#grant x thomas

[wally-franks-stan]

Normally this would not be posted here but it’s based on a meme. So

[thesillyestwilly]

Me when I see my little princesses 🥰😍 (They are full grown men and most of them are mentally ill and would probably kill me if I got near. The others aren't even human 💀)

[mrs-kmikaelson]

01| The Grey Area

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader Summary: You meet Aaron Hotchner and he makes you see everything in colour; he makes you feel like you're the only girl in the room. But then, as you find out that you're not, you realize the colour he actually makes you see the most is grey. Warnings: emotional and physical cheating, forbidden love affair, reader is in government, cm level violence, r is a bitch at first, hotch is a jerk, based on olivia pope and fitzgerald grant Words: 3.8K

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: is this based on scandal by shonda rhimes? yes. why? bc that was peak television. making this a series bc i need to learn how to make things other than long fics (be proud of me).

1989

For as long as you could remember, life was slow. Everything was black and white: your surroundings, your activities, your beliefs. 

And then you met Aaron Hotchner, and you started seeing things in colour.

"I'm sorry, is this seat taken?"

You barely looked up at the person, just shaking your head and continuing to twirl your pen on your desk. He sat down right after.

You didn't expect him to talk to you. In fact, you were sure your disinterest was written all over your face in bold red letters. 

"I'm Aaron. Aaron Hotchner." He held his hand out; you only saw it because he held it over your desk, not because you actually looked in his direction. 

You stared at his hand plainly before looking up to the front of the class where the professor had just stood up. "And I'm not interested," you said. Presumptuous of you, maybe, but this was Georgetown, and it was your second year. Everybody was competition, and nobody actually wanted to be your friend unless they were looking for something a little more.

It was like you could hear his frown. "I— we can't be friends?" 

Finally, out of just pure exasperation, you looked at him, and boy were you taken aback. Aaron Hotchner, as he so formally introduced himself, had dark, dark brown hair, almost black, and a jawline that wasn't too sharp nor too round. His brown eyes looked at you expectantly, confusion swimming through them. Briefly, you thought he was perfect, but that wouldn't change your stance.

Despite your short-lived awe, you deadpanned, "No, we can't."

Aaron went to open his mouth, but then the professor started speaking and it cut him right off. You looked toward the front and didn't back at him once, listening intently. You were determined to succeed above all things, and no boy would get in the way of that.

Your first lecture of the semester went fine after that. You packed up your things at the end and you were gone before Aaron could try again. You went to one more class then got ready for work without another thought of him.

During nights, you were a bartender at this place near the campus. It wasn't just college kids; it was also frequented by businessmen and other big spenders who tipped well so long as you smiled and laughed at their jokes.

The excessive flirting wasn't ideal, but the job paid the bills, and since you were doing this all by yourself, that was exactly what you needed.

You rarely saw people you knew. There were regulars, and every once in a while you might've seen a kid from one of your classes, but it wasn't something you expected often.

You certainly didn't expect to see the hot guy from Advanced Legal Research.

"Hi there, what can I getcha?" You weren't looking at the customer, busy cleaning a glass and simultaneously passing someone their drink while you spoke to them.

"Hey, you're the girl from my LAW-J 301 course"

You paused at the person's voice, both at their enthusiasm and familiarity, and looked up. When you did, you couldn't help the groan that left you. "Seriously? You, again?" Each word was enunciated slowly, accurately demonstrating your annoyance. However, you got back to what you were doing, taking your eyes off him. "What, are you stalking me, Hopscotch?"

"It's Hotchner."

This time, your sigh was accompanied by a pointed eye roll. "Duuuude." You looked back up. "I do not care. Now, what do you want?"

He snorted. "Do you talk to all your customers this way?"

You flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Just the ones that can't take a hint." He opened his mouth for a sharp rebuttal no doubt, but you redirected the conversation. "Your order, Hopscotch. Or else you're gonna have to kick rocks."

He acquiesced like it was such a hardship you were asking of him, like you weren't in a bar that he came to specifically to order a drink. "Fine. Whiskey, neat."

That, you could help him with. You grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured some into a glass for him, all the while making conversation. He wasn't special; you did this with every customer. "What are you doing here?" When you got no response, you glanced back up to see a confused expression on his face. You elaborated, "Doesn't seem like your scene." You would've said no offense, but who were you kidding? You were already abrasive to begin with.

