familiar faces. As you were talking with Loki, Rosalie began ringing a little christmas bell to get everyone’s attention.

“Secret Santa time!,” her melodic voice sang from across the room.

“This should be entertaining,” Loki mused before he moved to join the growing circle Rose had organized.

You were a little worried about the gift you had gotten Wanda, but there wasn’t anything you could do now but hoped she liked it. As you approached the group, you took your seat next to Bucky, whose arm was already around it, as he spoke to Steve who was sitting on the other side of him.

After giving her little speech, Rosalie started off the gift exchange by handing her gift to Thor. Thor welcomed her gift readily and handed his gift to Yelena. Yelena had Steve, Steve had Clint, Clint had Loki, Loki had Kate, and so on and so on until it was Peter’s turn to give his gift to Bucky. Then it went from Bucky to Sam to Scott, who handed his gift to you with a smile. When everybody finally had their gift, Rosalie instructed everyone to open them.

Peter had gifted Bucky a nice set of whiskey glasses with an expensive bottle of whiskey to go with them.

You unwrapped your gift carefully as Scott looked on, looking more excited to watch you open it than he was to open his. Under the wrapping paper you found a gift set from your favorite beauty brand and a box of assorted See’s candies under it.

“This is perfect, Scott,” you smiled sincerely, getting up to hug him as you spoke. “Thank you so much!”

“I knew you’d like it! I mean, it was what you wrote on your paper, so duh, but still. I’m - I’m glad you like it,” he smiled his signature smile.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party continued well past midnight and you and Bucky got home a little after two in the morning. As you tried to head upstairs to get ready for bed, Bucky stopped you and instead directed you to sit on the couch by the tree.

“I thought we were gonna do gifts in the morning,” you said skeptically as Bucky bent down to search through the abundance of gifts sitting under the tree.

“It technically is morning,” he pointed out. “I want to give you your main gift right now.”

“Well, wait. I want to give you yours first,” you argued. You knew you were going to be shown up gift wise either way, but you figured you’d feel less bad if he opened his first.

“Doll -,”

“Please,” you said softly.

“Okay,” he conceded.

You got to your knees and looked for the box that held his ‘biggest’ gift.

He looked a little skeptical at the long thin box you handed him, but opened it anyway.

You were holding your breath as you watched him, still not sure how you even felt about it.

He opened it then looked up from the box, almost stunned, watching like he was waiting for you to say sike.

You just nervously bit your lip before looking down at the box yourself.

“Tickets,” he said. You nodded slowly.

“You know my sister lives here,” he said as he gestured to the plane tickets you had printed out.

“Yeah.. I, uh, I figured..if you still wanted us to meet, we could g-” your trepidatious explanation was interrupted by Bucky’s lips crashing into yours as he grabbed hold of your face.

“This is the best gift you could’ve given me,” he smiled. “You’ve really made my Christmas this year.”

You didn’t say anything, still fighting your anxiety at the thought of meeting anyone from Bucky’s family, and instead forced a smile. You knew he could feel your nerves, but he didn’t call you out on it. He took your hands in his and squeezed gently, leaning his head against yours for a moment before he pulled away and went back to looking for your gift.

He pulled out a small wrapped box and turned to you as you both sat kneeling in front of one another. He gently pushed you back so you were sitting completely on your heels. Your name leaving his lips, the first time in a while he’d actually used it, immediately had your undivided attention.

“Sweetheart. You know I love you. You know you’re my everything, and you know I’d do anything for you. You’re my soulmate, nothing could ever change that. We belong together. You’re mine,” he emphasized as he gently caressed your cheek. “Forever.” He pulled away only slightly to open the little box he held in his hand. You felt like you couldn’t breath as you stared at it, just blinking while he snapped open the lid. Suddenly, with the smallest movement of his hand, gleaming right at you was the most stunning diamond ring you’d ever seen. “You and I both know that. But I wanna make sure everybody else does, too.”

There was silence between you as you continued staring in shock at the ring he held. “Whadaya say, pretty girl?” he asked, finally getting you to break away from the ring and meet his eye again with the gentle nudge of his fingers along your chin, all the while you were trying to gain control of your breathing. “Marry me?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes fluff #soft!dark bucky barnes #soft!dark bucky #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky x reader #pwyc series #christmas drabbles

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vee-crytraps · 6 months

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Kiss Me More | Ch 4-5 | {Ornament}

AN: Last part!

{Trigger warning/Themes Masterlist} First | Previous | Next |

“Fuck,” You pull away, reaching towards your ears. The once cold sting of the gold bracelet on your wrist was also absent. “You know what? Well played. I can’t even be mad.” “Welcome to the club.” Bruce chuckles, pulling you into your dance once more. "I'll have them replaced." During the silence that follows, you manage something else to say. “I think it’s cool,” You blurt out. Bruce simply raises an eyebrow at you, and you quickly backpedal. “No! No, not the…Selina stuff. Though you have to admit-" Bruce cuts you off with your name. “I mean the rail. And making the busses run for free was a complete stroke of genius. Everyone who really needs it can get a reliable ride to work, and all the uptown types who are terrified of poor people pay to take the nice new rail, which funds the busses-“ “I can do a little bit without the mask,” Bruce interjects, mirth in his voice.

It’s fucking genuine, and it makes you smile. “I’m proud of you, you know.” He continues, though he looks a little uncomfortable saying it. “I’ve always been proud. I know we don’t spend much time together, but-" “I understand,” you say, strictly out of politeness. It’s true and it’s not. You don’t want him to be too busy for you, and you don’t love being excluded from the ‘family business’. You just want time with him, the man your mother admired so much that she trusted you with him even knowing about the cape and cowl. “Just like…thanks. For taking me in and stuff. I know we've been having a lot of disagreements lately, and you have a lot going on, but I appreciate you looking after me-” “You’re my daughter.” Bruce says, with no hesitation. “You don’t need to give me some big speech. I don’t know what in the world compelled your mother to trust you with me, but I’m glad that she did.” “Well, she was hardly ever in her right mind,” you joke, and it makes Bruce crack a smile. “Everyone thought the whole funeral-of-the-century thing was totally nuts.” “Everyone who didn’t know her like we did,” Bruce assures you. “I think she was onto something. It was…a good last memory. “ There was a question you had that hung in the air. Once that you’d never had the courage to ask. So you let it end there. You may never really know what the inside of Bruce's head looked like. And if you were honest, you didn't really need to know. At the end of the day, you were content with what you had-the promise of a dead woman who loved you, and her reclusive billionaire best friend.

“Chelsea Conroy left a bloodied rabbits foot in my locker today. On one hand, I can’t really blame her. I mean, really. Everyone’s gone mad ever since I rocked up to dance on the arm of Bruce Wayne. He may be kind of a serious guy, but even I'll admit that he's hot enough to drive anyone crazy. On the other hand, it wasn’t like the paw of a squirrel or a raccoon or some kind of local bird she found crushed on the side of the road. I mean, it was a nice rabbit. White fur and everything. Jesus, I hope she didn’t buy a rabbit just to pull some sort of Godfather jr. shit on me. I wouldn’t put it past her, though. I’m a girls girl, but Chelsea is a D1 hater. And apparently an animal dismember-er. I wish my parents had just sent me to public school instead. These rich kids are serial killers in the making, and if Bruce doesn’t stop hanging around with his handsome face, I can’t be sure I’ll even make it to graduation. I told Bruce to let it go. He's stubborn as an ox, but I'm worse. He offered to help me bury the poor thing afterschool. There's family cemetery behind his manor, with a small section for pets. He said we could name the rabbit posthumously, even if we don’t have the whole body. I’m going to take him up on his offer. It's so fucking weird, but also? So…thoughtful.”- 12.03.2001

#v.fic #Kiss Me More

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enquiringangel · 11 months

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Thank you @marypsue for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Just 16 currently. I orphaned a bunch a while back.

2. What’s your total word count?

72,719.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently The Lost Boys has me in a gorilla grip, but I have written for Naruto and also some other fandoms for works now deleted/orphaned like Devil May Cry, Black Butler and oldest of all, Harry Potter.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos.

6. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, more often than not. Sometimes I feel like I reply excessively. Almost like the reverse of someone who doesn’t want to bother a creator by commenting on their stuff, haha.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Phantasmagoria.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have not, but I tend to write short things and stick to my own corner so that probably helps.

9. Do you write smut?

I’m an ace person who finds sex absurd and vaguely comical 80% of the time so I always feel like a fraud, but yes.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I have done! I enjoy crossovers, especially when they really work and the worlds blend together seamlessly.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, though recently I had a case where someone uploaded a fic with the same premise as mine right after I uploaded mine. It had some oddly similar scenes and phrases scattered throughout, and it updated mere hours after I did. It wasn’t out and out plagiarism and could have been a coincidence, so I overlooked it aside from an author’s note on my next update saying to cut that shit out. So far it seems to have worked.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep. A few into Russian and one in Chinese. It’s always deeply flattering to be asked.

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

Nope and I think I would be terrible to work with, honestly. I am that guy in the group project who drives everyone nuts by not meeting deadlines.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

…I have to pick? This is not fair. Each fandom has one.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I am optimistic I will finish all of them…eventually.

16. What are your writing strengths?

This is oddly specific but I enjoy writing macabre stuff and have somewhat black humour (comes from working in a vet-adjacent profession) and I think that can come across in some of my stuff. I feel like I am good with characterisation. Also, dialogue I think.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Being confident in my own writing. Not leaving characters floating in white voids. Abusing italics, em-dashes and semicolons. PLOT.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I tend to avoid this unless the POV character doesn’t know what’s being said. But I see no point in having “Dialogue in another language [brackets or italics explaining what’s just been said].”

19. First fandom you wrote for?

HP.

20. Favourite fanfic you’ve ever written?

Probably and the moon was hungry out of my Naruto stuff.

But currently obsessed with my Lost Boys w.i.ps.

Tagging @themarginalthinker @makkoskafanfic and @drowningindango

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renee-writer · 2 years

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Baby Girl Chapter 20

AO3

They go out that night before another case makes it impossible. She is nervous, having dated very little. Her focus was on her education and then work. Now to be going out with someone from work, it has her stomach tied up in nuts.

What to wear? She stands in front of her closet scanning through her available items. Nothing feels right. Finally she chooses a little black dress. You can’t go wrong with that, right?

Minimal make up, her hair casually pulled back, she is ready. The door bell rings and her heart jumps. “Come one Beauchamp. It is Jamie. Your mate. You can do this.” She tells herself as she sooths down the dress and walks over to the door. She opens it.

He, dressed in a button down off white shirt and jeans, stands holding flowers. Handing them to her, his eyes roam, taking in her long legs, previously unseen bare in all their glory. “Hey Claire. You look stunning. A real knockout.”

She blushes as she takes the bouquet. “Thank you and thank you for the flowers. They are beautiful.” She hurries to place them in water.

“I feel overdressed.”

Another blush. “ I wasn’t sure what to wear. Little black dresses are always appropriate, I thought?” Her teeth work her bottom lip as she worries.

“Oh no, you are right. Your dressed wonderfully.” He offers his arm and she takes it. They walk towards his car. “My lady.” Said as he opens the door. She smiles and slips in. Closing her door and the wonderful clean and somewhat green smell of her perfume in. Walking around, he finds she has reached out and opened his too.

“Manners, eh?” She grins at him. He returns it.

*Indeed.”

They make a point not to talk shop as they drive to the restaurant. Instead, they discuss the other members of the team.

“Exactly how smart is John?”

“Oh he is a certified genius. Has a perfect memory. Everything he sees, reads, hears, experiences, he recalls. “

“A blessing and a curse in…”

“Aye. Being the youngest doesn’t help either.”

She rests her head on her hand and looks over at him. *Who is the oldest?”

“Murtagh .” he laughs, “He is nicknamed ‘Godfather’ because he makes it his mission to look after everyone.”

“Sweet.”

They pull up in front of a cute little restaurant. He comes around and opens her door and offers his arm again. With a brilliant smile, she takes it. They walk in.

Sitting across from her, orders taken, he asks, “So tell me about yourself, your family.”

“I am an only child. My dad has one brother, my darling Uncle Lamb. “

“Lamb?” he raises his eyebrows.

“Quinton Lambert. He goes by Lamb. He is the man who has raised me since I was five and my parents passed in a auto accident.” She says it without a break in her voice. He knows she has reached a stage of acceptance. Still, he lays his hand over hers.

“I am sorry.”

“Thank you. I was blessed to have Uncle Lamb. He was father and mother, best friend and counselor. He took me in without a word about how it would disrupt his life. He was a archeologist when I came to him. He became a professor so I could have stability.”

“Sounds like a wonderful man.”

“He is. Your turn. Tell me about your kin.”

He smiles. “How many generations back?”

Her eyes roll. “Your parents will do.”

