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My third driving lesson today and well it’s not going so well…
#pre lesson#I was asking like a lot of people how good they were after doing 3 lessons#because I feel like I’m just really bad#but a lot of people were reassuring me that it’s fine#so anyway doing my lesson#everything is fine#until we have to do a right turn downhill#but I go on the curb#and then queue breakdown#like I’m sat there trying not to combust in front of this dude and he’s like you alright#and I’m like y 💧e💧s#so he drives for a bit#then I re do the turn it’s a lot better than last time#like my issue is I’m a bit anxious to use speed#so I say that to him and he’s like okay that’s fine don’t put as much speed#then a couple minutes later he’s like increase the speed#and I’m like……#I had to stop a lot and take breaks#which I felt really bad about#but I just get really anxious when there’s loads of obstructions and there are cars coming#I just hate that driving lesson have been a source of anxiety#like I shouldn’t be this anxious/nervous about them because it’s just a lesson#the urge to quit is really strong 😭😭#but number 1 this is a really valuable skill to learn#and number 2 winners never quit and quitters never win#which is a quote by vince lombardi#and might be like in a barbie song#gatherrambles#gatherbabblesaboutnonsensicalstuff
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kicking my feet and giggling over pt. 5 of nightmare academia pls bless us with another part
♥ Summary: i'm afraid you'll have a different response to this one :/ in this chapter of nightmare academia, the reader meets the team and the world crashes and burns. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]
♥ Warnings: remember those jokes kate callahan made about beating up pedophiles in her custody? yeah, we're exploring that. tws for police brutality, spencer being a dick, Angst, and a passing mention of vomit
♥ A/N: okay, it's honesty time. i don't like kate callahan. i specifically have issues with how she's written- even more specifically, i don't like a lot of her dialogue. this chapter kinda explores that? anyway, im sorry :( (big thanks to @mxcheese for the help on this one :D )
♥ Word Count: 2147
Series Masterlist
♥♥♥
You weren’t much more than a ball of nerves. Standing outside the bar, looking up at the sign, all you could feel was panic. You felt like you weren’t supposed to be there, like you never should have come at all.
So. You just stood there in the street, leaning against your car like a creeper. Spencer was already inside. They all were. All those fucking FBI agents. You bit your lip and let your nails dig into the palms of your hands.
Maybe you should leave. You could text Spencer, tell him you had come down with a sudden bout of illness. Maybe you would tell him you were projectile vomiting all over your apartment. Maybe that would kill whatever was growing between you.
You turned, grabbing the handle of the car door. Before you could open it, though, something made you stop. You could feel eyes on you. You were being watched. You looked up to see a woman staring out at you from the front seat of a black SUV. She looked a touch panicked- as if you had caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. She reached for her door just as you let go of yours. Something about this woman made you nervous.
By the time she got out of her vehicle, you were safe behind the doors of the bar.
You didn’t hesitate once inside. The second you saw Spencer- not even Spencer, the second you saw Morgan- you made a beeline for the table. Despite the anxiety you felt, you were welcomed with open arms. Literally.
A ball of colour and flower-themed hairpins flung herself at you, “Hi! Hello! I’m Penelope, we spoke on the phone!”
“Oh fuck, hi! It’s nice to finally meet you in person!” you responded, “You’re even more fabulous than you sound.”
Penelope beamed, immediately charmed by your compliment. She wrapped an arm around you and turned to Morgan, half-whispering a, “Can we keep them?”
You let out a laugh, almost forgetting your previous discomfort. You turned to gaze at the other faces around the table. Morgan and Spencer sat next to each other- Morgan with an easy grin on his face, and Spencer with a look so anxious it made you nervous again. Beside Spencer sat an older man with the most fantastic set of eyebrows you had ever seen. Beside him sat a severe-looking man with short dark hair, and beside him sat two women- one blonde, and one brunette. Neat. Totally a normal amount of people to meet in one night.
“Ah, so this is the infamous Dr. (Y/N) (L/N).”
The sound of your name caught your attention. With all the speed you possessed, you pulled something witty out of your brain, “Last I checked, that is my identity.”
Eyebrow man cracked a grin. Morgan caught your attention, “(Y/N), this is SSA David Rossi.”
The man nodded and extended a hand for you to shake. Between him and Morgan, you realized you had faced more handshakes today than you had in the past year.
“Beside him is Aaron Hotchner,” Morgan continued. Aaron Hotchner just nodded a hello, his severe look breaking to allow a nice grin to cross his features. You smiled back, trying your best to come off as polite and sweet and not completely fucking terrified.
Garcia took over for the last two introductions. With one arm still around you, she pointed to the women beside Aaron Hotchner. “Those two lovelies are Jennifer Jareau and Kate Callahan.”
Jennifer Jareau and Kate Callahan both waved hello as Penelope spoke. You waved back. If you weren’t intimidated before, you absolutely were now.
Penelope turned to you, “And this, my fine furry friends, is the lovely and terrifying (Y/N) (L/N).”
“More commonly known as the doctor who’s had my team distracted for the past few months,” Aaron smiled at you, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”
“We haven’t been that distracted-” Garcia tried to argue.
“No, baby girl, we’ve been distracted.”
“That’s my bad,” you said, giving Penelope’s arm a pat, “I’m just naturally distracting.”
“Clearly,” Jennifer said, smirking not at you, but across the table at Spencer, “Anyone who can distract Spence from spouting off statistics has to be distracting.”
You nodded, “I’ll be honest, it takes effort. It’s nothing my distraction skills can’t handle.”