But he didn't look offended. If anything, he looked curious. "How so?"

You slid his drink across the counter, cocking your head at him as if telling him it was stupid to even ask. "You introduced yourself with your first and last name, extended your hand for me to shake, then just now, you referred to our class with the course code." You raised a brow then. "A little formal, don't you think?"

Now he looked a little offended. "Formal? I don't think so. I'm a little old fashioned at most."

For the second time that day, you deadpanned. "You're at the bar in a suit and tie. You couldn't have made it any more obvious that you don't do this often."

He got a little red then. You think that, if he could've, he would've loosened his tie, but he just picked up his drink, taking a swig. You'd give him a little credit, though; at least he looked like he could take his liquor. "Fine," he admitted, "my friends dragged me out."

"Ah," you chuckled, "common occurrence here at GWU. You'll get used to it soon, freshie."

He furrowed his brows. "How'd you know I was a first-year?"

You grinned. "You just told me, Hopscotch."

He groaned, making you stifle a laugh. No, you wouldn't laugh at him; that'd make it seem like his presence was growing on you when it wasn't. 

You didn't need new friends, and you certainly didn't need suit-and-tie-wearing, formal Aaron Hotchner.

But he stayed there. He stayed there and talked you as you served other customers, asking you to refill his drink every now and then. You wondered where his friends were, but by the time closing came 'round, you assumed they were long gone.

He talked to you all night, you realized. 

And you didn't totally hate it.

Aaron visited you at work the next day, too. That's when you told him your name. Then you started talking to him in class. Then, before you knew it, you exchanged numbers and he was visiting you at work nearly every day.

But you were right in your earlier reservations. You and Aaron Hotchner couldn't be friends.

You just learned that too late.

2005

"Tallie, tell Gretchen that I need the files on Henderson's case by the end of the day, please."

You walked with your assistant at your side, heels clicking against the floor as you went through all the day's administrative business. Every day, Tallie went over your schedule with you as soon as you entered the building. Time was of the essence in your job, and you had none of it to waste.

"Yes, ma'am, and— if I may—"

"Oh, and contact the President's Chief of Staff. I need to meet with him by the end of the day to discuss the recent terrorist attack in London again. We need to communicate with the British government without overstepping."

"Done, and—"

"And could you please get Rob Burton on the line for me?" You turned down the hall that led to your office. "He said he has an inquiry for me."

"Well, ma'am, um—" You had just reached your office when Tallie stopped, sighing. You looked back at her, raising a brow. Sheepishly, she pointed ahead of you. "There's that."

Your brows knitted together. You turned, following her gaze to see a dark-haired man standing in your waiting room, eyes on his watch. As if he felt your presence, he looked up, and as soon as your eyes locked, you realized why he looked so familiar.

Tallie cut off your thought process. "I kept telling him he didn't have an appointment, but he said you knew him and would let him in, that it's urgent."

You let out a sigh of your own, muttering under your breath, "Somehow, I don't doubt that." It had to be urgent if Aaron Hotchner was at your office. You glanced back at Tallie, giving her a tense smile. "Thank you, Tallie. We'll raincheck that phone call with Mr. Burton?"

She nodded, giving a "Yes, ma'am," before she walked past the man in your waiting room to her desk.

Like old times, you couldn't hold back another sigh, but you got your exasperation under control before you walked up to him, if not just to be professional and keep up appearances.

"Agent Hotchner," you greeted, a faux smile on your face. "It's... nice to see you." It was like the words stung coming out of your mouth, and that was because they weren't true. If he was half as good of a profiler as you thought he was, then he'd know that.

If he knew you as well as he thought he did, then he should've known that regardless.

You didn't bother waiting for his greeting; you didn't care for it. "Let's talk in my office." Not a question.

He complied, following you into your office and shutting the door on the way in. With your back still turned to him, you momentarily closed your eyes, willing yourself to have the strength to sit through whatever it was he had to tell you.

When you had it, you turned back around, dropping all the pleasantries now that you were away from prying eyes. "What is it that's so important you couldn't say over the phone?"