He settles back in his seat, preparing to tell a tale. She grins in anticipation. “My parents meet when they were in upper school. She was a Mackenzie and her parents had no love for the Fraser’s …Well, she snuck out the window and into his car…They we’re married before her parents discovered her missing. William was born nine months later. Janet, who everyone calls Jenny, three years after him. Myself three years later.”

She is fascinated by the story. “Did your maternal grandparents ever forgive them?”

“Aye. With Willie ‘s birth. Nothing like a grandchild to thaw cold hearts.” Their meals were served during his story. They take a few minutes to eat.

“It is just Uncle Lamb and I and you have such a large family.”

“Aye, let’s see there is Willie and his wife, Rose. They have two children, Brian, after my dad and Violet to go with Rose. Jenny and Ian have, Wee Jamie, Maggie, and the twins, Janet and Michael.”

“Wow!”

“I am the only one not married with children. Jenny frets about it but my mam, Ellen, she tells her to let me be. That the right one will come and then I will settle down.”

She grins over the last of her fish and chips. “Been a bit wild, have you?”

Now with the blokes he would answer that differently. But with her, honesty wins out. “No, only two serious girlfriends. One in uni and one a few years back.”

“Two. That isn’t bad.”

“Not at all. My sister considers me unsettled until I get married. “They share a laugh. “How about you?”

A flush and her head goes down. She debated how to answer this question. “None.” Honesty wins.

His blue eyes, almost indigo in the candle light, grow huge.

“None?” She shakes her head.

“No I was a socially awkward teen and young adult. Then my career consumed my time.” She shakes her head again. “That is true but not completely. I wanted someone as giving and understanding as Uncle Lamb. It couldn’t be just anyone.”

“I think that is wonderful. To be so sure of who you want.” He draws closer across the table. Both their breaths still. She sees the gold that runs through the red in his hair. He sees the same in the brown of her eyes. They sparkle like whiskey. A second and then…

Both their phones ring at the same time. “Blast it!” he mutters. It is Murtagh. They have a case.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #baby girl #chapter 20 #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #modern au

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theliterateape · 1 year

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Delicious Ambiguity

by Don Hall

"In a world full of people who seem to know everything, passionately, based on little (often slanted) information, where certainty is often mistaken for power, what a relief it is to be in the company of someone confident enough to stay unsure (that is, perpetually curious)." —George Saunders

In Big Trouble in Little China Jack Burton (portrayed like a John Wayne knock-off with perfect pitch by the estimable Kurt Russell) blows off his love interest in the movie with the throw-away line—"Eventually, I rub everybody the wrong way." While I've seen that film dozens of times the line didn't land for me until this year.

Recently on a FaceTime call with a good, long-term friend, I can see he is struggling with my approach to the world as well as my almost unceasing questioning of the basic tenets of his belief system. To be fair to him, it isn't his belief system I have issue with—I have issue with everyone's sense of moral certainty. I come across as being completely confident in my own contrarian nature and when someone—anyone—tosses out a black and white perspective of the world, an obvious good vs. evil view, I'm going to dissect and interrogate it.

While I've always been my own version of the devil's advocate, I wasn't always so uncertain. I used to think in terms of right and wrong, good and evil. Even then I would come across as completely convinced of why I was right. At some point that started to shift as the things I saw as definitively righteous fell by the wayside and I became less and less certain of the structures presented that grounds society into a conforming and functioning body. The form of communication stayed the same but the focus changed. I prosecute certainty because I am so uncertain.

Eventually, I rub everyone the wrong way.

On a recent Literate ApeCast, David opens with something that should be easy. The young, black legislators in Tennessee are removed from office by a predominantly white GOP. David lobs up the softball for me to immediately go with the standard response. It's racist. Of course it is. Except, is it? I want to look up under the hood of the assumption and wonder what else might be in play. Was it simply racism or maybe a little bit the responsibility of the Dems to perhaps not disrupt the body with bullhorns, shouting down the opposing view on gun control? Might the response be in part the fault of the new normal of, instead of working with people and using discussion and incremental change to move the needle towards progress, screaming down ideas we disagree with like children having a tantrum?

"Am I tone policing? You're goddamned right I'm tone policing."

This sort of response drives David nuts but we've been dancing to this tune for a while so he knows what's coming almost every time. He understands (I think) that I'm trying out the argument to see how it lands, to see how I feel about it, to parse out what I'm willing to believe in the face of the certainty of others.

I want to believe. It is so much easier to believe than to constantly try to crack into the certainty presented and find the flaws. Believing is far easier than facing the chaos and instability of things and finding any kind of foothold. I just can't bring myself to do it.

On the FaceTime call my buddy is struggling. I know he loves me and I him but he's having a problem with my lack of conviction on things he sees as obvious certainties. He wants to dismiss me as a rightwing dipshit but he knows I'm a die-hard liberal. He believes I'm a good person but my questioning of his most sacred beliefs makes him doubt that belief.

My immediate question is "Am I a good person? I mean, really? What are the hallmarks of a good person as opposed to a bad person as opposed to just a person with some good and bad?"

I think a part of this contrarian approach comes from the fact that I was raised to believe I was special. Unique. Over time and especially in the past twenty years that notion has been disavowed. I'm certainly no villain but I have done selfish things, cruel acts, and broken hearts along the way. I've also done selfless things, assisted people, and acted in ways that would support the good person theory. I am not special—I'm completely ordinary— and with that realization and deep looks into the behavior of others I believed were special I find that we are all just apes who learned to read. We all are a duality of mensch and asshole. We are all human and humanity, over history, has the capacity to enslave some and liberate others, stand on our convictions of truth and lie like thieves. We are all certain we are the good guy in our story but that can't possibly be true.

A buddy from my early days in Chicago texts me out of the blue. "Your book is being delivered today. Good timing as my wife asked me last night for a divorce because she's decided she's a lesbian."

I immediately call him. This will be his second marriage and second divorce and he tells me that all he has ever wanted was a true love, a loyal partner, a family. I can relate. I've spent most of my conscious life seeking out that unconditional love with the belief of a zealot that such a thing exists. After three marriages, three divorces, and countless girlfriends I have to come to the conclusion that either the concept of unconditional love is a fiction we tell ourselves to be able to get up in the morning without sticking a pistol in our mouths or that I am simply unloveable in a fundamental way and, while that unassailable love exists, it does not for me. Not fond of the taste of gunpowder, I choose to interrogate the certainty of the former while still wondering about the latter.

"As soon as someone insists something is a moral imperative, I instantly begin questioning it," I tell my buddy on FaceTime. "Moral certainty on a planet designed for chaos and uncertainty is a cul de sac from which there is no escape."

"What do you believe? In nothing? What changes your mind?"

"I used to be a rampant homophobe. I was fully invested in the belief that it was wrong. Turned out I was wrong on a monumental degree. No one convinced me to change my mind but experiences and curiosity about that toxic belief I held in college lead me to see it differently. What changed my mind was the very thing that's driving you nuts—constant questioning about any certainty and wondering constantly about whether I'm wrong."

BTW—this writing is all a paraphrase. I guarantee I wasn't as articulate in real time but, hey, I'm writing it so I will always seem more reasonable in the re-telling.

I'm not a nihilist because nihilism is just a certainty that nothing has meaning or matters. I'm not an atheist because I'm certain there is a god but because I'm uncertain if there is one and what if I'm wrong?

The closest thing I'm certain of in my life (aside that nothing is certain) is a universal belief in freedom of choice as long as those choices don't hurt anyone. Who am I to tell anyone else how to navigate their own lives? Who are you? Who are any of us to dictate how people live their lives as long as no one else is harmed in the process?

My oldest friend (in that he is both old and been my friend for the longest amount of time) merely avoids conversations with me about politics or society altogether. Once in a while, I get a bug up my ass and jump in and force the issue but, for the most part, we talk about the things we're doing, the art we consume, and how we feel about being straight white dudes in a world that has decided we've had our time and need to move aside. I suspect he's a bit embarrassed by me as I rubbed a few too many people the wrong way back in the day but I love him, he loves me, and we know how to dance to that tune just fine.

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity. ” — Gilda Radner

I find that living in a state of uncertainty is a more optimistic path. I don't know for certain that if I cross a street I won't be run over by a car but I choose to cross anyway. I'm not certain that I won’t choke to death on a piece of delicious cheese but I choose to eat it far too many times for my waistline. I’m completely and overwhelmingly uncertain of any prospects for romance ever again but I’ll likely choose to date at some point in the future despite all indications that it will go badly for me.

Buying a house anywhere in the Midwest or on one of the coasts is an uncertain risk as the climate pummels the planet and burns, floods, or uproots homes all across America. It takes a true optimist to go through all the financial hassle in the face of that uncertainty but it is an act of hope to do so.

Having a child in a society that values both mothers and children so callously is an act of defiance against the uncertainty of humanity but people choose to procreate nonetheless.

My family is certain that I believe I know everything. I get it. I’m obnoxious that way. It’s why, if I say something that might be wrong, my mom immediately fact-checks. I’m wrong about half the time about most things. I certainly sound like a know-it-all but the exact opposite is true. I’m uncertain about just about everything and my way of refining that into a semblance of capable predictability is to argue the point, challenge any certainty I encounter, and continue to find something resembling concrete ground.

Eventually, I rub everyone the wrong way.

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artemiseamoon · 2 years

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People who look like me in fantasy is a win!

#I love to see it #as a huge fantasy fan #everyone always being white drives me nuts #I’m eating this all up and having seconds #more please #melanin dressed in gold #like fucking royality #👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾#hotd #house of the dragon #spoilers #house velaryon

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calavanda · 2 years

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I've already ranted on Twitter about how much I yearned for more Hawks and Deku interactions... Yeah, I'mma copy and paste that for here too because I'm bored and thinking about them makes me happy-

Also, as I'm typing this, Tumblr is showing me that there are huge gaps between paragraphs and I'm hoping it goes away when I post this cuz I can't fix it and it's driving me nuts-

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I wanna talk about how I wish I had more moments between Deku & Hawks. Even tho they don't share that many similarities compared to other characters that relate to them separately, I feel like these two still share something while also being different.

Hawks and Deku, to me, are two major examples of the next generation of heroes. They both have different ways of tackling situations while at the same time having similar goals where they just want to help people and be able to smile with everyone else. Both of them are willing to sacrifice their mind and body for the greater good.

Hawks did so by becoming a hero for the Commission and despite knowing the truth of society, the truth of his role, he doesn't escape because of his dream. Hawks is more aware than anyone that their society is dependent on dependency; that they need heroes and villains. That the system functions by being broken. What's worse is that he may not even know how to fix society without breaking it from what it's always known. But he doesn't do anything about it because of how dependent he is himself on the Commission. They made him who he is. As selfless as he can be, he can't help but be selfish about that until the Commission falls from its own failures. It isn't until the Commission is, well, out of commission that Hawks can finally do something for himself and for others. The way he wants.

On the other hand, Deku has grown up in this society as an audience member; he was a quirkless kid until he met All Might. It's clear that even since Deku gained OFA, his views on heroes have shifted due to all the crazy crap this kid has gone through. It's because of these experiences that even his goal has changed from "saving people with a smile on my face" to "saving people with a smile and have nobody worry about him." Sounds similar to Hawks wanting "to create a world where people have too much time on their hands." A world where nobody has to worry.

But despite all this, his idea of a hero doesn't change. That idea follows him during and after the war, most from Shigaraki's words about society rejecting him and how it's treated those who follow him, which are words targeted towards him and the heroes he admires by someone deemed a villain. Seeing heroes step down after society unleashed anger and fear upon them was something he took note of, but it wasn't until Deku's encounter with Lady Nagant that Deku starts to see the truth of society even more. But despite now having an insight of just how toxic their society truly was, that doesn't hold him back from wanting to reach out to people, hero or villain. He realizes it's not just black and white. And now his motivation grows to help, just like Hawks. And just like how Hawks sacrificed his sense of self for the greater good by being a pawn, Deku sacrifices his self worth and well being for the greater good, but unlike Hawks, has a more open heart and mind to everyone. Hawks may have offered Twice a hand, but it's clear that his mind and heart isn't so open to everyone. Twice was a different case because he unintentionally grew on Hawks, forming an actual bond. In the end, though, he stuck to his training and is probably more hesitant than ever to do something like that again.

Anyways, Hawks and Deku share the same mindset about their own worth as a human being and despite the Commission being down, despite 1-A still reaching out a hand to Deku, they both still struggle a bit with whether or not they should value themselves that way. Both of them are a part of a team to "bring everything back", but it's clear they don't want things to go back to the way they were. They want to continue to chase their goals of helping everyone and making a peaceful world. Sure as hell ain't gonna be easy though. Their current society is very broken and, as Nagant said, will continue to hurt those behind the scenes if they bring back the status quo. I think we all hope that these two, among many others, will discover ways to rebuild society.