The group laughed at your attempted joke, and Garcia gestured for you to take a seat next to Morgan. You were in- and good lord did you feel like some kind of spy. The agents accepted you quickly, asking you questions about what Spencer was like as a professor, and what sort of things you did to get under his skin. You gave them the answers you thought they’d like to hear. The funny answers, the sweet answers.
You did not tell them that you were scared. You didn’t tell them that you kind of wanted to slam their doctor boy into a wall and kiss him until he couldn’t stand straight, and you didn’t tell them that it terrified you.
You gave them the good answers, and asked them about themselves, and generally, it was a good set of social interactions.
You learned that Aaron Hotchner and Jennifer Jareau both had kids. Rossi had three ex-wives. Morgan remodelled properties as a pastime. Kate enjoyed cute animal photos. Garcia was a ball of pure joy.
And Spencer was quiet. He didn’t say a word and he didn’t bother to correct you on anything- he wouldn’t even look at you. His eyes stayed on his drink, on his friends, on the other people in the bar. He looked everywhere except for you.
You tried to be okay with that. For a while, you were. Then the night crashed and burned.
Kate was regaling you with a story of how she took down a pedophile. That was fine. It was all fine. Then she said, “Yep, that one just so happened to trip over his own feet right before I brought him in.”
You froze. Discomfort seeped into your bones as the group of federal agents laughed off a joke about police brutality. As someone who volunteered extensively with former offenders, at-risk youth, and many in between, well… discomfort was putting it lightly. You understood to a degree- everyone wants to beat up pedophiles. You are no exception to that. However, the difference between everyone and federal agents is that the latter are federal agents.
You felt sick. You could feel your hands shaking slightly at your sides. The conversation carried on around you- like normal, like nothing had happened. Spencer laughed. There was a gaping hole in your chest, filled with stale bar air and anxiety. It was getting hard to breathe.
You were right. You never should have come at all.
You checked your wrist, forgetting again that you weren’t wearing a watch. When you laid eyes on the bare skin of your wrist, you pulled your phone from your pocket and checked that, instead. It was just late enough for you to slip away without raising too many questions. For that, you were thankful.
“Oh, shoot,” you faked the exclamation, “It’s getting late, and I have papers to grade tomorrow. I should get going- it was nice to meet you all, though!”
“Oh, really? Do you have to go?” Penelope asked, hitting you with massive puppy dog eyes. You panicked. She really was lovely, and until that comment, you had a good time. The parts of you that wanted to stay surrendered immediately.
The parts of you that wanted to leave were fighting off a panic attack and couldn’t come up with anything smart to say.
And that’s how you came up with, “Yeahhh, I really should go walk my… fish. I’ll see you guys around, good luck with the crime!”
You didn’t give them a chance to respond. In seconds, you had cleared the bar, pushed open the door, and slipped into the night. The street was empty. The black SUV was gone. You struggled to unlock your car, keys slipping between your fingers like a fuck mothering fish. When you heard a voice beside you, you jumped.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
It was Reid, finally talking to you after a night of silence. You wanted to be petty- but more than that, you just wanted to leave, “It’s nothing. I’ll see you next week, okay?”
“It’s not nothing. You don’t have a fish, if you did Garcia would know about it.”
“Yeah, okay, I don’t have a fish. I’m just feeling kinda sick. I’ll see you later.”
“You’re not feeling sick.”
You finally unlocked your damn car. That gave you the strength to be a bit of a bitch.
“Oh, and how would you know, Reid? It’s not like you asked me. It’s not like you’ve said a word to me since I got here.”
He had the audacity to look shocked. He paused for a second. In the silence, you pulled open the driver’s side door. He placed a hand on it, stopping you. He winced when you glared at him, but your gaze didn’t soften. He didn’t deserve that.
“Okay, I’ve been quiet tonight. I’m sorry. But something is wrong with you, too. What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing,” you slammed the car door shut, “Y’know, it’s good, actually.”
You opened the door and slammed it shut again.
“What? (Y/N), what are you talking about?”
“It’s nothing,” you opened and slammed the door, “I just remembered that we come from different worlds, Reid. Different universes. You come from a place where you go to report a crime, and the police take care of you because you’re an affluent white boy and you’re a cop. I come from a place where if something happens to me, I can’t go to the police because they’ll either treat me like I’m a criminal, or the first question out of their mouths will be, ‘What were you wearing when it happened?’”
“I- I don’t follow.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t, you’re a cop.”
“I’m-”
He looked confused. You slammed the door shut again. You decided to elaborate for him.
“It’s about Kate, Reid. Look, I get it. She likes to beat up pedophiles. Everyone wants to beat up pedophiles. That’s why most of them get their faces bashed in in prison- but the difference between us and Kate Callahan is that she’s a Federal Agent. She has a responsibility, not only to the public, but to the victims to carry out each arrest like a professional so that she doesn’t lose any cases or cause undue bodily harm to an innocent person by mistake. And shit- look me in the eye and tell me the FBI has a perfect track record with arrests. Even if she does, the rest of you don’t.”
He paused. His eyes searched your face desperately. You weren’t sure what he wanted to find. You opened the door again. This time, he didn’t stop you, and you didn’t slam it shut. A look of resignation took over his features. Whatever he was looking for, you assumed he’d found it.
“What would you know about being a professional? What would you know about being a Federal Agent? You aren’t one, (Y/N). And you aren’t a cop. You don’t know anything about police work. You’re just an academic- and you aren’t even good at that. That’s part of why you act out. You’re insecure about your own intelligence, you’re insecure about your place in the world, and you have every reason to be.”
Reid looked at you expectantly. He wanted you to snap. Maybe he wanted you to break. Too bad for him. If he wanted to hurt you, if he wanted to win the prank war, he should have pulled some Carrie shit back in the bar. Honestly? You would rather be covered in pig’s blood.