He didn't answer. Deep down, you both knew it was because he could've. He didn't need to be here, but instead of agreeing with you, he nodded to the two chairs in front of your desk. "You're not going to offer me a seat?"

You scoffed. "If I did, would you take it?" You're met with silence, another answer in and of itself. It'd been six years, yet you could still read Hotch's tells like a children's book. He didn't like to say anything when he knew you were right.

You took that moment to examine him. He looked the same, just as you left him. Maybe a bit more worn, a bit more tired, and a bit more cold, but weren't you all?

Briefly, you wondered what he was thinking about you.

He got to the point, as he always did. "I have a suspect for the murders of 12 women in D.C. spanning over the past six months," he told you. "His name is Eric Clark. He's the founder and CEO of a new tech start-up here; they're calling him the new Zuckerberg." The sarcasm in his voice when he said that last bit was evident, shining through his monotonous persona.

You were aware of the murders he spoke of, and you were aware of who Eric Clark was. He was invited to some state dinner you just went to. But you didn't say this. Instead, you shrugged like it didn't matter to you and asked him, "So why are you telling me?"

If your nonchalance bothered him, he didn't voice it. He simply explained, "I need a warrant." A warrant, he said, like that sentence stood alone. What he was realling saying was, he needed a warrant, and he needed you to get it for him. More than that, he expected you to get it for him.

That forced a chuckle out of you, even though you didn't feel any humour at all. So that was why he was here; six years go by without any contact, but now that he needed something, here he was. 

You felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Hotch needing something and claiming that you were the only one who could give it to him.

"You need a warrant," you echoed, splaying your hands out in front of you. "So go take that up with a judge."

You saw a sudden crack in his calm composure. His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, so slightly you wouldn't have noticed it if you didn't know what to look for.

But you knew what to look for.

"Come on, Y/N." He said your name like you were just old friends, like this stop by your office was a normal occurence. "Everyone knows you have pull in this city."

You did have pull in this city. In fact, you had pull in just about every city in America; being the U.S. Attorney General gave you that kind of power.

So yes, you had pull, and now Hotch wanted you to pull some strings for him as if you owed him a favour, as if you owed him anything.

You didn't say this, but you were sure that your next words said enough for you. "Where's Gideon? Normally, he's the one to come knocking on my door when the BAU needs something." You found it highly unlikely that he'd ever send Hotch, of all people, on his behalf.

Hotch pursed his lips. "He's on leave."

You made a clicking sound of realization, but it was more mocking than anything since you already gathered as much. That meant he was unit chief now, and that was why he was here. So that's what it took? you thought. All it took was a promotion, obligation, and now he was here.

He was here, checking his watch in your waiting room, marching into your office and shutting the door, clenching his jaw and pursing his lips like he was the one with the right to be mad. 

You'd give it to him: Aaron Hotchner sure as hell had guts.

You circled back to the original topic. "Yeah, Hotch, that's not happening." He went to cut you off, but you stopped him by raising a hand. Your were firm as you asserted, "If you're here with me instead of with a judge, that means you have insubstantial evidence. So how about, instead of ambushing me and wasting my precious time, you go back to the drawing board?" It wasn't a suggestion as much as it was an insult.

His jaw tensed, his eyes hardening as he stared at you. "I am sorry to waste your precious time, but precious lives are at stake." Condescending as ever.

"I undersand that, but you clearly have no probable cause." Or did you forget what that was? you wanted to add, but you kept that part to yourself.

You thought, if he clenched his jaw any harder, it just might break. "I have a profile—"

"Which clearly isn't enough—"

"You of all people should understand the importance of a profile, Y/N."

You took a sharp breath through your nose. It was low of him to say that, and it was also such a profiler of him to say it, mostly because he knew it'd get you.

You weren't always the Attorney General.

Perhaps this is why you agreed. "Fine. I'll go talk to a judge for you."

He sighed, "Thank you." He said it without looking at you, then he was opening your door and walking out, and you nearly thanked him for it.

Six years had gone by.

Yet you wouldn't have been able to tell with the way your heart was racing.

You went on with your day after Hotch left, going through paperwork and dropping by the White House. You had a meeting with the President that day, the President of the United States, the most important person in the whole damn country. That was little old you that did that.