And for a couple small but obvious similarities:

・Having a Pro Hero give them indirect hope just to get through their childhood

・Actually got a glimpse of villains being real people

・Befriended a guy with prehistoric behavior but can also be calm and intelligent-

・Smart as fuck like wh-

・Somehow have a tolerance for pain (how tf are Deku and Hawks still alive fr-)

・Truthfully dedicated and optimistic (to a fault ;>)

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#hawks and deku sibling energy #hawks and deku #Hawks and Midoriya #izuku midoriya #keigo takami #hawks bnha #wing hero hawks #bnha deku #my hero academia #bnha #Mha #mha tangent

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afro-elf · 4 years

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fine, i’ll elaborate on my thoughts about tylor sift but they will be disorganized

disclaimer: i know a few people will read this and be like “op is a hozier fan can she really talk about the cultural obsession with mediocre white art?” and the answer is yes because a) i’m black and i have an english degree so can do whatever i fucking want, b) hozier is a better artist than taylor objectively, like his mediocre tracks would be considered her great ones, and c) the comparison of taylor to hozier is part of the problem Genuinely because i don’t even think white people like half the music they listen to, they just don’t wanna be left behind, we’ll get into this later. i’m sorry to everyone who is tired of hearing about him but hozier will be returning later in this post jsfglsjlgldsjlfd

second note: read this

i don’t just dislike taylor because she’s white. i don’t dislike taylor because she’s a woman. i don’t dislike her because she writes mean and petty lyrics about past relationships and people who wronged her. i don’t dislike taylor because her public circle of friends is almost exclusively blonde white celebrities with their own laundry lists of issues that includes ryan reynolds and blake lively who are poster children for white privilege and pseudo-excellence if i’ve ever seen them. i dislike taylor because the amalgamation of all of those things is so exemplary of a huge problem i have with the music industry in general but also like american society

fuck it, numbered list!

1. taylor swift consistently releases the same mediocre album but in different colors. every album is the same lyrically and tonally. her body of work rarely goes very far above “good for taylor swift”. folklore as both title and musical aesthetic is irrelevant to the actual content of the album, which is just every taylor swift album except set to folk pop and with a bit more cussing, congrats for baby’s first swear. i’ve seen folklore compared to much better bodies of work and even propped up by stans as album of the year, a distinction that rina sawayama and chloe x halle will be battling it out for if there is any justice in the world at all. the fact that she is allowed to do this and still be considered great when this is something that even white male artists are butchered critically for... astounds me. like we all know how well received all of coldplay’s similar sounding albums are.... Come on.

2. i don’t think taylor or her work is particularly feminist and yet for some reason every time she frowns an army of white women brings her kleenex. i’m not saying taylor’s anger has always been unjustified, but her feminism to me has always felt like “i can do whatever a man can do” feminism, which is utterly fucking useless to me as a black woman. it’s only useful to her because as a wealthy, white, straight, cis white woman her ONLY obstacle in life is her gender. and if she just didn’t have that tricky little bitch then maybe people would take her seriously. like, just think about her music video for the man... what was the thesis of that? what was the point of that? with all of her privileges she’d just be gaining a single extra privilege. she’s a blonde blue eyed thin white girl, the world kisses her feet. i have no interest in proving myself any better or any worse than white men, they are not the standard for how a person should be treated, they’re cautionary tales, and white women are too. i think taylor capitalizes off of white woman victimhood, and it’s all over her writing style. even when she’s trying to be empowered, like in mad woman for example, there is this tone to it of victimization, poking the bear, unleashing the beast if you will. she invokes the imagery of salem witches and even more boldly chooses a noose to write about in the song which is..... surely going to be a white tumblr staple for many gifsets to come but holy shit is it hollow. she also tends to come back to teenage memories in her music and she’s thirty. i don’t think about being seventeen unless i’m being held at gunpoint but she seems to think about it All The Time. and part of this is to keep herself young, at least in her music, which only further ingrains this image of fragile teeny bopper taylor into the mind of the listener, fueling her victim image. this imagery and language means nothing because the world always rallies around taylor. even when she was the butt of jokes for not being beyonce (which she is not and never can be) and writing about her exes (which she does), she was largely supported by the industry and by critics. look at how many fucking awards she has!

3. folk and indie and alternative music is in a moment of transition, where musicians of color are getting the chance to really speak about how they’ve been treated in these overwhelmingly white circles and create their own standards and their own voices. and for taylor swift to swoop in with aaron dessner and jack antonoff fantano and almost reassert that mid-2010s indie sound as The Sound of folk pop in the popular consciousness.... it makes me violent! it! makes! me! violent!

4. back to hozier! finally, i wanna talk about white standom, fandom, bandom, and womandom. i often see these very superficial comparisons between hozier and taylor (and hozier and florence and hozier and stevie nicks and hozier and whatever other white woman in fashion) and they frustrate me for more than one reason. i know that hozier has met taylor and said she’s cool, which is nice of him and he’s a nice man, but i’m not a nice man so i’m going to just say it: none of the people who have made those posts have listened to more than four hozier songs and it shows. the reason why this matters is because these posts catch on and create an image and preconception of hozier’s music that is divorced from reality and divorced from his influences and most importantly divorced from the deliberate and reverent blackness of his musical style. hozier has his white male privilege in the industry for sure but he’s not as towering of a giant as taylor and taylor’s music is an unsalted chicken, plain oatmeal, white paint drying on a white wall, a stick of unflavored gum. her music is so white it told me that its dad is a cop. i am, as a black hozier fan, exhausted with having to share space with white women who don’t know why hozier’s music kicks me in my lungs sometimes and think that taylor mentioning a tree ONCE in her 3 minute acoustic guitar slog about whatever suburb is the same when it simply is not. i swear some of you are pretending to love taylor because your friends love her and you don’t wanna be left out of the hot new musical discourse but she’s only the hot new musical discourse CONSTANTLY because she’s a white woman, she’s almost the Perfect white woman. like if someone asked me to describe a white woman, it would be taylor swift. her position at the top of the musical pyramid among people who eclipse her musically, vocally, and lyrically is only allowed because she’s The Perfect White Woman. she’s an ideal. white girls relate to her immediately because of it and now we have this unshakable mob of unbearable white women who think that the world has wronged someone who literally wrote fanfiction about the rich oil heiress white woman who owned her rhode island mansion before her aklghlghdhlgs it drives me fucking NUTS

anyway that’s all. if you made it this far, listen to adia victoria, kaia kater, samantha crain, valerie june, kelsey lu, corinne bailey rae, brittany howard, kimya dawson, japanese breakfast, cold specks, left at london, rhiannon giddens, aisha badru, shea diamond, nadine shah, xenia rubinos, karen o, mirel wagner.... Anyone

#me #taylor swift meanie hour #long post

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middleearthpixie · 2 years

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Miss Fortune ~ Chapter Thirty-One

Miss Fortune - Modern AU

A/N: I'm sorry for how long it's taken for an update to this fic (if anyone is still even reading it, tbh, 🤣) but I hit a snag with writer's block with this particular story, had my muse sneak up on me with After the Fire, and I started grad school two weeks ago, so I don't have quite the same amount of free time. But, this story isn't over just yet, so thank you for hanging in there and please be patient. There will be updates, I just don't know how sporadic they'll be.

Summary: Everyone in Cranford Falls knows the Prescott family. Not only do they run Miss Fortune’s Crystal occult shop in town, but they’re also known for their psychic abilities. On occasion, they’re even called into service to assist the police on particularly difficult cases. All except Alex Prescott, that is. Unlike her three sisters, she’s inherited none of her family’s gifts. At least that was what she thought until the day the dead guy showed up in her bedroom asking for her help in solving a murder. His own.

Six months after his brother Frerin’s death, Detective Thorin Durin is on a downward spiral of self-destruction until Frerin starts showing up in his apartment, claiming his death was not an unfortunate accident but was, in fact a murder. Trouble is, Frerin doesn’t know who did it, so he wants Thorin to reopen the case and solve it, with Alex’s help.

As they work together to find out just exactly what happened to Frerin, Alex and Thorin grow closer. Neither one knows it, but Frerin isn’t just looking to solve his own murder, he’s trying to help his brother cope with his loss as well, and to find happiness with the Prescott sister who’s known as the quiet one…

Summary: Alex confessed to Thorin how she tried to get his attention back in high school, only to have not go quite as planned…

Pairing: Modern!Thorin x ofc Alex Prescott

Characters: Thorin, Alex, Alanis Durin,

Warnings: Oral Sex (f receiving), unprotected sex

Rating: M

Word Count: 4,741

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

The sun streaming in through the windows along the far wall woke Alex. She lifted her head, blinking sleep from her eyes before turning toward the clock on the bookshelf. Quarter to eight.

Thorin was sound asleep beside her on his back, snoring softly. Some of the exhaustion had vanished from his face. A few days off were exactly what he needed. If only he didn't have to get stabbed and suffer a concussion to get them.

In the soft golden sunlight, the bandage on his chest stood out against his darker skin, stubble showing around the tape’s perimeter. The itch had to be driving him crazy by now. It might have been a relatively small patch shaved, but considering just how much hair that small patch probably held? He’d go nuts in no time flat.

She traced her index finger along the line of his beard. It was far thicker than it had been when they first started seeing each other, and she wondered if he ever shaved it completely off. She couldn't recall ever seeing him without a full beard. She was pretty sure it had been full in high school as well. Probably even junior high, but she wouldn’t know. They didn't share a school until her freshman year.

High school. She’d had such a crush on him back then. He had no idea she was alive, but she remembered seeing him on Fridays in his football uniform, and he always looked so much older than the other high school boys. She could still picture him in the tight white pants and the cranberry colored jersey that didn’t quite reach the waist of those pants. He’d lift an arm and his washboard stomach was on display, complete with the dark hair and the happy trail that all the girls loved so much. Gorgeous didn't do him justice. Not even close.

Teddy was a cheerleader back then and Alex remembered being so jealous of her sister. They were both so certain that any day, Thorin Durin would ask Teddy out and while Teddy dreamed of it, Alex dreaded it.

She’d tried to approach him once, when she was writing for the school newspaper. She’d had the brilliant idea of interviewing a few of the football players and he was at the top of her list. She’d even managed to work up the nerve to linger around the practice field one afternoon, waiting for the guys to finish up practice. Her heart had begun beating so fast when she caught sight of him that she’d thought she might actually faint from it.

But as the team came off the field, and she hurried toward them before her courage faltered. “Thorin? Can I talk to you—oh!”

She tripped over the edge of the track and went reeling forward, fighting—and failing—to keep her balance. Her knees hit the track, the vibration jolted her notebook and pen from her grasp to send them flying in opposite directions, and she took the skin from her hands as she threw them out to block her fall, letting out a totally undignified, “Oooof!” as she faceplanted.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Concern wove through Thorin’s words as his shadow fell over her.

“Hey, Durin, looks like another freshman’s falling for you. Too bad it’s the freaky Prescott.”

“Durin, watch out, man, she might put a hex on you!”

“Nah, she can’t do that, only her hot sisters can!”

“Take her behind the bleachers. No one will ever know!”

“Fuck off, Morris,” Thorin growled over all of them as he shoved by them and crouched to swipe up her notebook and pen.“Hey, Alex, right? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she managed to croak, wincing as the other guys burst into laughter again. Her cheeks had to be bright red by that point, and she wished the rubberized track would just swallow her whole. “Can I have them back?”

“Yeah, sure.” He handed both back and reached for her hand again. “Let me help you—”

“I’m fine, really.” She got back to her feet, wincing at the sting in her hands and her knees, and looked down to see she’d ripped her jeans as well. God damn it! She would never live this down.

He regarded her with confused, but friendly, blue eyes. “What did you want?”

“N-nothing. I’m just… nothing… I’ll see you.”

“Alex? Wait a sec—” He tried to grab her arm as she brushed by him, her head down, her eyes stinging with tears. The laughter and taunts from the other jocks rang in her ears as she practically ran back to the school. Her mother promised to pick her up at five. Hopefully, the main office would still be opened, since Alex didn't have a cell phone yet and couldn’t bear the thought of lingering around the school for another half an hour. She wanted to die. She wanted to never set foot in Cranford Falls High School ever again.

“You didn't know I was alive,” she whispered. “At least, not until I made a total jackass of myself in front of you.”

“What did you do?” he whispered back.

She started, but only just. “What?”

He offered up a sleepy smile and opened his eyes. “What are you talking about? When did you make a jackass of yourself in front of me?”

“Nothing.” She sank back into her pillow, tucking a hand beneath her head. “I’m not talking about anything. Just saying goodbye to some old ghosts.”

“Lexi, what’re you talking about?” The sheets rustled softly as he rolled onto his side, facing her, and also tucked a hand beneath his head.

“You don’t remember the first time we met, do you?”

“Last fall? The argument over Richter versus Hank? Sure I remember it.”

“No.” She shook her head. “See? You don’t.”

“Am I in trouble for not remembering?”

“No. I’m actually kind of glad you don’t, to be honest.”