You refused to meet his eye. You wrapped your hand around the edge of the car door until it hurt. You smiled.
“Thank you.”
“What?”
“I said, thank you. Thank you for reminding me what this is. Thank you for reminding me that despite how close it feels we’ve gotten, we are two complete strangers. You may think you know me because of your bullshit profiling and an invasive background check, but you don’t, and you never will. I’m no one but a colleague to you, Dr Reid. That’s all I’ll be for the rest of my life.”
You pushed away from the car door and left it open. You didn’t stop until you were chest to chest with Reid. He stumbled backwards into the street like a scared animal. You refused to feel bad about that. The thing growing between you was already dead.
“Now get the fuck away from my car, and stay the hell away from me.”
♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#x reader#nightmare academia
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High and Low: At World’s End - Prologue
Location: Shopping Mall 1F Characters: Tetora, Hajime, Tomoya, Midori & Mitsuru Season: Autumn Writer: Akira
TL Note:
Tomoya’s surname can mean “pure white” or “blank”.
< The first year ES was established, in the latter half of October at the mall. >
Mitsuru: We’re going to Australia for our school trip!
Wait, where’s Austlara again?
Tomoya: You didn’t pronounce that right, Mitsuru.
Mitsuru: Hajime-chan, do you know about Auryurolia? You’re pretty smart, so you should know about stuff like this, right? ♪
Tomoya: Don’t ask Hajime about everything you don’t know, Mitsuru. Just leave him alone for now, he’s frozen stiff after hearing that we’ll be going overseas for our school trip.
Hajime: ………
Mitsuru: Hajime-chan, what’s wrong? You don’t feel so good? Alright, I’ll give you a piggyback ride~!
Hajime: W-Whaa, please don’t~! It’s embarrassing in front of so many people…!
I’m happy you were worried about me, but I’m okay, really.
Mitsuru: Hajime-chan, you have a habit of saying you’re fine when you’re really not, though.
Tomoya: You sure know him well. Hajime must be really anxious since it’ll be his first time going overseas.
It’s pretty much the same for me too, so I’m a little uneasy since I don’t really have any experience…
Sena-senpai basically dragged me to Florence against my will, so it didn’t really feel like a trip at all.
Mitsuru: It’s totally my first time~! But don’t you get all excited ‘cause it’s the first time? I’m super excited!
Tomoya: Sure, you might be, but while we’re buying all the things we need for the trip, I can’t help but imagine all the bad things that could happen.
I can’t really communicate in English, I don’t know if my body can handle the food there and what happens if we get robbed or some kind of issue crops up?
To me, going overseas is like going to some place bad and scary.
Mitsuru: I don’t think it’s as bad as Yumenosaki was last year, though?
Tomoya: You can say some pretty brutal things, huh, Mitsuru. The stuff you’ve been saying feels weirdly twisted in a way.
Mitsuru: Hm~? I’m always the same-old me, though, y’know?
I’ll always be running down the path I made at full-speed~! Dash dash dash~!
Hajime: Y-You’ve run past the shop, Mitsuru-kun~ Actually, you shouldn’t be running indoors like this.
We’re now older second-year students now, so we should behave in a, um, modest way? How do I put this? Behave with more social etiquette…?
Tomoya: Guess you’re not really made out to be lecturing others, huh, Hajime.
Hajime: Uuu~ I can get really angry with my little brother and sister, but Mitsuru-kun’s Mitsuru-kun and I don’t know what’s the “right” way to do it.
Anyway, putting that aside. What you said was a little extreme, Tomoya-kun, but I didn’t expect our school trip to be overseas.
So I’m a bit flustered. It feels like the inside of my head has turned into Tomoya-kun.
Tomoya: So your head’s gone completely blank[*], huh.
Hajime: Ehehe. …Up until last year, the school trips were always to Kyoto, so why did they suddenly change it?
Tomoya: Yeah, you’re right~ We all got surprised because it was so sudden. Our travel expenses can’t even compare to a school trip domestically, so do we even have the reserve funds for it?
Hajime: Ah, you don’t have to worry about me in that aspect. I was so anxious I checked the information over and over.
It seems this year’s school trip will be completely subsidised by ES.
In exchange, there’ll be some sort of work waiting for us in Australia during the school trip, though.
Tomoya: Looks like ES has dabbled in another of the school’s events, huh. Great. The Sports Festival was a huge mess because of that.
Hajime: Ahaha… You really did your best at the Sports Festival, “Leader”. The NewDi team won in the end, but I think you were amazing for working so hard, Tomoya-kun.
You were on TV too so I’m sure you gained a lot of new fans because of that.
Tomoya: That would be nice if that’s true.
It's just that, I don’t really like ES meddling with the school’s affairs and I don’t want everything related to work to be tied to them all the time.
Our stage this time is overseas, anyway. Even if issues arise, it’s not like our reliable upperclassmen can run to our help like always.
I’m worried~... I wanted to enjoy our school trip in a more honest and normal manner.
Hajime: Fufu. I’m full of worry and confusion right now too, and I might not look it, but I’m actually pretty happy.
If it weren’t for this opportunity, then I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance to go overseas.
I’m happy to see a rare opportunity like this has come my way.
Tomoya: You’re surprisingly optimistic, Hajime~
Hajime: I should probably have more of a sense of urgency, though…♪
All I can do is pray for it to be an unforgettable trip – one that will have no issues and be filled with fun.
No. To achieve that, that’s why I’m talking with everyone here, face-to-face, and preparing all the things I need.
Tomoya: Yeah, you’re right. It’ll be nice if we can look back on these anxious times and think it was a “good memory”, huh.
Mitsuru: …Yeah?