You weren't the same girl he remembered, not that girl from Georgetown who rolled her eyes at every one of his corny jokes, and he wasn't the same guy who'd sit and wait for you the by the bar, either. He was the unit chief now. And you were the Attorney General.

Things were different now. 

Or maybe they weren't.

Because Aaron Hotchner came striding into your office just later that night.

Your door flew open, Aaron walking in thereafter with a stone cold frown and determination etched onto his face. It wasn't like the Aaron you knew to frown so much, but that wasn't what you were focused on.

You immediately shot up from your chair and rounded your desk, baffled by his behaviour. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're—"

You didn't get to finish your sentence. Before you could berate him, Aaron's hand was on the back of your head and his lips were slamming into yours. Slamming was the right word. This was fervent, almost violent, like he wanted to bruise you, like he wanted to permanently mold his lips into yours.

Your eyes went wide. You should've pushed him away—you really should have. But it was like you weren't thinking. Like you were on auto-pilot, your hands automatically went to his hair, your lips moving in unison with his.

This was muscle memory. God, how could you have ever forgotten what this felt like? Like ecstasy, and butterflies, and all good things in the world. Kissing him felt like everything all at once.

But everything meant that it came with all the bad in the world, too.

Your senses came back to you as you pushed him away, stumbling backward. You were sure you would've fallen, had your desk not been right behind you. You were heaving, and he was no different.

Fuck. What did you just do?

Your eyes darted to the door, alarm flashing through them. "Tallie—"

He finished your thought, assuring you, "She's gone. I sent her home."

Relief flooded your body. She wasn't here, she didn't see anything. That was good. But then what he said actually hit you. Your eyes narrowed into slits. "You did what?" He rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to retort, but you kept going. "You sent my assistant home?"

"Yes."

You scoffed. He sent your assistant home, and he was just admitting it proudly like it was nothing. Maybe nothing was different after all if Aaron was still here, barging into your life like he owned it, like he owned you.

And perhaps he did.

"You can't— you can't just—"

"I can't what?" he cut you off then took a step closer. "I can't come see you?" Another step. "We used to see each other all the time."

You were already cornered, right against your desk. "That was before," you responded. "Before—" the rest of your sentence got caught in your throat. You had glanced down momentarily, catching sight of his hand in the process. There, something glinted in the light. A golden band.

A wedding ring.

Your chest tightened, your voice getting smaller. "Before that." Even if he wasn't a profiler, it was impossible not to notice the crack in your voice.

You didn't know how you didn't feel the ring when he had his hand on your head.

Confused, Aaron followed your line of sight, right down to his hand. When he realized what you were referring to, he sighed, "Y/N, it's not what you think—"

A humourless chuckle left you. "It never is, is it?" You could count the number of times he'd said that to you. "God, I can't believe it." You chuckled again before your laugh faded into something angrier. No, not angrier. You were furious.

You didn't know if there was even a word in the English language that could describe how furious you were.

"You—" you took a deep breath, stopping yourself from yelling. "You're doing this to me— again?"

"Y/N—"

You slapped his hands away when he tried to put his hands on your arms. You didn't want to feel that fucking ring touch your skin. "Again?!" you seethed. "What, two times wasn't fucking enough for you? You had to go and do this a third time—"

"Please, just—"

You refused to let him get a word out. "No! I don't need any more of your excuses, Hotch!" Lord knew that if you heard them, you might just believe them.

You nearly did the first time.

To think that he had just been in your office hours earlier, acting like he didn't know you, like he didn't break you down just to build you back up and do it all over again. 

He could've at least given you the courtesy of leaving you alone, but it appeared that he couldn't even do that. Still, he was defending himself, false conviction lacing through his voice. "Haley and I are separated—"

"Separated?" That forced another chuckle out of you. "Sure, and I'm the Pope."

His glare at you hardened, like he was mad at you "I'm being serious."

Another laugh. He couldn't figure out why the hell you were laughing.

"Haley, haley, haley." Your voice raised. "It's always about fucking Haley." Even when he was with you.

Especially when he was with you.

His jaw locked. "We're not together right now."

You snapped, "Tell that to the fucking ring on your finger, asshole." 

It was laughable, really. You were the Attorney General of the United States of America. You sat in one of the highest offices of the land. Yet Aaron Hotchner still had the ability to turn you into putty in his hands.