“Then clue me in.”

“I was a freshman. You were a senior. I was on the school paper and had the genius idea of interviewing you for the school paper. I waited for you to finish up practice one afternoon and as I got up the guts to come talk to you, I tripped over my own two feet and went splat on the track.”

“You wanted to interview me?”

“Thorin, I wanted to get into your pants, like every other girl at Cranford Falls High. I stupidly thought all I had to do was show a little interest, like Teddy or Syd would have had to do. And that’s why I thought interviewing you would work.” She sighed softly. “But I made an ass out of myself instead and it didn’t quite go the way I wanted it to go.”

“Was I a total dick to you about it?”

Despite the way the memory stung, she managed a smile. “Actually, no. You weren’t. The others were, but you were a perfect sweetheart, actually. But I was embarrassed beyond all rational thought and ran away without another word.”

“You were cute in high school.”

“You didn’t even know who I was.”

“Sure I did. Everyone knew the Prescotts.” He winked then. “Even the weird one.”

“Ass.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He scrunched closer to her. “So, you were going to ask me a few questions as a way to get me to try to ask you out?”

“Well, I’d plotted it so much better in my head. And it was all supposed to be simple, you know? I ask you a few questions, you think I’m adorable, and you fall hopelessly in love with me.” She rolled her eyes at how stupid it all seemed now, looking back. Stupid and naive, considering at her best in high school, she still wasn’t the type of a girl a boy like Thorin Durin asked out. And she really was beyond glad he didn't seem to remember any of it. She remembered it enough for the both of them.

“Ah, the plot thickens. What questions were you going to ask me, because honestly? Back then, all you’d have to do is ask, want to get naked? and I’d have been all over you.” He grinned, adding, “Kind of like now, actually.”

“Ha ha. No, I had all these very intelligent questions I spent hours coming up with,” her cheeks grew warm, but she soldiered on, “and you were going to be so wowed because I wasn’t like all those cheerleader types you always asked out. I was going to be one of the guys and that was how I’d get you. I’d know football and you’d be blown away by how much I knew about it. So, I work up this whole list and get the nerve to finally go out to the practice field and waited for you guys to finish and my chance comes? I blew it.”

“You really are better off for it. Trust me.” He sighed, shifting onto his back. “I was eighteen years old, Alex. I was only interested in one thing where girls were concerned and you were the quiet Prescott. The one least likely to give it up. I knew who you were. And you were cute back then, but I didn’t care about cute.” He turned his head in her direction. “I cared about easy. And I had the feeling you’d be anything but that.”

She sighed softly. Why did she even bring it up? It wasn’t a pleasant memory and the last thing she wanted to hear was how the football team thought her a prude and mocked her for even thinking Thorin might be the slightest bit interested in her.

“God, I was a total loser, Thorin.” She couldn’t hold back her sigh. “I was the freak Prescott. The one nobody paid any attention to, and when I finally got up the nerve to approach you, I fell on my face. Literally and figuratively. Total loser and then some.”

“No, you weren’t.” He reached over to curve his hand against her cheek, his eyes soft but serious. “You were cute. Serious. The guys used to wonder about you, you know. Everyone wonders about the quiet girls. There is something about them… but, they aren’t the ones you usually ask out because they’re usually the ones who won’t give it up and if I’d asked you out back then, it would’ve been for one reason only and that would be to get you in the backseat of my car as soon as possible, and you wouldn’t have gone for that. Never mind that it’s probably a good thing, because getting laid was all I cared about, and I wasn’t so good with calling you the next day, you know?”

She held his gaze, smiling as she said, “I’d have been okay with that. Losing my virginity to Thorin Durin? I dreamed about that happening.”

He just stared at her as if not quite sure whether or not she was being serious. “Lex?”

“What? I’m dead serious, Thorin. I dreamed of being plowed in the back of whatever it was you drove in high school. What could’ve been better?”

He grinned then. “I drove a Pathfinder. You’d have loved the back seat.” He shifted to ease himself over her. “But, you’d wouldn’t have loved having sex with me in it. Not then, anyway. I’m pretty sure you’d have been more than a little disappointed in me back then, honey. All I cared about was getting mine.”

He settled against her carefully, brushing her lips before adding, “You could go down on me all you wanted, but I wasn't thinking about returning the favor. No way in hell was I doing that. Never mind my idea of foreplay was giving your boobs a quick squeeze, then going in for the kill.”

“Jesus, Thorin, you must’ve left a lot of disappointed girls in your wake.”

He grinned. “Yeah, probably. I was a selfish asshole, if I’m really being honest. As little foreplay as I needed. Forget about giving a girl oral. It took me a while to build up any stamina. I was the twenty second wonder until I finally grew up enough to think about the woman I was with as well. Probably halfway through college before one was patient enough and fed up enough with me to point out what I was doing wrong and showed me how not to do them wrong any more.”

“Lucky girl.” She reached up to trace her finger along the line of his jaw. “But, you’re telling me this why?”

He frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know. But, you benefit so… because we both know I’m really fucking good at oral now and I make your eyes cross on a regular basis, so…”

“Yeah, you’re not bad at it.”

“Not bad? I could make you scream if I wanted to, Lexi. You know that, right?”

“Do I? I mean, you sound pretty sure of yourself, Mr. Durin, but I’m not so sure…”

“You doubt me, Ms Prescott?”

“What if I did?”

A wicked glint came to his eyes, one that threatened to steal the breath from her lungs, as did the equally wicked smile curving his lips. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, brushing her lips with his, “come on up and sit on my face. I’ll make you come so fucking hard, you’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven…”

“Thorin!”

“What?” He caught her around the waist and rolled onto his back, tugging her atop him. “Oh, was that too coarse for you, Lex? You want me to be fluffier? More romantic?”

His low growl set her body tingling. “Now, hold on, I didn't say that. I told you, I like bad boy Thorin.”

“Oh, yeah?” He tugged her flush against him, trailing his lips long her neck, flicking his tongue along sensitive skin as he did. “What do you want me to say, honey? You want me to tell you how hot you are? How you turn me on without doing a damn thing?”

“It’s a start. But, that’s not really too bad boy, you know? That’s actually kind of tame.”

“A start? Tame? Okay, hang on…” He caught her earlobe in teasing teeth, then released it to whisper, “You want me to tell you I love the way you taste? The scent of you? How it feels to know you get so wet for me. How you make me so fucking hard without even trying?”

“Thorin…” Her eyes closed, his silky voice sending a shiver along her spine. “Oh, I like this…”

“Yeah? You make me ache for you, honey… I think about you all day, think about what I want to do to you, how I want to see you on your knees in front of me, taking my cock nice and slow in that beautiful mouth… or how much I love the feel of your legs over my shoulders and my tongue on you, making you slick and sweet, how much I love hearing you moan out my name when you come, knowing I’m the one making you feel what you’re feeling. How seeing me slip inside you is enough to make me want to come the moment it happens. Seeing how you take me, how deep I can go, Christ, Lex, there is nothing like making love to you… Sex with you is the best sex I’ve ever had, honey. And I love you. I love everything about you, my quiet little girl. Everything.”

“Damn…” she breathed, gazing down at him, “that was good.”

“Oh, just wait, baby, I’m not finished with you yet,” he purred, catching her camisole by its hem to push up. The cool breeze brought on by the slowly whirring ceiling fan skittered across her skin as he eased the camisole over her breasts, as he tugged it up and over her head.

He hooked his fingers in her pale green lacy bikinis. “Take these off and let me prove it to you.”

“Your mom and dad are right downstairs.��

His grin grew wolfish. “So be quiet. I mean, if you can.”

“Is that a challenge, Mr. Durin?”

“Damn straight it is.” As he talked, he slipped finger beneath that green lace and as it slid along her, she couldn’t hold back her sigh. Fire rumbled through her, her hips moving slowly to meet his rhythm. Her head did a slow spin, her eyes growing heavy lidded as her blood heated with desire that quickly swept through her entire body.

“You know what?” he murmured, his hands on her hips, tugging her up. “You don’t even need to take them off.”

“Thorin, what are you—oh!” Her fingers stretched out to grip the white wicker headboard, tightening involuntarily about it as he shifted her up and over him, nudged aside the lace, and flicked his tongue slowly against her. “Oh, Thorin…”

His fingers tightened on her hips, holding her above him as he teased her with those slow flicks and silken caresses. She shivered against him as the delicious sensations tingled their way through her. It felt so utterly wicked, as she had to fight to keep from crying out as he brought her to the very edge of madness, her body tingling and aching for release, in only a matter of minutes. Each caress made her ache a little more for him. And when she forced her heavy-lidded eyes open and looked down to find him watching her, she almost climaxed right then and there at the fire in his blue eyes.

She reached down between her knees, shoving her fingers into his hair, holding him as she slowly rocked against him. His fingers tightened on her, his strokes harder and faster now. His name bubbled to her lips and she bit down on her bottom lip to hold it back as white-hot pleasure flooded her and the knots came undone. He hadn’t lied. If they were alone in his apartment, she had no doubt she’d scream from the fiery bliss sweeping through her. She had to bite back her cry, her fingers going white where she laced them through the wicker. He brought her to the edge, held her over it, and then—

“Thorin!” She managed to hold back her cry, his name bubbling forth as a strangled whisper. He held her completely still as she came, teasing her, torturing her, until she shuddered against him and sank against the headboard, breathing, “Oh, god… Thorin…” as she fought for air.

His grin was was almost Cheshire Cat-like as she slid back down to seize his lips with hers. As she kissed him, she reached down, tugged down the waistband of his briefs just enough to reach for him, rocked back and—

“Alex…” His voice was no more than a hoarse whisper as she came down onto him and slid slowly down until she sheathed him entirely. His fingers tightened on her hips, his eyes heavy-lidded and sinful as he whispered, “Christ, you feel good…”

His hands swept up along her hips, her waist, up to cup her breasts and flicked his thumbs over her nipples. He arched to meet her, moaning softly in his throat as she moved faster against him, her hips rolling slowly as she savored each sensations he sent scorching through her. “Ride me, beautiful,” he growled, thrusting hard into her. A sinful smile played at his lips. “Squeeze me just like that… God, I want to make you come again…”

As he spoke, he released one breast to slip that hand between them and a moment later, spiky hot pleasure tore through her again as she tensed around him. Everything was so sensitive, his caress almost hurt, but she found the slight pain mingled with the pleasure to make her tighten around him once more. She shivered, her control slowly slipping away, her body tingling from head to toe as the strongest pleasure she’d ever known began its slow spiral through her.

“Thorin…” Her eyes closed, her hips moving of their own now. She shuddered against him, the tingles sharper and hotter and multiplying by the hundreds as he drove her to the edge once more.

“Baby… keep doing th-that—oh!” He slid his hand free, then arched with a fury, his thrust sending him deep inside her. She shivered. Erupted. Melted. Her fingernails dug into his chest, just below the bandage, as she threw her head back, arched her back, and surrendered to the moment.

He came then, shuddering under her, growling her name, a muscle bulging in his jaw, his fingers biting into her thighs. For a moment, she thought she’d pass out, her head spun so badly and as she sank against him, she squeeze her eyes shut, almost crying from the fiery pleasure still burning its way through her.

He wrapped his arms about her, his breath coming in short, hard bursts. He cradled her, whispering breathlessly, “Holy shit…Oh, sweetheart… Oh, shit, what you do to me…”

“What I do to you?” She lifted her head, shoving her hair out of her eyes. “I didn't do anything to you.”

“The hell you didn’t,” he offered with a grin. “My body is numb from how incredible that felt.” He traced his fingertips down along her back, wincing as she shifted and the fullness inside her disappeared. He tugged her down to meet his kiss, whispering, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She snuggled again him, tucking her head into the slope of his neck, brushing her lips lightly along the bristly scruff that was the beginning of his beard. He sighed softly. “I like how that feels.”

“Good to know,” she whispered back.

He went quiet, his fingers sweeping lightly along her back. He pressed a kiss into her temple. And as she lay there in his arms, Alex knew there was no where else she’d want to be, and no other man with whom she wanted to be.

But, the universe didn't necessarily care, as seen by the fact that his phone rang just as she was dozing back off against him. He shifted slightly to snag it, and frowned as he looked at the screen. “It’s Laini, Lex. I have to take this.”

“Laini?”

“One of my hookers.”

“Oh, right. Laini.” She grinned, easing off him. How many other women would be perfectly okay with her boyfriend having hookers who called him at all hours? Somehow, she didn't think there were many.

He toggled to accept and said, “Lieutenant Durin.”

She rolled away from him, only to have him snake an arm about her waist and dragged her back up against him. “Yeah, Laini, what’s up?”

Alex sighed softly, turning toward him to snuggle against him, tucking her head in the curve of his chest and shoulder, then whispered, “I smell coffee.”

“Hold on a second, Laini.” Thorin lowered the phone and whispered, “Go on down, I’ll come down as soon as I’m done here.”