Tomoya: ? What’s wrong, Mitsuru? The store selling suitcases is over here, you know~?
Mitsuru: Look, Tomo-chan, Hajime-chan! “RYUUSEITAI” is over there!
Hajime: Huh? Are they performing a hero show or something like that at the mall…?
Tomoya: Probably not since they’re in their school uniforms but–
Tetora: ……! ……!
Midori: ……!
Tomoya: What’s happening over there? It looks like they’re arguing about something.
Mitsuru: Wahaha! Looks like there are issues going on even before the trip started, y’know!
Hajime: T-That’s not something you’re supposed to laugh at, Mitsuru-kun~
Next Chapter →
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I affectionately blame @mega-punani for the brain-rot from their UT One Piece AU:
Name: Scarlet (Preferred Nicknames: Scar, Scarly)
Biological Sex: Female
Gender Identity: Demigirl
Pronouns: She/They
Romantic/Sexual Identity: Demiromantic Demisexual
Occupation/Education: Doctorate in Medicine and Doctorate in Toxicology; Is fully educated in Monster Medical Practices
More about Her (Including my sloppy reference doodles of her) under the read more:
Species: Mermaid, Type: Lionfish (posing as a Human)
Age: 30 (she keeps her tail split)
Body: Mainly Pale Skin, it has a sun-kissed tan that she applies proper amount of high spf sunscreen onto; 5 feet 1 inch or 1.55 meters tall; sturdy, curvy but chubby body- the body fat is athletic fat, she’s proportionate, and she’s much stronger than she looks (like she could carry full barrels no problem and able to break human bones with barely any effort, she’s holding back her strength constantly); her nails and hair can act as poison spines if she wills it; she has a soft, round, baby-faced… er, face, but has a long, jagged scar on the right side of her face that runs from her forehead, down her eye- her right eye being partially blind from said injury- and ends at just barely past the corner of her mouth.
Clothing: Collared White Shirt with pearl-like iridescent coloring, sleeves have a ruffle that cascades from the elbow to about the wrist; Dark Brown or Dark Grey loose fitting- but not too baggy- pants to hide her split tail, multi-belt things that hold multiple Sea Prism Stone lined bags/pouches that hold money, medical supplies, regular supplies, poisons, and personal items that she holds dearly; Fingerless Gloves to hide her webbed fingers; Black practical boots to comfortably walk/run/move in as well as hide her tail fin in them; a Sea Prism Stone lined strap that goes across her torso for carrying her weapons, more poisons and medicines, and more medical supplies.
Hair: Long, Scarlet with off-white stripes; resembles lionfish spines/fins; almost always has her hair in two braids.
Eyes: Really Dark Brown, almost looking Black.
Likes: Sweet foods, Savory foods, Salty foods, Food in general (a bit of a glutton; neutral on sour and spicy foods), Music, Singing, Dancing, Helping People, Healing People, Honesty, Genuine Emotions/Vulnerability, Swimming (duh), Tinkering/Inventing, Searching for stuff underwater/Treasure Hunting, Poetry, Harmless Jokes/Puns/Harmless Pranks/Humor overall ("Laughter is the best medicine"), a good story, good company, a good drink/good booze, good weed (uses it both recreationally and medically)("Do you smoke?" "Smoke what~?" >:3c), Fancy/Pretty Jewelry/Clothes (never has the money for them).
Personality: Kind, sweet, and caring, but a bit bitter, cynical, and jaded; a worrywart and can mother-hen a bit; can fluctuate between the patience of a saint and ‘I’m so DONE with Y’ALL’ at whiplash-inducing speeds; has trust issues; if you over-exaggerate and/or are a drama-queen about an injury/illness/etc, she’ll tell you ‘walk it off and shut up’ but she can/will carry/drag you to the med-bay if you’re injured/ill/etc but try to get out of it (examples: “I’m fine” “it’s just a scratch” “I’ll rest when I’m dead”); has a strong desire to help/heal those around her and wants to become one of the best doctors in the world; god help you if you get her angry, but it takes a while to get her there; is mostly honest, but knows when to lie/not give out information/etc; anxious, but hides it well (lots of internal panicked screaming); has a good sense of humor: various jokes/puns, including medical ones, fish jokes/puns post reveal.
Weapon(s): 13.5 inch Tactical Bowie Knife with a serrated edge, a Harpoon with a rope attached to the one end and a detachable/replaceable tip, and one long range/sniper dart gun and one short range/pistol dart gun (both dart guns use pressurized air/air pressure to fire the darts).
Dislikes: Bitter foods- especially olives, Liars/Disingenuous People/Disingenuous interactions (knows that lying/manipulation is sometimes needed but still doesn't like it), crappy booze, how expensive medical supplies can be, creepy perverts who hit on her/still hit on her even though she's made her disinterest obvious, racists/bigots/prejudice people, the Marines/World Government as a whole.
Fighting:Merfolk Blade/Combat Knife Fighting Style, Merfolk Spear/Trident/Harpoon Fighting Style, Minor Pole-arm Fighting Style, Dart Guns- short and long range- are more for support and/or a last resort, Black Belt in Merfolk Martial Arts, Black Belt in Merfolk Water Combat Arts.
Hobbies: Art/Drawing/Painting, Tinkering/Inventing, Dancing, Singing, Drumming, Gardening/Growing Plants, Creative Writing, Treasure Hunting, Writing Music/Songs.