The Attorney General didn't play second fiddle to anyone.

But you'd always be second to Haley Brooks.

"Get out, Hotchner." 

"What?" He had the audacity to look hurt, confused. You didn't understand what there was to be confused about. 

You managed to wriggle yourself out of the space where you were stuck between him and your desk, walking to your door and nearly yanking it open, holding it for him wordlessly.

He scoffed. "Y/N, come on—"

You shut him down. "No. I did what you asked earlier. I got you your warrant, therefore we are done. Now get out."

You didn't meet his eyes but you felt them burning into you with the same heat that'd make an unsub crack. It was the same heat that'd make you crack, too, which was precisely why you refused to look at him.

After what felt like a lifetime of staring at you, his footsteps sounded. You didn't look up until you watched his shoes pass you. Immediately, you closed the door, locking it.

Your hand fell around the door handle, your forehead resting against the door. Briefly, you wondered what the sensation in your eyes was, until you realized it was tears.

You hadn't cried in so long.

But whenever Aaron Hotchner came around, tears seemed inevitable.

taglist: @c-losur3

[chelestials]

nothing is more humbling when you’re watching an edit of your favorite actor and then the screen goes black and you see yourself on your screen basically thirsting over them

[cande]

He's so Lana Del Rey actually

[madlittlecriminal]

MADLITTLECRIMINAL'S MASTERLIST

hello! welcome to my masterlist! this is the new & improved version as I figured the other ones that i had were getting old and frankly long. anywho, i hope you find this one easier to navigate! happy reading! :)

RULES

KO-FI

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid Masterlist

DC Universe:

Bruce Wayne/Batman Masterlist

Dick Grayson/Nightwing Masterlist

Jaime Reyes/Blue Beetle Masterlist

Jason Todd/Red Hood Masterlist

Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow Masterlist

In Time:

Raymond Leon Masterlist

Kingsman (2014 & 2017):

Gary "Eggsy" Unwin Masterlist

Lucifer:

Lucifer Morningstar Masterlist

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier Masterlist

Charles Xavier/Professor X Masterlist

Eddie Brock/Venom Masterlist

Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto Masterlist

Hank McCoy/Beast Masterlist

Hobie Brown/Spider-Punk Masterlist

Jake Lockley Masterlist

Joaquin Torres Masterlist

Layla El-Faouly Masterlist

Marc Spector/Moon Knight Masterlist

Matt Murdock/Daredevil Masterlist

Miguel O'Hara/Spider-Man 2099 Masterlist

Miles Morales/Spider-Man Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow Masterlist

Peter B. Parker/Spider-Man Masterlist

Peter Parker/Spider-Man Masterlist

Scott Summers/Cyclops Masterlist

Stephen Strange/Doctor Strange Masterlist

Steven Grant/Mister Knight Masterlist

Peaky Blinders:

Alfie Solomons Masterlist

Thomas Shelby Masterlist

Sherlock:

Mycroft Holmes Masterlist

Sherlock Holmes Masterlist

Star Wars:

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo Masterlist

Poe Dameron Masterlist

Triple Frontier:

Francisco "Catfish" Morales Masterlist

Santiago "Pope" Garcia Masterlist

Video Games:

-Alejandro Vargas Masterlist

-Astarion Masterlist

-Gale Masterlist

-Halsin Masterlist

-Karlach Masterlist

-Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Masterlist

-Leon Kennedy Masterlist

-Peter Parker (Spider-Man) Masterlist

-Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra Masterlist

[torimurphy]

🫦

[xanaxiii]

"LET ME BE YOUR DANGEROUS GIRL!"

shot inspired by the song "dangerous girl" by lana del rey (unreleased) and takes place approximately during the 1/2 season.

cw: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!! jealousy, gun threats, language and violence typical of canon

☆

The sun was slowly setting over Birmingham, and the atmosphere in the Garnizon Pub seemed strangely calm, completely unlike the typical fights and arguments that often took place there. Rays of light fell on the tables, sneaking in from behind slightly open windows, and the warmth of the room made anyone who entered feel at home.

Grace was cleaning the wooden counter, using a wet cloth to wipe the countertop, removing the stains as best she could. Apart from her, the pub was empty, the silence broken only by her humming to herself. She turned for a moment to put the rag aside, not even hearing if someone had just entered the bar.