She nodded, brushed his lips with a kiss, then slipped from the bed as he said, “Okay, I’m back.”

The room was chilly, so she drew on the hoodie she’d thrown into her bag as she left the room and pulled the door closed behind her, fluffing her hair over her shoulders as she made her way below. The rich scent of fresh coffee greeted her, and as she padded into the kitchen, Alanis looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Alex. Coffee is fresh and there’s half and half in the fridge.”

“Thank you,” she replied, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind her ear as she moved to the coffee pot, where two clean mugs stood alongside it.

“Thorin keeps threatening to buy us a Keurig, but so far, it’s an empty threat,” Alanis said. “Is he still sleeping?”

“No. He’s on the phone, actually.” She poured coffee into one of the mugs, added half and half and sugar, stirred, then brought the cup over to the breakfast bar, where she pulled out a stool and sat. “An informant, which sounds so buddy-cop-movie-ish, but that’s what she is.”

Alanis set down her own cup. “He works too hard. I’m always telling him he needs to learn to relax a bit.”

Her gaze lingered on Alex and for a moment, Alex wondered if Thorin’s mother knew what they’d been doing just a few minutes earlier. They’d been quiet, but if she’d been right outside Thorin’s room for any reason…

Hopefully her face wouldn’t get much warmer. She certainly didn't want to give them away, but it was a little unnerving, so she nodded. “I know, but you know how it is.”

“All too well. Thorin’s father was with the department for almost thirty years. I know it all too well. And I never used to really worry about him or Thorin, or Frerin. And then… well… you know what happened to Frerin.”

Alex nodded slowly. “I do, yeah. Thorin’s told me, and I remember when it happened. My gram tried to help solve his death and I’m so sorry we couldn’t. It’s funny, everyone in my family has this weird gift that’s supposed to be handy for unsolved cases and missing persons and all that, but it wasn’t such a gift for this.”

“Thorin told me that—oh, this would sound crazy to anyone else, but somehow, I don’t think you’ll find it so crazy at all—but I saw him. Frerin. Last night. And I didn't want to believe it was him all those times before because I thought it would hurt too much, but you know? It was… nice… I mean, nice isn’t really the right word, but… oh, I sound crazy, don’t I?”

“No.” Alex told her softly. “It doesn’t sound crazy at all. Did it bring you any peace?”

“Yes and no. He said he’d come back and I’ll be able to talk to him a little longer next time and I’ve… I’ve missed that so much.” Alanis let out a soft laugh, then looked down at her coffee cup for a long moment, then drew in a deep breath and looked back up. “Can you see him?”

“I can, yes. He’s been showing up in my room for a while now. And it was weird at first, but I’ve gotten used to him, I guess.”

“Good. I’m glad you can. And I’ll bet Thorin is, too. He took Frerin’s death so hard. And I was really worried about him for the longest time. But now, seeing you with him, and seeing him happy with you? I don’t think I need to worry quite that much any more.” A sad smile came to Alanis’ lips and her eyes grew shiny. “I know your family knows a lot about this sort of thing, and Thorin told me that he—he might be able to solve who killed Frerin.”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. The woman he’s on the phone with has been helping him.”

“Let me guess,” Alanis’ expression brightened. “Laini?”

Alex couldn't hold back her laugh. “I guess he’s talked about her?”

“He’s mentioned her a few times. I’m probably the only woman who doesn’t mind her son hanging around prostitutes on a regular basis.”

“I’m not hanging around with them,” Thorin told her, coming around into the kitchen, scratching absently at the bandage on his chest as he padded to the coffeepot and filled the last cup. “At least not, often.”

He lifted the cup to his lips for a sip, still scratching when he lowered it. “Where’s Dad?”

“He went to the bakery and don’t scratch at that! You’ll rip a stitch open and end up with an infection.”

“It itches and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Even so, suck it up and let it be.” She moved to the refrigerator to take out a fresh carton of half and half and pressed it toward him. “That one’s got to be nearly empty. So, what did your informant have to say?”

“Looks like George is up to his old tricks.”

A shiver ran down Alex’s spine. “What?”

“Yeah.” His expression grew grim. “He must’ve still been pissed about Laini playing him the other day. Someone set fire to her house sometime last night and burned it to the ground, and I’ll bet a year’s salary we know who someone is.”

#Richard Armitage #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Thorin x OC #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Modern AU #Detective AU #Parapsychology #Thriller AU

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userlando · 4 years

Text

my secret (tom holland x fem!reader nsfw)

(gif credit) summary: during an impromptu sleepover with your friends, you can’t help but sneak into tom’s room for a late night rendezvous. pairing: tom holland / female reader. wordcount: 2,942 words warnings: penetrative sex and fingering, unprotected sex, biting, kissing, swearing. a/n: figures that my inspiration disappears for almost two years only to come back while I’m messing around on my phones notes app. sorry for any mistakes, this was written and rewritten on my phone and it’s the first thing i’ve written in a long while. all feedback is appreciated!! also, this is as usual dedicated to @babylevines i love love love you x

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You cracked the door open, squinting your eyes in the dark while praying silently that the door wouldn’t creak like it usually did as you pushed it open enough to slip through. After the telltale click of it closing sounded, you took a second to adjust to the darkness with bated breath; Trying to find the sleeping body of Tom in bed.

It didn’t take you long to spot him, tangled up in the crisp white sheets as he snoozed on his back with his arms spread wide over the king sized bed. You almost felt bad for even having the thought of waking him up, but you hadn’t had your hands on him for five days and it was torture to sit through the entire evening among your friends, hanging out while he was giving you subtle stares across the room that made your heart race ridiculously fast. There was only so much playful sexting you could take before you combusted.

With that thought in your mind, you quickly slipped your basketball shorts off your legs and threw them somewhere on the floor.

You snuck up to the bed, finding a spot on the mattress where you could place your knee as you heaved yourself up with a huff. Tom let out a small sleepy hum at the feel of the mattress dipping and you had just enough time to straddle him gently before his eyes cracked open, sleepy and disoriented.

“Y/n? What-?” He cut himself off, voice hoarse and dripping in confusion. “You okay? What’s goin’ on?”

It was dark in the room, but you could see as he lifted his head to glance around the room, eyes settling on you in pure confusion and a little worry. It made you smile. His eyebrows furrowed but you didn’t miss the way his hands immediately found your hips, gripping them in a way that had you grinding down on his crotch just to get some sort of friction.

“Fuck.” He swore loudly, disturbing the quiet in the room and you dipped down to catch his lips with yours; To silence him and to silence the voice in your head, screaming at you to kiss him.

He replied in gusto, opening his mouth as soon as your tongue touched his lip. The taste of sleep, of him, made your thighs clench around his hips and you couldn’t stop the small whimper from slipping out.

It wasn’t hard to coax him into a short make out session, but you could still feel the confusion in his movements so you pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. He was breathing hard, tilting his chin up to steal another kiss from your mouth and the gesture made you smile, teeth biting down on your lower lip.

“Everyone’s asleep.” You said, watching as his eyes flickered from yours to momentarily look at the clock on the nightstand.

He’d only been asleep for three hours, having gone to bed before the movie had ended in the living area. You’d stayed up with your other friends to finish it, slipping in some deep, late night talk before you all called it a night. You’d shared the guest bed with Zendaya, but sleep hadn’t come to you as easily as it had come to her.

You’d been too on edge, trying to plan out how you could sneak off to Tom’s room without everyone else hearing. But you’d succeeded, and it was all worth it.

“They’ll hear us, won’t they?” Tom whispered, and you almost laughed at the way his eyebrows furrowed as his hips seemed to automatically grind up against yours. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

The unexpected compliment made your face heat up and you were quick to bury it in his neck, pulling a deep breath before closing your mouth around a patch of skin right between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, sucking hard. He squirmed, clearly ticklish but it still made him let out a small moan that vibrated against your cheek.

“They won’t hear us if we’re quiet.” You mumbled.

Tom tightened his grip on your hip before twisting you so you were laying side by side instead and you peered up at him as he heaved himself up so he could support his weight on his elbow.

“Alright, miss noisy.” He gave you a grin, along with a quick bop of his finger against your nose and you narrowed your eyes at him.

Before you could protest, say that you weren’t the only noisy one, he’d let the same hand wander up your naked thigh; Like he was taking in the softness of your skin. You glanced at it at the same time he did, and you held your breath when it traveled up your stomach and beneath your loose t-shirt. Your heart picked up its pace as he circled your belly button, lightly tickling you just to hear your small intake of breath. He let out a crude curse when he cupped your breast, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger before twisting it in a way that had you squirming, back arching.

“Please.” You whispered, bucking your hips toward him but he only watched you with an amused tilt of his lips. The bastard was enjoying this a little too much.

He gave your other nipple the same amount of attention before dipping his head down to kiss you, licking hotly into your mouth.

“Bloody hell, darling,” He huffed out a small laugh, spanning his fingers across the side of your torso before slipping around you and into the flimsy material of your cotton panties. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? Every time you sit across from me, looking so innocent and absolutely delicious? Drives me nuts.”

He tightens his grip on your ass cheek in a bruising way and you can’t help but slip your hands into his hair to bring his lips toward yours in a sloppy kiss. You let him fall on his back and move to straddle him once again, refusing to back down when he tried to break your kiss to protest.

He gave up easily when you bit his lip, reaching your hands down to clumsily push your underwear down and throwing them somewhere behind you before resettling on his lap. There was no doubt that he could feel your heat against his covered crotch, and that alone made you clench.

“Remember last night?” You whispered and any other day you’d be embarrassed by how breathless you sounded.

He let out a small hum when you put your palms against his naked pectorals, raking your nails down with a pressure you knew would get him going. It took him a while to gather his thoughts, but then he looked up at you, eyes eager and heated.

“Gonna have to be a little more specific, darling.” He laughed, voice hushed.

You shot him a grin and leaned down so you could kiss his throat, right above his Adam’s apple that bobbed when he swallowed heavily.

“Last night when we texted, I said that I needed you inside me,” Your voice was low as you kissed up his sharp jawline. “And you said-“

“- I’d fuck you so hard you’d forget your own name.” He finished for you, hands coming up to surround your face in a firm grip.

Your mouth dropped open right as he went in for the kiss, rendering you speechless for a full minute before the need became too much to ignore.

“Are you going to carry out your promise, sweetheart?” You asked, earning a nip of teeth to your lip.

Tom didn’t reply, one hand leaving your hip to touch your pussy, testing out how wet you were and if he needed to prep you. His face contorted in concentration as he pulled out his finger, working quickly with the same hand to pull himself out of his sweatpants without jostling you too much.

“You know I always keep my promises.” He gave you a chaste kiss, sounding all too cocky and you couldn’t stop the moan ripping from your throat as you felt him breach you a moment later. “Quiet, my love.”

You braced your hands on either side of his head, fingers gripping the sheets in a tight grip as you pushed back onto his cock. He was clearly trying to hold back as to not hurt you, but you were way past the point of caring or waiting.

Your eyes screwed shut as he finally sunk into you and Tom moaned into your ear when you ground down on him, raising your hips the best you could before taking him in again in a rhythm that made his breath stutter against your lips.

It wasn’t lost on you how absolutely gorgeous Tom was, thinking back to the first time when Zendaya had brought you along a pub night and you’d met him. There had been an instant attraction that was undeniable and from then on it had been constant texting and late night phone calls in the quiet of your room, disturbing your roommates without a question.

Within those six months, you’d seen him when he was lounging at home with sweatpants, in a suit for whatever red carpet event he attended, naked in all his glory and even dressed up when there was any kind of event that required it. But this, this was your favourite view of them all.

He stretched his head back on the pillow, making an indent on it as he let out something akin to a moaning hum when you sat up straight to ride him at a better angle. His eyes were scrunched shut, teeth buried into his bottom lip and his hands scrambled to grab a hold of your hips - urging you to move faster.

He looked downright obscene with his throat on display, breathing harshly through his nose as he tried to control his urge to hammer into you like a deprived man.

“I - oh, I needed this.” You whispered out, a sharp gasp evading you when he thrust up so suddenly that you had to lean forward to steady yourself on his heaving chest. “Tommy!”

You knew you were being too loud. You knew that you were on the brink of exposing your relationship that you’d worked hard to keep a secret from your friends. And Tom still had enough sanity to realise it because he was quick to slide his hands up your back, bringing you flush against his chest before rolling the two of you over. It wasn’t smooth and the awkwardness made you snicker as he slipped out of you. He snorted unattractively and it set your uncontrollable giggling off.

“Don’t laugh at me,” He tried to pout but the smile on his face said otherwise as he leaned forward to kiss you, burying his face in your shoulder after. “I’m trying to be sexy and smooth.”

You gasped momentarily as he guided himself into you again, arms and legs wrapping around him and mouth finding his shoulder to nip on when he started thrusting slowly, deeply.

“The smoothest.” You teased, smile evident in your voice.