Other Skills: Cooking/Baking (Good at it), Nutritional Planning (Really Good at it), Minor Navigational Skills (better at sea), Minor Shipwright Skills, Minor Meteorology Skills (better at sea), Minor Building/Mechanical Skills, Tinkering/Inventing (Good at it), Singing (Amazingly Good at it; Like, She’s been mistaken for a Siren and- if she decided to change careers- could very easily become a famous singer), Fishing/Hunting (Amazing at it), Lying/Manipulation (Slightly Above Average), Genuine Flirting (Is Okay at it), Art/Drawing/Painting (Good at it; never has enough funds for good quality supplies- always got the cheap stuff), Poetry (Above Average), Dancing (Great at it), Gardening/Growing Plants (Good at it), Drum Instruments/Drumming (Really Good at it).
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this all sucksssss so bad life is so shit sometimes.
forgot if i talked about it here but like. with everything going on in my life and being financially responsible for an Entire House now, I came to the awful shit terrible decision to rehome Rain. tldr I know she could do great in some kind of lesson program where she’ll be worked like every day, she’s so sweet and friendly, can be a little fussy but I really feel like with consistent work (which I can’t really provide, especially with 2 horses), she’ll do a lot better. There’s just so many issues with trying to sell her otherwise, she’s older and a lot of people don’t want that, etc etc, so I’m just rehoming her. There’s a great barn about an hour away with an awesome lesson program and an accredited trainer, she came to see her with one of her adult students yesterday and they want her. The student lady kept saying how beautiful she was, she seemed really taken with her. The really selfish part of me is like, “well I could get money for her”, but what is most important is that she go somewhere she’ll be happy and live up to her potential which I know she has.
And I sit here like “this problem isn’t real, what a first world problem to have to get rid of ONE of your TWO HORSES” which I know isn’t true and isn’t fair to me at all. I’ve convinced myself that it’s the right thing to do - because it really is - but that doesn’t make me feel any better. I know people sell horses all the time, even in my situation where I’ve had Rain for 7 years. And I did put in the contract I made up that I get right of first refusal, and also asked the lady taking her beforehand, so if she wants to get rid of her or if she winds up not being right for the program or whatever, she would come back to me. It’s not an emergency that I need to rehome her, but I don’t want it to ever get to the point where it is.
It just sucks and I can’t stop crying and these are the times I hate being alone forever in this house with no one to talk to about shit like this. Though I have talked to my friends at the farm and they think I’m doing the right thing, they know I’m not getting rid of her for any kind of selfish reason, or anything like that. And everyone agreed with me that Rain would be great in some kind of program with consistent work.
It’s just going to be so weird going to the barn and not seeing her in the field with Rogue. Obviously I’m keeping Rogue - she’s the kind of horse where like, she’s been through so much shit, I don’t want to put her through being rehomed again. Rain can go anywhere and be fine and would honestly benefit from a different owner who can give her more. Rogue has such a bond with me, and pretty much only me, and it just wouldn’t be right to send HER off somewhere.
This is the part that makes me feel slightly bad but. I started considering this when I rode Rogue a couple weeks ago. Like Rain, she had sat all winter. Rain tends to be a little high strung when riding, she goes a little fast and gets anxious out on trails. I think she would absolutely get so much better if she was ridden more.
But Rogue isn’t like that. Once she got over her Big Trauma of moving here and I bonded with her, she does not act nervous at all when being ridden. No hyperventilating like she used to do, or like Rain STILL does. She was still calm after months of not being ridden. I think she���s just a better match of a horse for me, despite being still a bit green. She tends to go very slowly and prefers to stop randomly, rather than speed up because she’s nervous, like Rain does. And that feels like something I can work with a bit more. I hope that made any sense at all.
Rain is 22, but I feel like she could still give so much more, especially to learning students in a program. Consistency is key with her. I stressed to the woman taking her that Rain has NEVER been dangerous - no bucking, no bolting, none of that. She can just be fussy, and it’s a fussiness I think can be worked out. But I don’t really have the time/energy/stamina to do that. Rogue doesn’t have that fussiness, just a bit of laziness to work out of her. And for me, that’s a much better angle.
I wish none of this was happening but man that’s life. It fucking sucks so much though. I was really angry about it a few days ago but now I just feel sad. I think the worst part is the shock because I reached out to this lady who was actively searching for a horse, she came out to see her 2 days later, and a couple hours after that told me she wanted her. I want to take that as a “meant to be” sort of thing, that this will be a great home for her. And I’m sure it will be.
I know I need to allow myself to be sad. It does suck. But I feel like maybe, with the pressure of having 2 horses alleviated, I’ll be able to put more time into Rogue without feeling bad about less time being spent on Rain. Rogue seems a lot more like the chilled out trail horse I’ve always dreamed of, since I ride super casually and prefer going out on trails to being in the arena. Rain is the opposite and will even physically fight me when I try to get her to walk out of the arena LOL. Rogue, meanwhile, will stare outside when we’re in the arena and constantly head toward the gate.
I’m also an external thinker type of person and I need to write everything out like this and talk about it to get it all off my chest. Hence this wall of text.
I just hate it. Booo. Fuck.
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Yanderes! Leona, Jack and Malleus in heat with their reader friend
HAHAHAHA EVIL LAUGHTER. Finally…. I’m getting around to this request….. i guess i might make this less “headcanon-y” and more ficlets? Scenarios? Idk? First time trying this out so here we go!
This piece of writing is purely for 18+ audiences only. Minors do NOT interact.
Pairings: Leona Kingscholar x Fem! Reader, Jack Howl x Fem! Reader, Malleus Draconia x Fem! Reader
Warnings: SMUT, yandere, dubcon/noncon elements, coercion, unhealthy relationships, breeding kink(?), talk of pregnancy, dark content
Leona Kingscholar
The botanical gardens was a usual hangout spot for you and your lazy friend Leona. However, when you arrived at his favorite napping spot under a specific tree, you felt something was off when he wasn’t there. You definitely knew he wouldn’t go to class unless there was some kind of exam. Was it something serious? ‘Where are you?’ You texted Leona and sent the message. After waiting a bit, your phone buzzed and Leona had replied. ‘Screw off. Leave me alone for a while.’ the text read on your screen had you feeling worried about the beastman. He was your friend - and you knew something had to be up.