After a moment, she was met with a gun barrel pressed against her temple. She held her heavy breath, looking away in fear. She was used to guns and death threats, but this was the first one she could remember that happened directly to her. She gripped the counter tightly, her shoulders shaking.

Y/N pressed the gun harder against the woman's skin, her fingers gripping the trigger tightly with each passing second threatening that she could just let go and let the blonde's body fall to the wet floor. Her eyes were narrowed, but she was breathing calmly, as if she knew what she was doing. As if she wasn't afraid of the consequences at all.

Of course she wasn't afraid. Born and raised on these rotten streets, Y/N would do anything to get her way. And at that moment it was about a love matter that should have ended a long time ago as she had asked for in her prayers.

However, apparently Y/N is not God's favorite, so she had to take matters into her own hands.

— What do you want? —  Grace asked, her tone quiet but her words clear. She didn't stutter, even though she was covered in cold sweat and fear.

— You know what, you stupid blonde. Or rather, who. Someone you took from me. — Y/N replied, catching her breath.

She took another step closer to her, leaning her slightly forward. Grace's nails dug into the wood of the counter with stress, her chest leaning forward.

— I do not know what you mean!

— Shh. Shut up. I'm tired of hearing that sweet voice of yours. I'm tired of the way he looks at you. —  saying this, she suddenly pulled her, appearing behind her. The gun slid down, pressing the cold metal against her rosy cheek.

— ...Are you talking about Thomas?

— About who else? Who else would you take from me, huh?

— I... I didn't take him from you. —  she whispered, gasping for breath. The cold barrel of the gun made her body shiver. Both women flinched as the pub door opened.

Thomas's blue eyes looked up at them. His heavy boots made heavy steps on the wooden floor, making the boards creak beneath him as he approached them. He put his hands in his coat pockets and sighed.

— Y/N, get away from her.

The gun was folded onto the counter and pushed to the side. Y/N rolled her eyes, pushing Grace away from her. Grace took advantage of the moment and ran to the back, leaving them alone. Thomas took the gun in his hand, looking at it and after a while throwing the bullets out of it.

— Do you want to explain to me what it was for? — he asked, looking at his sister's friend. Y/N placed her hands on the counter, sitting down on it.

— I just wanted to remove the obstacle. — Y/N replied, tilting her head to the side, looking at him through her lashes. She raised her hand, brushing his rough cheek with her fingertips.

Thomas looked at her questioningly, his vision slightly blurry. He clenched his jaw tightly at her touch, but not pushing her hand away.

— Obstacle in what?

— In our relationship, Tommy. Maybe you didn't notice, but I was doing all this to impress you. Have I succeeded? — She smiled, brushing strands of hair aside. Her hand slid from his cheek to the collar of his shirt, tugging and pulling him closer to her.

Thomas let out a heavy breath he hadn't even noticed he was holding and made eye contact with her.

— Let me be your dangerous girl, Tommy.  We both know that we are made for each other. — saying this, she placed her hand on his chest, feeling his muscles tense even through all the layers of his suit. They were breathing evenly, at the same pace, their lips were so close.

— You're crazy.

— Thank you.

She responded by placing a long, passionate kiss on his warm lips, letting him keep his hands on her hips. Y/N’s lips parted, allowing him to press his tart tongue into them, getting him addicted to her sweet taste. Their heavy breathing broke the blissful silence in the pub.

Y/N didn't need his verbal consent to know that he wanted her too. She felt it in his movements and saw it in his eyes. They were made for each other.

☆ thank you for reading!

[margarethx]

I have to admit, I kind of miss Steve as a side character in newer Sambucky fics.

I fully understand why a lot of people wouldn’t write about him at this point and if someone doesn’t want to see him mentioned ever again along Sam and Bucky... I’m fine with that. But personally I wish he was included in these stories more often, because there is a lot of roles he can take that have a potential to make the plot better.

For example, I like Steve being an oblivious idiot who is the only person incapable of noticing that his two best friends are in love - often to the point where he believes that they actually hate each other. Or a reverse trope where Steve knows them so well that he sees what Sam and Bucky are feeling before any of them realized. (I love stories where he plays the least subtle matchmaker on Earth after noticing what’s going on.)