Tom brought one of his free hands back up your thigh and the shock of the smack he landed on your left ass cheek made you jump with a yelp.

“Brat.” He murmured huskily against your ear, kissing right beneath it to soften the reprimand.

He thrusted forward and hit a particularly good spot that had you whimpering pathetically.

“Mmm, you love it.” You had to have the last word, and Tom seemed to secretly enjoy it because he steadied himself on one arm and grabbed your thigh with the other, picking up pace as he started fucking you in a toe curling fashion.

The perfect angle that he knew would make you inch closer to climax, with the help of his crotch rubbing right against your clit with every thrust of his hips.

A creaking sound made you perk your ears up and you quickly realised that it wasn’t coming from inside of the room. Rather, outside in the hallway. You instantly put your hand on Tom’s shoulder and the other one on his mouth he’d opened as he panted. His eyes opened and searched yours, eyebrows scrunching together.

“Someone’s outside.” You whispered, trying to get your breathing under control as you heard the telltale creak of the bathroom door down the hall.

Tom licked against the palm of your hand and the wetness had you snatching it away with a startled gasp, a giggle escaping the both of you as you looked at each other.

“It’s probably Harrison and his microscopic bladder.” He rolled his eyes with a grin, pushing himself up carefully as to not rustle the sheets too loudly.

Your eyes fluttered shut for a second when you felt him move inside you and you couldn’t help but clench down on his cock, a breathy moan tumbling from your lips.

“Do you want to get caught, naughty girl?” He raised his eyebrows in a teasing manner, placing both of his hands on either side of your hips.

You hummed, but the both of you knew that the reason you’d kept your relationship a secret for so long was partly because of the thrill. There was nothing better than sneaking around whenever you saw an opportunity, keeping your hands to yourself in public or among your friends like you were nothing but acquaintances. It had been all for fun at first before the both of you realised that you wanted more, so you decided that it’d be best to explore it in secret and see where that took you.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you were caught by any of your friends, but there was a mutual agreement that you’d sneak around until that day came.

“Wish I could take a picture of you like this,” Tom said lowly, hands sliding up your skin and pulling your shirt up with them until your entire chest was exposed to his eyes only. “Lying on my bed, half naked with your tits out and your hair a mess. Aching for my cock. I can feel it. You want to come, don’t you, sweetheart?”

He pushed your shirt up so it laid comfortably rolled up beneath your chin, fingers pinching your nipples as he started thrusting again.

“Just like that.” Was all you managed to whisper, bringing a hand down to rub at your clit to speed things along.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

He fucked into you, pushing you up the bed as he leaned forward to bury his head in your chest. His arms wrapped around your body, fingers digging into your back to pull you into him as he drove forward.

Your orgasm took you by surprise, a guttural moan tearing its way out of your mouth as every nerve came alive in your body; Toes curling and stomach spasming.

Tom whispered out your name and that was the only warning you got before he pulled out, balancing his weight on one elbow as he jerked himself off and came right over your pussy. You weakly buried your hands in his hair, feeling him shake as he rode out the last of his orgasm before collapsing on top of you, mess be damned.

His face was as warm as his puffs of breaths on your neck and you turned your head to press small kisses against his hair.

“I needed that.” He murmured, sounding sleepy and content. Much like a cat.

“Me too.”

The both of you laid there until the mess on your lower half of your body started feeling tacky and uncomfortable. Tom heaved himself up with great difficulty but you stopped him when he swung his legs over the edge to get off the bed; Clearly intending to get a towel so he could clean you off.

“It’s alright, Tommy. I need to go to the bathroom on my way back anyway.” You assured him and he nodded, a grateful and sleepy smile gracing his flushed face.

You got up from the bed, having to support yourself with a hand on his shoulder for a second to avoid falling because of your wobbly legs. A huffed laugh sounded from behind you and you rolled your eyes, refusing to turn around to see his smug smile, opting to find your panties and shorts instead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You whispered after you’d sorted yourself out long enough to make a trip to the bathroom without risking any awkward encounters.

Tom nodded, beckoning you forward with his arms and you didn’t hesitate to walk into them. He wrapped his arms around you, laying his head against your chest.

“Can’t you just sleep here?” He sounded whiny, and you pulled back with a laugh to look at him.

“I can,” You brushed a lock of damp hair away from his forehead and bent down to kiss him. “But where’s the fun in that?”

His laughter was the last thing you heard as you shut his door behind you, taking a moment to calm your heart before making your way to the bathroom.

The clock was 3:56am by the time you crawled under the bedsheets, feeling exhaustion crawling over your body after the nights event. Zendaya was silent, sleeping with her back turned to you and you let your eyes close shut; Fully intending on having a good dream when your friend sighed.

“You guys aren’t as discreet as you think you are.”

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland smut #my fic #smut #fluff #actor rpf #rpf fanfic #this is so random lol hi

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akvtsuki-ari · 5 years

Text

Around Your Neck

Warning: smut, unprotected sex/creampie, post!prison reid, fingering, oral both recieving, throatfucking, slapping, bruises idk??

Length: 4.8k

Authors note: you know that tiktok audio that goes “whats wrong with you?,” over and over again. thats how writing this fic made me feel. based loosely after a conversation me and my wife @pastanest had sdkjhjkef and that gifset of spencer with that gold chain on that has me so tight. so disrespectful...

Edit: heres the gifset!!!

Plot Summary: Prison changed Spencer. That damn chain around his neck made sure you remembered.

Spencer Reid was… different after prison. It was something about him when he left, like a part of him was always far away somewhere when you spoke to him. He was fractured it seemed like - even though he was saving lives everyday there always seemed to be something on his mind. He was still Spencer of course, still sweet-talking and soothing when he needed to be. He never lost that odd charm about him and after those first few months he grew back to be more comfortable in his own skin but there was just something there. Something on the back of his mind that he seemed to be handling alone.

You’d been with Spencer for a while before he went to jail, a few years and other traumatic events later - you had an idea of how Spencer dealt with pain and difficulty. He liked to let things sit and stir inside of him for a long time before he lets it show - then he gets snappy and mean for a bit after that till he sorta just breaks. In many ways, when something bad happened to Spencer you sorta just knew what things would be like for a bit, but no matter how many times he slipped you caught him. When he got shot and nearly died twice, you were there right next to him - making sure that he was going to be okay. That's just what you did, to say you were Spencers ride-or-die would be an understatement. You gave him whatever he needed, whether that be some tough love or being pampered for a few days straight.

Spencer knew that about you, and even before prison he had this affinity for you that always made sure you knew how much he adored you. He wanted you to know that he only ever had eyes for you and that he was beyond grateful for how patient you seemed and how loving you were to him. Spencer made sure he never stopped chasing you before he went to prsion. He bought you flowers, supported you when you switched careers, and generally made sure he returned the favor in loving you but he was always chasing you still. Part of it was out of disbelief that someone could love him like that, but the other part was out of insecurity. You always told him you were always his, but he never seemed to believe you.

Prison changed a lot of things for Spencer, but that thing about him chasing you was what changed most. Spencer was always possessive in his own right, but he wasn’t jealous necessarily. He just wanted to make sure you were okay and that no one was fucking with you or bothering you. It didn’t bother him before if you talked and flirted with Luke, or if some guy was hitting on you because you were normally so adamantly rejecting it. He wasn’t someone who was particularly upset about not having claimed you as his - before he didn’t really care.

For the longest time you didn’t really notice just how much Spencer had actually changed how he acted towards you - mostly because he was still really sweet to you. It wasn’t like he was treating you any worse, or necessarily any better. It was honest to God, just different, more.. something. You don’t wanna use the word aggressive because Spencer isn’t the aggressive type. Spencer was calculated, and he could be angry sometimes but not often. He didn’t have a shorter fuse - hell, you could argue that prison made him more patient since he was often just lying in wait.

The best way to describe it is probably just more confident, really. He was assertive about you being his and his tolerance for crude jokes that came your way was a lot lower. Most of the time, at least before, he’d let shit slide if it was too small. Nowadays though, if he even catches something bothering you he steps in - always finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him like he was keeping you close to protect you. He doesn’t curse them out or get angry, just stares at them with a blank expression that's arguably more intimidating.

You were a flirt by nature, too. You were never trying to flirt with people, but you’re one for flattery and compliments so it sure can be read that way. You loved receiving the same energy so when you did your jokes and compliments would increase ten-fold. It doesn’t bother Spencer because he knows you’re just being silly but before, he didn’t mind if the other person was serious because he knew that you’d never continue like that. Now though, when someones dropping any lines your way he’ll tell them to leave you alone no question, unconcerned about any consequence or even if that person could beat Spencer's ass. Spencer wasn’t concerned about strength like he used to be - and when you asked him about why that was he simply shrugs.

“I’ll play dirty if it gets there,”

Those were all small details but there were so many of them that it was starting to pile up and draw you to interesting conclusions. Sex was also a clear example of change. The first time the two of you had sex when he came back from prison was relatively the same, but you could tell he was holding something back. For the longest time, you didn’t really know what until it was the heat of the moment and Spencer wrapped his hands around your throat and ask if he could choke you - something that you’d ask for previously that he was rather unsure about doing. It was the way Spencer's eyes looked into your eyes when he did it, the way his fingers curled almost carelessly around your delicate neck - so instinctively as if the whole endeavor was so natural. When he lets you go and kisses you - you’re more than into it but you can’t help but wonder where his desire came from. You didn’t really mind how Spencer got when he was like that but damn, you couldn’t say you saw it coming.

The more you thought about it, the more it became clear to you that Spencer has changed a whole lot more than you understood initially, but maybe the last straw was when you made a sorta silly joke about the necklace worn around his neck after prison. It was a thin gold chain, for the most part tucked underneath his clothes when he went to work. He said in many cultures gold is a symbol for blessing and spirituality and he wanted to keep that with him, and that a lot of other people in prison wore gold chains. You made some stupid joke that if he were gonna wear it all the time - he should at least have your name around his neck. You knew stuff like that wasn’t really Spencer thing so when you’d said it, even though it was pretty hot, you were mostly just joking.

It’d been a few weeks since then. Spencer had a case that needed his attention and you were at the bullpen with Penelope waiting for everyone's arrival. You were nearly bursting from anticipation, a busy case that made you particularly clingy and had you missing Spencer more than you can explain. There everyone was, walking through the doors when Spencer walks through and wraps you up in his arms. Spencer picks you up and spins you around for a few seconds before giving you a small smile. You just hug him again, noticing the cool metal on your skin when you do. You pull back before Spencer speaks and look down - his chains never had a pendant before

There it was. Your name, hangin around his neck like it was nothing. Spencer was sporting it with a more casual version of what he normally wears, which was basically just no tie. A white shirt and blazer, and your name around his neck. You try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your jeans while your fingers went up carefully to touch it. Spencer gives a coy smile, watching the way your eyes look at it so hazy. Just like he wanted. He places his hand on top of yours, seeing your pretty eyes flick up to meet his. You can barely contain yourself - the chain around his neck always brought you to some interesting places but to see your name - your fucking name, around his neck so casually brought you somewhere rather interesting.

“Um - nice necklace,” you squeak out. Spencer laughs brightly, his arms circling around your waist as you bury your face in his chest instinctively . You can feel the way his laugh reverberates and you just whine in annoyance.

“I’m glad you liked it, might be a little awkward otherwise,” Spencer jokes. It was your turn to giggle, Spencer left terribly endeared by the sound.

“You ready to head home, doctor?,” you say softly. Spencer nods, taking your hand as you lead the way and feeling his heart burst out of his chest, grateful to have you on him always.

You guess that Spencer buying your name as a pendant on his chain was really what set you off in realizing just how possessive he was. He didn’t take it off around the house, walking around your shared apartment shirtless with it on at all times. He’d play with it constantly, fingers brushing the smooth metal while he was doing something a little mindless or that required his focused attention. It was driving you nuts, the image of Spencers chain hanging in your face was already one you returned to a lot but - now that your name was there it made the stakes of such a situation so much higher.

Spencers just sitting and reading the paper when you finally are fed up. He always liked reading the actual newspaper, claims there's nothing quite as good but you’re tired of… well, you’re not sure what you were tired of but you knew you needed his attention asap before you lost your marbles for good. You walk over to him, moving the newspaper carefully out of his hands and folding it before sitting across his lap and crossing your arms. Spencer laughs loudly, especially as you take his arms and wrap them around your waist. Spencer just gives you a quirked eyebrow, a questioning look. You shake your head, because you’re honestly kind of unsure for what you’re asking for - you just wanted something. Dick, maybe.