The speed-walk from the gardens to Savanaclaw was a bit anxious, your body was starting to sweat as you worried about Leona. You didn’t even think to text his dorm mates like Ruggie or Jack to ask what was wrong. Once you finally made it through the mirror to his dorm, you rushed to eventually make it to Leona’s door and knocked. You were met with a loud snarl and a gruff voice. “Who the hell is it?! Go away.”
“Leona-san, I’m coming in!!” You quickly barged in, chest heaving up and down from the worry you felt. The door slammed behind you before you could even recognize what was going on in front of you.
“Leona-san! Are you okay?! I- Oh…!” Your field of vision was immediately met with Leona sprawled on his bed with his shirt off and his blanket covering up to his waist. His hand was lazily pumping up and down his length from underneath the blanket and it was so painfully obvious. Leona was panting heavily and eyes were half lidded.
“You… what the fuck are you doing here, herbivore? I told you not to come!” Leona spat from across the room, making you recoil in fear from your spot. You gulped and blushed, turning away.
“I- I’m sorry,” stammering, the words just really seemed to have a hard time finding a way out of your mouth. “I just, I thought it was something I could help you with, so I’m gonna go now!! Sorry for interrupting!!”
You quickly tried to turn around and walk back out, but didn’t realize Leona was coming closer to you only seconds prior. Your wrist was grabbed harshly and you were being yanked until your back thudded onto something hard - Leona’s chest. It was so toned and warm, you were almost tempted to lean back into it.
“Hn, I change my mind. Maybe this is something you could help me out with, herbivore...” His low and sultry voice almost purred the words into your ears sending heat to your clothed cunt. As if on cue, Leona’s calloused fingers made their way to rub at the crotch of your pants, making you squeak involuntarily.
“Leo-naa..!” you shrieked out his name, half of it turning into a moan. He growled at the noise of his name coming out of your mouth.
“Heh, it looks like you’re forcing me to do something a bit unforgivable.” The dark tone in his voice made you gulp hard. “Herbivore… I was really trying to hold back, find the perfect time to make you my mate, I even had preparations to take you away to stay with me. It was the perfect plan.” The weight of his words caused you to tense. Almost sensing your unease, Leona decided to dip his warm fingers into your pants and underwear to rub at your needy clit. You gasp and cover your mouth instantly, afraid of the noises Leona would pull out of you. Leona growled as his other hand slapped your arm away from your face.
“Don’t cover up your noises herbivore, if you know what’s good for you.” Leona angrily muttered against your ear, sending waves of panic through your system. The wet squelching sounds were only growing louder as well as your moans. “Leona-saahn~ haaah,” you threw your head back into him as he plunged two fingers into your pussy.
“Hm? Don’t tell me you love being talked to like that? Does it turn you on, slut?” Leona’s smooth voice invaded your senses and only spurred you on further. “Y-yes, Leona-san!!” you were now a moaning and squirming mess. Leona guided you to the foot of his bed and pulled his fingers out of you, pushing you onto the mattress.
“This is gonna be fun, herbivore. I really, really should have done this sooner...” Leona whispered, almost to himself. Your face was sweating and you stared up at Leona helplessly, feeling his large erection grazing your thighs as he caged your body with his own, like a predator rearing to devour his prey.
Jack Howl
Vargas’s outdoor gym sessions were always difficult - even more so since you couldn’t use magic. Wanting to utilize your skills to its capacity in his class, Vargas forced you to do more physical training than the other students. Those trainings always left you and your clothes hot and sticky with sweat. Being the only female student in the school, you were also the last person to use the locker rooms, with one of your first year friends near the door to protect you and your privacy. Today was Jack’s turn and everything was going smoothly, to your knowledge. As you were idly thinking about the ways you would prepare dinner tonight, you didn’t realize how much trouble you were really in.
The door to the locker room slowly creaked open as you peeled off the layers of your gym uniform. Heavy footsteps echoed and forced you to pause all of your activities. “J-Jack..?” you whimpered, worried about who was going to catch you half naked. As the steps came closer to your location you couldn’t help but start to shake in fear.
Jack’s white hair and ears peeked around the corner of the lockers making you jump and hide your body in your arms. “O-oh!! Thank goodness, it’s just you!” You sighed in relief. Jack could only grunt in a noise that sounded like approval. Jack didn’t look too good, his cheeks were red and he looked like he was panting - like he had just finished running a race.
“Uhm, Jack, are you okay?” you shuffled uncomfortably in your spot as Jack’s gaze was still fixated on your body, your arms still covering yourself.
“Listen, I uh, I have to change, Jack…” you trailed off and looked away, hoping he would get the idea. He didn’t.
Instead, Jack slowly sauntered towards your smaller form. You didn’t even realize you were walking backwards until your head and clothed backside touched the cool lockers behind you, the sound of locks and metal catching you off guard. Taking your moment of surprise as an opportunity, the beastman rutted his hips towards your sweaty body, the friction causing him to groan right in your ear. The noise sent heat down to your core, shame and fear filling your head as you gasped.
“You smell so good right now, Y/N…” Jack said lowly, his breath was so hot in your face it felt like a sauna. He dipped down to your neck and licked a long wet stripe up your skin.
“Aah! What are you doing, Jack?! Th- this isn’t like you!” You shrieked, hoping your voice would get to him somehow.