I also need to add that Steve is basically the reason why Sam and Bucky met in the first place. And while I’m not very fond of the trope where Sam and Bucky are childishly arguing who’s a better friend... it’s still an interesting dynamic to explore, considering that each pair in this trio has an entirely different history. (Not to forget the scenarios where Sam mistakenly assumes that Bucky’s dating Steve, or vice versa.)

Finally, we have some all-time classics like: “Bucky bothering poor Steve with his rants about how cute Sam is”, “Sam stubbornly visiting Steve, even though his weird roommate acts like he doesn’t like him”, “Sam and Bucky joining forces to make fun of Steve”, and obviously “Steve regretting (not really) ever introducing his friends to each other”.

Bring this annoying old man back to my Sambucky fics. He brought so much useless (but welcome) drama with him <3

[crystcllise]

thinking about the bed touch that thomas grant’s albus does in the slytherin dorm scene with scorpius

like what do you MEAN scorpius is sitting next to him telling him he thought of albus when facing the dementors and when scorpius stands up he longingly grabs the bed where scorpius was sitting

[etheral-moon]

[shakaprio]

in church day dreaming about reading smut when i get home

[idealuk]

Not ABC 🤡ing by ...

... bringing back the middle-aged and stagnated "See me!" couple (originally from the episode in which also featured Buck discovering what love is from an old gay couple named Thomas and Mitchell) who are, once again, not actually (despite appearances) on the same page about their relationship (directly juxtaposed by Buck's pseudo parents) immediately after Buck started dating a woman who he thinks 'sees him' (a notion to which Eddie, if only physically, vehemently rebuked) only to have him broken up with her in the interim of the network switch because she wanted to keep him in a morbid stagnation (which Eddie was happily welcomed to learn) and they had Eddie enlist Buck, not Marisol (who volunteered herself to help chaperone Christopher's date), when Christopher needed advice on girls which Buck ended up not being able to actually help with whilst their talk led to Eddie and Christopher reaching greater acceptance about Shannon's death all in their first episode and stealthily establishing that Maddie also speaks Spanish so she can have semi-private conversations with her would-be future brother-in-law and nephew in the future while not even mentioning Marisol in the second episode.

Next, they're having Tommy come back for a helicopter rescue, and, from a glimpse that we saw in the promo, Eddie might have flashbacks to his traumatic past in the army because of it and who's right next to him this time around? Buck. My Charles/Thomas/Mitchell-named characters being in pivotal Buddie/Dickl(e)y episodes theory has yet to be wrong and it looks like that will still hold up with ABC's third episode.

... Never mind the increase in teasing and grounding touches and the intriguing goads in interviews like we were never given so vociferously when the show was a FOX production.

[supercap2319]

Meet the Parents

Sky x Male Reader

A/N: The reader finally meets Sky’s parents, who are quite famously known.

“Blue Eyes, I changed my mind. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all,” Y/N said as they drove closer and closer to their intended destination.

Sky took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at his nervous boyfriend. He was fidgeting with his fingers as snowflakes began to dance around him. It only happened when Y/N was upset or stressed. Tonight, he was stressed. Sky was taking his boyfriend, Y/N Peters, to meet his parents: Steve Grant Barnes and James Buchanan Barnes. Aka Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “What? Oh, come on, Baby Boy. Tonight's going to go fine. My dads will love you.”

“You mean when they find out that their son is in love with a freak who has wings coming out of his back and is basically a real-life Elsa? Yeah, I'm sure they'll be thrilled,” Y/N sarcastically said.

“You're being dramatic. My parents are just like everyone else. They have jobs. They make dinner. They do TikTok videos.”

“Right. Because everyone has parents who are literal superheroes. Your dads are Captain America and the Winter Soldier,” Y/N said.

“Former Captain America and Winter Soldier,” Sky corrected. “Besides, they know you're a good guy. I practically brag to them about what a Saint you are.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Sky smiled. “More importantly, my brother, James, likes you, and he doesn't like anyone but himself.”

“Yeah, after he threatened me with a gun or a knife shoved up where the sun doesn't shine if I ever hurt you in any way.”

Sky growled. “When we're alone later on. I'm punching him in the dick.”