You give Spencer a look as you take his chain around your fingers again and play with it’s pendant. He already knows why you’re here, but he decides to let you figure it out. He knew before that you were the submissive type, but his response to that changed in prison. He carried that picture of you with him everyday, looked at it for hours sometimes so he could sleep - and it pissed him off when people would see it and talk about you. Spencer missed a lot of things outside of jail but you were number one - your love and affection of course, but there were other things too. Prison made Spencer particular about his possessions, that picture of you was one of the few things that was his and his alone. He didn’t let anyone go as far as touch that picture, so when he saw you again that possession just carried over. He didn’t really care, especially since it didn’t seem to bother you. Prison made Spencer realize how much he really cared for his possessions, books, chess boards, you - all things he already cared about but became a lot more particular after the fact.

Spencer just knows. When you sit on his lap, all he can picture is him out in the yard but instead of isolated and paranoid, he’s with you by his side giving him all the restraint in the world. He’d be damned if he let anyone take that from him. You give Spencer a look he can’t explain, there's a certain innocence written on your face that makes Spencer's chest hot. His hand sits between your bare thigh as you sit on his lap, and the second you look down on it, you seem to get the clue. Spencer grips your thigh, eyes following the way yours move to try and make sense of what's happening. Your eyes are fluttery, as your head twists to meet Spencers, the two of you nose to nose. Spencer just gives you a smile, before looking down at your lips then right back up to you. You blush.

“You’re close,” you say, not knowing what else to do. Spencer chuckles.

“Would you like me to move?,” Spencer asks politely. You shake your head.

“No,” you say stubbornly. Spencer licks his lips for a second before smiling again.

“Okay. Then, what would you like me to do?,” Spencer says, holding back a laugh. Your eyes fixate on his lips when he talks, and you scrunch your face up.

“Kiss me,” you mumble. Spencer grins ear to ear.

“Say please,” Spencer replies, leaning in as his lips brush onto yours. He pulls away before you can kiss and you sigh.

“Please,” you manage out meekly.

Spencer pushes air out of his nose before he does just that. His lips are smooth, stubble touching your smooth skin as your hand moves to one side of his face. Spencer smiles into the kiss, feeling the way you melt into him. The moments before things get heated is fast, Spencer's hands underneath your shirt as his tongue slides between your lips. He kisses you slowly, patiently but that’s not quite what you want. You give him a whine, but he shows the same attitude. You keep kissing like that for a while, moving yourself to straddling Spencer's lap before using your teeth to lightly tug on Spencer's bottom lip. He gives you a small groan and you return it with a noise of approval. Spencer pulls back to look at you, his eyes telling you to be careful but his body language betraying him. You can feel the tent in Spencer pants as you weigh yourself down on his lap.

“Don’t hold back,” you ask, hoping it’s the right thing. Spencer gives you a weary look.

“Are you sure?'' Spencer asks. You nod, eyes looking into his.

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for go,” you say repeating your safewords to him. Spencer gives you a kiss on the forehead, both for remembering your safeword but as an assurance. He’d never really been rough with you - he was a soft dom at heart and wouldn’t go as far as hurting you. You just give him a pleading look - you wanted him to be rough with you, bruise and mark you, just for a little while. The idea made your skin flush, but who was Spencer to deny you of such a request. Spencer nods softly, leading you to the bedroom.

Spencers the first to close the door, pushing you up against as he lifts one of your legs up and kisses you slowly - fingers pressing into your thighs as Spencers tongue toys with yours. He always kisses you like that, slowly but surely introducing as much of himself to you as possible - his erections pressed against you when he does. The sound that leaves your mouth is a cross between a whimper and a moan - a broken sound that makes Spencer a little more eager. He smiles when you make, giving you a look of surprise but you don’t have anything to say. Spencer smiles down at you.

“Go lay down for me,” Spencer requests. You just nod as you get comfortable on the bed - watching Spencer take off his grey sweatpants and boxers, the chain still around his neck. Your eyes follow his figure, landing on his erection before widening. Spencer just chuckles at you - signalling for you to take your shirt off which you do with no question. You watch his eyes as the rack themselves over your figure, panties forbidding the rest of you from being on display. Spencer walks towards the bed, pulling your legs over the edge as he kneels between them. You yelp at the sudden move, but quickly settle up again.

One thing is for certain, Spencer always wants to make you feel good first. It didn’t really matter what headspace he was in - whether or not he was super dominant like he was today or if he was super submissive like he was when he was stressed. His touch is careful, your legs over his shoulders pull him closer instinctively but he doesn’t seem to mind. He merely pushes your panties to the side before he eats you out, kissing your clit to be gentlemanly. His tongue is careful at first, experimental lickes before he lays his tongue flat - with a soft rhythm, slowly increasing his pace to your pleasure. He gets you close like that, pausing for a few seconds on moving before sucking softly on you, making you twitch your legs. Spencers careful about this part, his speed only testament to how much he can push you, the knot in your stomach carefully being undone as Spencer continues.

“Can I cum, please?,” your voice scrapes the surface as you ask. Spencer is busied with his mouth but he hums - feeling you unravel as your orgasm hits you with astonishing impact. Spencer feels the way you pulsate on his tongue, humming again so you feel that little vibration that sends your hands in Spencer's hair to pull you off. You’re trying to catch your breath as you finish, Spencer still adamantly eating you - making your body shiver with pleasure. He holds your hips down for a few minutes like that. You don’t really want to argue with him but you’re unsure how much you can handle as he makes you cum for the second time, a small wave of pleasure brushing against your spine as cum for the second time. When Spencer pulls away from you, orgasm covers his lips and manages to get onto his stubble. He gives you a light smile as he leans up to kiss you, hands holding your thighs as he does. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

“Do you think you can handle letting me fuck your throat?,Spencer asks. You give him a look of surprise, trying to remember if you still had any cough drops before nodding - more than eager to let him do that if that's what he wanted to do. You just nod, ready to get on your knees before Spencer stops you in your tracks.

“I wanted to do it while you were laying down, you know,” Spencer says, voice unsure. You’re surprised but you just shrug, laying down, your head back on the edge of the bed. It weird to see everything upside down like this, so you just shut your eyes and open your mouth up. Spencers cock twitches at the site of you laid back for him like this, pushing past your lips a lips a bit, feeling your tongue along his tip. You pat Spencers leg, letting him know you were comfortable to let him go further, feeling his length push past your throat. You let your throat relax, gripping your thumb as Spencer buries himself nearly fully in you. His fingers find the column of your neck, brushing the bulge in your throat which makes it hard for him to contain himself. Spencers fucks your throat slowly, carefully not to push you too hard even though you were more than ready for it. You steadied yourself, the other hand in your underwear rubbing your clit to the feeling Spencer fucking you like this.

“You’re so pretty with me down your throat like this,” Spencer comments. You moan around his length, letting him know he’s free to continue.

“Prison made me think of all the things I could be doing to you, fucking you like you were the only thing I thought about all day. Maybe because you were,” Spencer laughs when he speaks, his hands reaching down to toy with your nipples, his fingers carefully twisting them, relishing the way you writhe under his touch. You tighten your throat around Spencers length causing him to jerk into your throat - sorta how you planned for this to go anyway. Spencers expression changes as he watches you take all of him in, his hand lightly around your neck, maybe too turned on by how the air leaves your lungs. When you pull out, spit covers your face and chin - but you just give Spencer a thumbs up and a smile, not phased at all. Spencer didn’t think he could be anymore in love with a person, yet here he was.

Spencer helps you sit back up, sitting for a few moments to readjust to the world around you. Spencer cups your jaw, pulling your face to look at him - giving you the most adoring eyes like you didn’t just take his dick all the way down your throat, well that may be the reason why. Spencer leans down to kiss your forehead, hands around the base of your neck as he does.

“Good girl,” Spencers use of that phrase is spare, only using it when he really meant it. It fills you with a certain intensity you weren’t expecting, your throat already a little sore from the endeavor. You give Spencer a small hum of approval.

“Thank you, Sir,” The honorific makes Spencer's heart ache. Spencer was a soft dom, which mostly meant that in bed you called him by his name. Sir was a sometimes thing, like when he got rough on the occasion. Sir was earned, just liked good girl was.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty girl,” Spencer asks. You do as you're told, arching your back completely for Spencer without questions. Spencer admires you, running your hands over the curves of your body, admiring the little wet spot that forms on your slit for him, cum running down your legs. Spencer wanted to fuck the shit out of you, wanted to see his cum spill out of you - as filthy as the thought was. You’d always talked about letting him go raw but Spencer was normally too cautious. You getting pregnant was much less of a consequence these days, like if anyone were to carry his baby into the world it’d be you and no one else.

If anyone got to fuck you like that, it needed to be him and no one else. That was one thing Spencer knew was so different. Spencer needed to fuck you like that, raw and shameless just like only he could. Spencers fingers are too curious for his own good, one hand around your waist to play with your clit, and the other posing two fingers inside of you - brushing up against your gspot with ease. You shudder under Spencers touch, getting fingered from the back like this wasn’t what you were expecting but you weren’t upset about it. Spencers voice is warm in your ear.

“You’re gonna have to cum one more time before I even think about fucking you,” Spencer warns. You just nod, chewing your lip as Spencer pads his fingers along you, curling them up for you to feel. He stretches you out comfortably like that, and you’re unable to really think clearly. His mouth works on your neck, biting hickies onto your throat as he does. The bruises are red and pulsating, the dark marks only bound to get darker and more visible as the days pass. Not that Spencer minded, though you did. It was a worry for later though, of course. You cum around Spencer's fingers again, unable to comprehend the level of exhaustion that seemed to come over. Still, you’d be damned if Spencer didn’t fuck you senseless. You tighten around Spencers fingers.

“Spencer, fuck - please, please,” the begging has no particulars. It’s never for anything, instead a mindless response to Spencer and his ability to turn you on this much, to the point it was all you thought about. You were exhausted but all you wanted was for him to cum inside you and make you feel so pliable. You always were, for him anyways.

“Sir - fuck me raw, please,” that last plea was a demand. Spencer groaned into your neck, nodding lightly, no response to your request. His fingers burned bruises into your waist, gripping on to you like he was gonna lose you if he didn’t. That feeling comes at you so quickly you can barely make sense of it, Spencers hands rhythmic in their ability as you convulse, cumming around Spencers calloused fingers and feeling every inch of them in you. You whine in disappointment when he pulls out. He just chuckles, taking his fingers and slipping them between your lips and down the back of your throat. You don’t choke, unsurprising to Spencer really. Saliva coats his fingers which he smears across your lips, just degrading enough for you to giggle.

“Lay on your back from me, I wanna see you,” Spencer doesn’t need to finish his sentence to say that he wants to see how his cum fills you up, such a pretty sight it doesn’t need any words for description.

You lay down, waiting for Spencer who doesn’t wait to get on top of you. That’s when you catch it again - his fucking chain. His name around your neck, hickies from you around his neck just like your name was. Spencer gets on top of you, chain hanging from around neck and all you can think is how fucking badly you needed this man inside of you. The way he had you, feeling this possessive over him made you fucking insane. You knew he’d always keep that chain on, like you were always hanging around his neck anyways but you needed to do more. You wanted to scratch his back up, steal his soul when you gave him head - everything, you wanted to do everything for that man. When he fucks you and you feel all 7inches, stretching you out - cumming inside you like he owned you because he did. So carelessly fucking you, making you cry out his name and now he had your name hanging around his neck. You’d be damned if another person even got near him.

“Say my name when you fuck me,” you request. Spencer groans, slowly doing just as he promised, hitting your cervix before bringing his hips up - ready to fuck the daylights out of you with no question. Your eyes fixated on the jewelry that adorned him as he pounded into you, your voice totally lost to you as you feel his cock pulsate inside of you. He was relentless, the sound of his hips making contact with your backside filling the room with such a filthy sound. It was filthy the way Spencer fucked you. He leans down to you, his chain resting on your chest as he hands move to the side of your face. He wants to hit you, call you his pretty slut before he fills you with his cum. You just flutter your lashes and before he can ask.

“Green,”

Spencer's hands hit the side of your face roughly, the stinging sensation rather pleasing in all reality. Spencer's voice is low, an octave lower and hoarse as he pounds you out like it was nothing.

“You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you baby? Taking all of me in, like it’s easy. What were you doing while I was gone? Bet you were getting ready for me do this to you, weren’t you. Did any of those toys you used feel as good as me,” Spencers words are callous, and degrading but you loved every second of it. You shake your head.

“Nothing was as good as you,” your response was forced out. Spencer laughs, voice tinged with something dark.

“Nothing,” Spencer pushes his hips as far as he can, making you cry out as he reached the edge “Nothing ever will be,” Spencer finished

You tighten yourself around Spencer, looping your legs around his waist to make sure all of him shoots inside you. He finishes with a loud groan, fucking the cum into you a last few times before pulling out. You’re more turned on than you know what to do with so you loop your fingers in Spencer's chain and kiss him, wet and sloppy as he finishes. He presses his forehead to yours as he kisses you, eyes locking with yours as the both you stare at eachother in euphoric post sex glow. Spencer breaks out into a giggle as he comes down, falling into you when he pulls out and you do the same.