You yelped as Jack lifted you briefly, only to set you down on his lap to straddle him as he sat on the locker room bench. He grunted as your clothed cunt momentarily made direct contact with his erection that was still in the confines of his pants. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth, yet your beastman friend believed to sound like honey. Gold eyes bore into yours as he panted and lifted his hips back up to meet yours. “Nngh~!” You buried your face into his neck.
“I’m, haah, sorry, Y/N. I can’t, I can’t help it right now. I like you so much it hurts. I need to touch you, nnh- to make you feel good.” His confession was sudden as he guided your hips to grind on him, lewd moans and whines being forced out of your body with every movement. You couldn’t help but blush and grip onto him tighter, chasing your own inevitable release.
“Mmh- Jack, please.” You whined into Jack’s ear. Your panties were soaked and he could feel the juices soaking into his uniform. “I’m gonna fill you up with my pups.” Jack growled into your ear as he was losing sight of his own self control.
Malleus Draconia
It was odd to receive a text from Lilia to come to Diasomnia’s dorm. Once he said it was an issue involving Malleus, you told him you’d be on the way immediately. Curiously enough, Lilia never answered your text about what was wrong with Malleus, he only mentioned that he requested you specifically. Reaching the dorm, you noticed the skies were particularly cloudy and grey, and green lightning bolts were littering the skies. You ran inside quickly to be greeted by none other than Lilia himself.
“Ah, Y/N, finally you’re here!” The bicolor haired student welcomed you warmly. His tone was much different than his serious one he used over text.
“I’m here, where is Malleus? What’s wrong with him?” You asked, looking around the dorm. It was seemingly more empty than usual.
“Oh don’t worry! Come, I’ll lead you to his room…” Lilia walked with you to Malleus’s dorm room, when he stopped in front of the door. Suddenly, a darkness had taken over his facial expressions. “I’m... sorry for what I’m about to do, Y/N.”
“What do you mean, Lilia?” You stood as stiff as a board in your spot, dumbfounded.
“Be safe.” Lilia’s words went over your head. Suddenly, the door was opened as he shoved you into Malleus’s room, promptly locking it once you were inside. You banged on the door with both fists.
“Hey!! Lilia!? Let me out!!” Panicked, you felt the atmosphere in the room was… heavy. Looking behind you to Malleus’s bed, a large black mass had taken form on it.
“Child of man…” You could hear Malleus’s voice from every corner of the room, especially focused from the direction of that black mass. Suddenly, wings uncurled and revealed Malleus, or a creature that heavily resembled him. Along his face were black scales that focused on the edges of his face. A tail was swishing behind him aggressively. Malleus’s arms were now scaly and long nails replaced his short black polished ones. And with those black claws, he used an index finger to beckon you towards him. “Come closer.” He breathed.
You felt your body move on its own, as if you weren’t even controlling it. “Malleus, what’s wrong?” You whispered, not even sure if the words had come out of your mouth. Once in front of him, you stood awkwardly and fiddled with the sleeves of your uniform. “Is there something you need from me?” You breathlessly spoke, avoiding his piercing gaze.
“I requested you for a, specific, reason…” he cooed and pulled you into a tight and awkward hug you didn’t reciprocate. Then you felt it. Something hard and large was poking at your stomach, causing you to gasp suddenly in realization. “It seems like you’ve caught on. Well, my sweet Y/N, you don’t want to keep your prince waiting, do you?”
“Strip.”
“What..?” You asked dumbly.
“You heard me, I said strip. Now.”
“I, I heard you, I just-,” you stepped back, and began to take off your clothes slowly. You stopped at your simple bra and underwear, hoping that was enough to appease him. It didn’t - but it was something he could rip off later.
Grabbing your shoulders and bringing you in close, Malleus’s teeth latched onto your neck, biting hard enough to draw blood. You moaned unexpectedly and held onto his neck, unknowingly pulling him in closer. “Ah, M-Malleus, no..!” Your voice shook.
Instantly, Malleus threw you down onto the bed and straddled your lower half, pinning your wrists above your head. His wings extended above you as his green eyes pierced into yours. The fierceness alone took the words out of your mouth as you stared up in fear.
“Don’t even think about fighting me back. You will surely regret that choice and I don’t want to hurt you, unless you deserve it. So be a good girl for me, while I breed you over… and over… and over again.” You watched in horror as his tongue, now long and forked, laved over his bottom lip in hunger and excitement.
“Well now child of man, doesn’t that sound exciting? Let’s get started right away.”
#yandere malleus draconia#yandere leona kingscholar#yandere jack howl#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#twst smut#leona kingscholar x reader#jack howl x reader#malleus draconia x reader#leona kingscholar smut#jack howl smut#malleus draconia smut#twst imagines#twst x reader smut#jack howl#leona kingscholar#malleus draconia
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okay i know you probably have lots of prompts already but. listen; 28 and 41 with my Phantom Thief MK AU (well its more of a phantom thief everyone au but yeah)
So I maaaaay have been a smidgen inspired by one very specific post you made about this AU and Sun Wukong's first successful heist... I couldn't resist, it was just too funny.
You call this luck? No, this is all skill./Can you teach me how to do that?
"Can you teach me how to do that?"
The question wasn't an unusual one between the two of them. MK had asked this of Sun Wukong on more than one occasion as successor to the Monkey King as the Monkie Kid himself.
No, what was unusual was that the question came from the opposite person.
"Teach you... what, exactly?" MK asked, trying not to feel too smug about the swap in roles between mentor and apprentice. After all...
Someone had to teach Sun Wukong the finer points of Phantom Thievery.