“Don't do that. As funny as that would be. Don't do it on my account,” Y/N said.

“See. You are a good boy.”

“Yeah, you tell me that all the time when we're alone,” Y/N blushed as Sky smirked at the mention of their bedroom experience.

Eventually, Sky pulled into the driveway of his home as Y/N glanced at the twinkling lights inside of the house to the apple pie his mom had baked for Y/N to take over tonight in his hands.

“Are you sure they like apple pie? Is it too basic? Maybe we should head to the store and get something else?” Y/N rapidly fired his questions.

Sky put his hands over Y/N’s in order to calm his boyfriend down. “It's fine, Y/N. It's actually their favorite kind of pie.” Sky brought Y/N’s hands to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss as Y/N blushed. Sky opens the door to the driver's side and comes around and opens the door for Y/N, like a gentleman.

Sky guides Y/N towards the door of the house as it opens up and Y/N freezes in place. At first, he thinks it was Sky’s parents, and he prepares to be turned away immediately, but it wasn't. It was Sky’s younger brother, James. James had dark brown hair and had blue eyes like Sky, but his were more of a cold stormy blue. Sky’s we're like a calm, clear ocean wave.

“Dad sent me to come to check on you,” James said. He looked at Y/N and smirked.

“H-H-How are you, James?” Y/N squeaked.

“Better than you're gonna be in a few minutes,” James teases. “My Pops is sharpening his knives as we speak, and my dad has his shield ready.”

“That's it, I'm leaving!” Y/N turns around and tries to bolt, but Sky grabs the back of his shirt. “Oh, no, you don't.”

Sky turns and glares at his baby brother. “Stop it, James. Otherwise, I'll post your diary online.”

James looks pale. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me.”

“Fine. You win.” James turns on his heel and walks back into the house.

Sky turns to his shorter boyfriend. “Are you ready for this?”

“No,” Y/N sighed.

“Maybe this will make you feel better?” Sky wraps a strong arm around Y/N’s waist and pulls him closer until their chests are touching. Sky leans down and places a kiss on Y/N’s lips as the younger boy blushes as Sky kisses him silly.

They probably would have stayed like that if not for someone clearing their throat. Sky and Y/N quickly broke apart as they looked up the stairs at an older-looking version of James. It was Sky’s dad, James Barnes Sr. His metal and regular arms were crossed over his broad chest. He wore a black buttoned-up shirt.

“Hey, Pops,” Sky greeted awkwardly.

“Sky. Your dad says dinner is ready,” James Sr. says as he looks at Y/N. “You must be Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, sir. My name is Y/N Peters.”

Sky giggled at that. “Sir? Since when are you all proper and polite?” Y/N glared at Sky. “Believe it or not, Blues eyes, but I do have my moments.”

Sky’s dad smiled. “You may call me Bucky if you like, young man.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bucky Barnes sir.”

Bucky smiled. “Just Bucky. That ‘sir and Mr.’ stuff makes me feel even older than I already am.”

Sky and Y/N walk up the stairs as they enter the house. Y/N tries to keep his powers in check as he feels them rush to the surface. Stay calm. Breathe in. Breathe out. Sky grabbed Y/N’s hand and led him to the kitchen, where they saw a man with blonde hair dressed in a patriotic apron over a blue button-up shirt.

“Dad? This is Y/N. Y/N, this is my dad, Steve.” The blonde haired blue eyed male turned to his son and his boyfriend, a gentle smile on his face. “Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. Sky has told us all about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Barnes. You have a lovely home.”

Steve smiled. His blue eyes were shining with amusement. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re quite the gentleman.” Y/N blushed at that. Captain America–no–the former Captain America just gave him a compliment.

“Is it almost ready?” Sky asked.

Steve nodded his head. “Almost. Why don’t you guys go sit down and tell your father and James to come sit down as well?”

“Sure, Dad.” Sky grabbed Y/N’s hand as he gently led the younger boy away from the kitchen and into the dining room.

Steve watched them leave with a smile on his face. Looks like his eldest has found himself a keeper.

[bitchystxrk3000]

Bucky: Is stabbing someone immoral?

Sam: Not if they consent to it.

Y/N: Depends on who your stabbing.

Steve: YES??!!?

[dr-helia2]

If you know, you know♡ :)