“All this because of a chain?,Spencer asks. You just nod, placing a kiss in Spencers messy hair before sighing.

“If you ever date anyone else, I’ll be the person in prison,” you say stubbornly. Spencer just laughs a little bit more, the two of you lying comfortably as Spencer places kisses over some of the hickies he left.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love,”

----

taglist: @cynbx @zephyr-studiesjp @skrrrrrrrrrrt @reid-187 @louistwinslover @pastanest @nomajdetective @iamburdened

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds self insert #sfhajk this fic was interesting to write tbh.#idk how to feel yet #dom!spencer

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softpine · 2 years

Photo

aww i don’t think there’s anything wrong with that though!! i’m honestly terrible at making new friends especially in a work setting when i’m miserable and i’m just trying to get through the day sjdskj but also this is just fiction so don’t beat yourself up by comparison!! for an in-universe explanation, i imagine that jada got employee of the month so quickly because tony’s pizza is a very small, family-run business – they mostly just do take-out, they only have 2 dine-in tables :’) so employee of the month is just meant to be a morale boost and they like giving it to new-ish employees who have shown initiative!

@bearemiah

thank you so much omg this is so kind of you 🥺 everything i do for frozen pines is 100% for my own enjoyment and because writing is something i physically can’t stop myself from doing jsdkjs but being able to share it with you guys in a timely manner is so important to me and i always feel bad when i go long stretches of time without posting. but i truly appreciate the patience you and everyone else has with me, i’m so grateful that no one is pressuring me in any way! thank you so much for being here 💖💖

also your username is soooo cute ;-;

i can see this 100% fjksjds especially asa with the white noise 😭

eh i don’t really know what the point of a lawsuit would be.. the best way to get a corporation to listen is to boycott, but people somehow keep buying these broken packs, knowing they’re broken, and then complain when they’re broken. either p*rate or just don’t buy the packs at all, but every dollar you spend on EA’s products is another endorsement of their behavior! (sorry i got a little bitter there lmao it just drives me nuts to see people be so hypocritical)

uh... babe... he died last year jfskjds he is not walking but he IS a corpse

#don't worry none of these are about the patreon thing #i'm glad about that because i don't feel like talking about paywalls EVER again lmao #asks #anonymous #nonsims #brandi answers #bearemiah

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ssahotchhner · 4 years

Text

like real people do

PART TWO

hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:

words: 5837

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words

Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.

“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”

You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”

You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.

Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”

“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.

“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.

Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”

You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”

“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”

“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”

“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.

“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.

“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.”

“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.

Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”

“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.

“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”

“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.

“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”

Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”

Reid winces, “Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.

You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”

Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.

“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.

You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”

“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”

You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”

“Agent--”

“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”

He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.

Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”

“I screwed up, Rossi.”

“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”

“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”

Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”

Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.

***

You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.

“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you.

“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.”

Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.

***

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.

“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.

“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”

“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.

“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”

“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.

You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.

***

“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.

“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”

Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.

“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”

He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”

You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”

“We’ll be right there.”

You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”

His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”

“He’s escalated. Why?”

You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”

Hotch nods, “Good work.”

He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.

***

You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.

“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”

When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.

“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.

Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”

You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.

***

You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”

She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”

You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”

“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”

“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”

***

“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”

“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.

“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”

“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.

“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”

“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”

“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”

Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”

Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”

You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”

“You’re upset.”

You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.

You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”

He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”

You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”

And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.

***

Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”

“Hotch is upset.”

“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.

“About you, obviously.”

You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”

“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”

You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”

“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”

You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”

He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”

“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.

But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”

“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”

Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”

“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”

You sigh, “I really hate being right.”

***

“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”

It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”

“Manual strangulation.”

“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”

Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”

“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”

“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”

“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”

“That’s what I told them.”

You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”

“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”

“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”

“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”

You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.

“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”

“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”

“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”

“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”

“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”

“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Penelope.”

You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”

Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”

“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”

You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.

He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.

He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”

You nod, “Makes sense.”

“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”

You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”

He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”

***

This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.

“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.

He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.

“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”

You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”

“I just told you, from class.”

“Did you ever see them outside of class?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”

“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.

You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.

You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”

“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”

You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”

Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”

Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”

“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”

His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who know how to get what they want.”

His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”

He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”

You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”

His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”

“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”

He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.

“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.

“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”

He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”

“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”

“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”

“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.

He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”

When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”

And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.

“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”

Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”

You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”

***

“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.

“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”

Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”

“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”

Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.

***

“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”

You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.

“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”

You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.

When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.

“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.

His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”

You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”

“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”

“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”

“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”

Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”

You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”

“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.

“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.

You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.

“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.

“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #hotch fic #hotch fluff #hotch angst #hotch imagine #mine

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meloswifeyyy · 3 years

Text

Relationship Alphabet

A - Attitude

Who often has the worst Attitude ?

Well, you obviously. Most of the time because you are hungry or you and Melo just got out of an argument. Melo usually fucks the attitude out of you anywhere, anytime tho.

B - Baby

Who wants Babies the most - first ?

Melo. He often jokes about having kids or when you are having sex he would whisper in your ear “You trynna have my babies?” or “You boutta have my babies ” when he nuts in you. He says that he wants 3 or more. You only want 2. You arent rushing into it.

C - Crying

Who Cries the most in the relationship ?

You. You often cry alone when you miss Melo when he is at away games for so long. Or when your BP triggers, Melo would comfort you. When watching sad movies, or when someone you love dies. Tears of joys appear here and there. Or when you get into arguments and Melo says something wrong or disrespectful out of madness.

D - Dates

Who has the best Date spots ?

Melo. He would often take you to fancy restaurants in L.A or Miami, or wherever you guys went. Or take you shopping at an expensive place. He would do dates at home like watching movies, have you cook dinner because he cant cook for shit, or he would have a bath waiting on you.

E - Eat

Who Eats the most ?

You. You know damn well you cant survive without food. Its the 2nd best thing that has ever happened to you besides life and Melo. Cant even survive a night. If you would wake up in the middle of the night and get hungry and go to kitchen and try to sneak some food without waking Melo up, he would hear it and go to the kitchen and scare you, picking you up over his shoulder with one arm, and with the other putting the food away carrying you back to the bed because its a little to early in the morning to be eating.

F - Freak

Who is the Freakiest ?

Both of you. You being the only girl that can fuck Melo like you do, and being the only girl Melo is sexually, physically, and mentally attracted to no other girl can do it like you.10/10 in bed. Now Melo on the other hand is a demon in bed. His strokes, hitting your G - Spot constantly with you feeling it in your guts. His 9 inch is almost always on hard when he is around you. And his tongue is crazy, going in and out and on the pearl AT THE SAME TIME. Crazy right. Spelling his name out on you. He loves when you scratch his back up or give him hickeys everywhere. 10000/10. Makeup sex is the best.

G - Games

Who wins the most games ?

Melo. He would always dare you to a game of Call of Duty or Fortnite to see who would win first. And he would always win. When you would play a game of Uno you would often win and he would be mad the rest of the day due to his competitiveness. But any other game he would win.

H - Happy

Who is the Happiest in the relationship ?

Both of you. You are always happy when you guys are around each other. Even when you guys just got done arguing you are still happy that he is in your presence. Melo on the other hand is always happy with you around him, he loves to cuddle with you. Its one of his favorite thing to do. He just loves that you are in his presence. You are his other half.

I - Irreplaceable

Who is the most Irreplaceable ?

You would say Melo but Melo would say you. Melo knows how to deal with you more than anyone else does. He knows all your spots and what you like and dont like. He notices all of your flaws and sees the good and beautiful in them. He knows your body, mind, and soul. No man has a better or brighter or bigger smile than him. He always brightens the mood. You on the other hand are different. A big beautiful smile. You know how to deal with Melo when he is sad, looses a game. You can tell when he is lying or telling the truth just by looking through his eyes. You know how to make him happy. You are the best he has ever had.

J - Jaded

Who gets the most Jaded after doing something ?

Melo. He usually gets really bored after sitting in the house all day. He really wants to leave the house and do something fun but usually its night time and you would be taking a nap or would be sleep.

K - Kisses

Who gives the most kisses?

Melo. He is always so clingy and that comes with all the kisses in the world. He kisses you all over your face in your sleep, even when you are sleep he gives you kisses. He loves to kiss all over your body.

L - Love

Who fell in love the fastest?

Melo. He had always had a crush on you and everyone knew you were the one for him. You just didn’t know it until you two started dating. He’s always making sure you are good. He loves your hugs. He was the first one to say “I love you”. He want kids you to have all 10 of his kids.

M - Motivation

Who gives the most motivation?

You. When melo is going to a game and is not having a good feeling about it you motivate him to push through it and win for you. 9/10 he will win or get a lot of points for you.

N - Night Owl

Who is more of a Night Owl?

Both of you. Sometimes when his ADHD is on 10 you guys stay up and listen to music, play games, go on ig live, or just fuck for 7 hours straight. Sometimes you have to tell him to got to sleep or put him to sleep (😏) because he has a game tomorrow and needs all the rest and energy he can get. It also the same for you.

O - Oral Sex

Who gives Oral Sex the most?

Melo. Trust me, you give him head a lot and it’s amazing, 10/10. But melo loves giving you head. He loves to spell his name out on you. Loves to see the faces to make you scream and shout. Loves sharing your cream with you (🥲). He loves to climb under the blanket while you are sleep for some breakfast in bed. Maybe even dinner. His lips make it even better. So glad he don’t got them white genes in his lips (😋😭).

P - Perfect

Whos perfect?

Obviously, no ones perfect but God (🙏🏾). But in your eyes no one else is better for you except melo. You couldnt imagine living life without him. Cant imagine what anyones elses kids would look like with you but. No relationship is perfect. Melo sees you as perfect. Your body. Your style. Your personality. He absolutely loves your touch. He loves touch but for you loving your touch is an understatement. He couldnt imagine his kids with anyone else but you. Cant imagine getting married with anyone else. When you guys get into arguments and sleep in seperate rooms. You barely get sleep because all you can think about is each other. How perfect you guys are for one another.

Q - Q? (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it.)

R - Relate

What traits do you guys have a like each other?

A lot. Both of your favorite food is Chicken tacos. You both love a good game of Uno. You both love sex. Duhh. Both of you guy’s love language is touch. Love playing fortnite together. Love listening to music and taking drives together. Both love lil uzi (we pretending yall💀). Just in general you guys are very alike.

S - Sex

(No question for this one lol. Y’all already know how we is round hea nahhmeannn😭)

The sex. Omgggg. The first time you and melo had sex was. So amazing. Can’t ever forget that moment. Melo is always so horny. Morning sex is the best. Sometimes a little top at the red light can turn into a few rounds in back of the McDonalds parking lot. Lucky enough all his windows tinted as hell. Or in the Victoria’s Secret fitting rooms. You guys could be listening to Chris Brown and he would really take you down, fuck you back to sleep, switch up the tempo, or make you wet the bed (i’m laughing hard ash). The hickeys. The high sex. Drunk sex (drunnnnkkk in lovvveee). Car sex. Balcony sex. All over the house sex ( i got bars.) Mad sex and Make up sex. I could go on. Sex with me so amazinggggg. (i was listening to this song while writing this one💀😫😫😫)

T - Trips

Who likes taking trips internationally?

Melo. He love to take you and a yearly or even monthly vacay. Just you and him. Turks and Caicos. Bora Bora. Jamaica. Iceland. Japan. Africa. Anywhere where you can get away from the world. The different places. The hotels. Being able to fuck anywhere and everywhere. The pools. The different air. (united states ait is so boring). The new food. The animals. You guys love the new places. He loves to see you happy and with a smile on your face.

U - U (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it.)

V - V (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it again.)

W - Right the Wrongs

Who rights their wrongs after an argument?

Usually it would be you first. If you said something that was out of pocket or melo didnt like you woukd quickly apologize. He would forgive you and still cuddle and kiss you and stuff because thats what he does. Tease you. But he would ignore you until he actually forgave you in his head. Melo would apologize and give you some bomb ass d for and apology. Or make that cute face that you can’t resist.

X - (Can’t find a word for X. Give me a suggestion and i will edit it)

Y - Young

Who acts like a Young ass child?

Both of you actually. That’s what makes you love each other the most. The laughs and jokes, the tv shows, everything you could think of. It’s nothing wrong with it at all. Y’all are always gonna bust a joke out at the right time. Maybe sometimes even the wrong time. (damn, double homicide). You guys love laughing with each other.

Z - ZZZ

Who has the worst sleeping habits?

Probably Melo. If you scooted over him even a little bit, he would probably scoot back closer to you or pull you back over to him. And the only con of that is he snores a lot. (Why this nigga snore with his mouth open?🤨💀). Sometimes if he was awake and you werent he would kiss all over you. He loves to lay on your 🍒.

Y’all welcome. I haven’t pose the one of these in a minute. This took me a whole month and a half. I’m tired as hell. 💀

#lamelo ball #melo imagine #lamelo imagine

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