"You know what," Wukong said with a half scowl, gesturing to way that his student (or, for the moment now that the question was asked, his teacher) was rolling an large pendant between his fingers. "Not the... you know, what you're doing now, but what you did with the pendant on your last heist where you threw it at a guard and it kind cracked in the middle with the smoke and light and stuff."
"OH," MK laughed out, tossing up and catching the coin in his opposite hand. "That's not really a trick or anything, just some incredibly strong flash paper, and other stuff, that's activated when you open it the right way."
In demonstration the young Phantom Thief did something in the way he held the pendant and one end slipped up with a soft cracking sound. Then he did something else and it open like a clam shell. He held it out to the elder, letting him see the inner workings and how it had latches and some kind of folding wall between the two sides.
"Opening it causes a chemical reaction between the two compartments. The real trick is getting everything inside without accidentally activating it on yourself, practicing the opening motion, knowing when to open it, and aiming it just so that it blinds your target at just the right moment. You know, this is probably just the right time to teach you how to use lines to keep this stuff in your sleeves and retract them too! So..."
As MK launched into a lengthy explanation on how this particular bit of his Phantom Thievery repertoire worked he failed to notice the slowly growing smirk on the Monkey King's face.
~
"What, uh... what ya got there?" MK asked, very obviously trying to keep an impassive and non-judgemental expression. And failing.
"... smoothies," Wukong answered, absolutely not hiding what he was holding in his tail behind his back as he offered one of the two drinks in his hands to the younger.
It was a poor attempt at lying, which was odd because MK knew that Sun Wukong was pretty good at lying. He had managed to convince the other that he had no idea his successor was a phantom thief for so long after all. But why in the world he seemed to be hiding a... pillow of some sort behind his back was anyone's guess.
"Why'd you bring smoothies?" He chanced asking instead, and he watched as the other's face lit up in pure victory and jubilation.
"They're victory smoothies, Bud!" Wukong exclaimed, shoving one at MK until he took it from the other. "I just completed my first successful heist! And I did pretty well, if I do say so myself." The Monkey King smirked, puffing out his chest in a show of confidence as he took a sip of what was obviously a peach smoothie. "Oh yeah, tastes like a job well done."
"Really!?" MK exclaimed, his own pride welling up knowing that he had a hand in this since he was the other's mentor in thievery. He'd told the other to start small, something that would be missed but not something that would gather immediate attention from the whole city just in case something went wrong. "That's great! What did you steal?"
"I'm not telling."
This made the younger pause, raising a brow as the elder not so subtly tossed the pillow into a nearby bush.
"... should I be concerned?" MK asked, knowing that with Wukong's reputation... he may have bitten off far more than he could chew. This was the immortal who went on a spree through Heaven that ended up with him eating a ton of immortality peaches, drinking immortality alcohol, and taking immortality pills. Among other things.
"No way!" Wukong assured, chugging more and more of his smoothie with seemingly no regard for the possibility of brain freeze. "Trust me, bud, this went off without a hitch. You have nothing to worry about."
~
Those words came back to to bite Sun Wukong in the ass.
Or, rather, they came back to throw Sun Wukong through MK's window at "way too early for this o'clock" in the morning right after he had finished sleepily getting ready for another day at work and accidentally nodded back off on his bed.
The weight of an immortal stone monkey slamming into you was much more effective than any alarm clock he'd ever used before.
"WHATWHOWHERE!?" MK wheezed out once the Monkey King climbed off him, looking around in confusion until his eyes finally fell on a third party in the room. "M-Macaque!?"
"Where's my couch you wanna be Phantom Thief!?" Macaque yelled, completely ignoring the person who's house he had just inadvertently broken into. He brushed bits and pieces of broken glass and window frame out of his fur with a scowl of anger. "I actually paid for that."
"You really think I would tell you where I stashed it?" Wukong snarked back, smirking wide as he crossed his arms. "A Phantom Thief never reveals the location of their treasure trove to their marks."
"Wait wait wait-" MK said, holding up his hands and finally grabbing the attention of the two fighting immortal monkeys. "You just crashed through my window... because... You were his first heist mark... and Monkey King's first successful heist was your couch?"
"Got it in one, Bud!" Wukong said with a laugh, not seeming to care that Macaque was slowly stewing in more and more anger and frustration. "I wouldn't have even been noticed if he hadn't come home part way through either, he's normally out later than that."
"You sent me a calling card you dumb ass!" Macaque yelled, falling into a fighting stance. "Just because you got lucky enough to get away last time-"
"You call this luck?" Wukong yelled back with a laugh, smirking as he pulled something out of his sleeve and tossed it at Macaque. "No, this is all skill!"
MK barely had time to register what happened before Wukong grabbed him and covered his eyes and a tiny explosion and a pained yelp sounded behind them as they jumped out his broken window.
"SUN WUKONG YOU GET BACK HERE BEFORE I CAN SEE AGAIN OR ELSE!" Macaque yelled, right before another pained yelp was heard. "Holy shit, Kid, why do you have so much stuff on your floor, who lives like this, I can't even WALK in here!"
MK never got to answer or be offended at the immortal before he was tossed over Wukong's shoulder as he made a break for it running through alleyways at breakneck speed before Pigsy's Noodles was no longer even in sight.
They stopped eventually, the immortal monkey putting MK down before looking around to make sure they hadn't been tailed by the other immortal. After a couple minutes it was clear that Macaque had either not followed him due to the blinding effects of the flash paper or had not been able to catch their trail. The two of them each breathed a sigh or relief, looked at each other...
And immediately burst into laughter.
They couldn't help it! It was just... so ridiculous! All that over a heisted couch. Pigsy was sure to be upset at the damage to MK's apartment but given Mystic Monkey Business and all he was certain that the fact it was only a broken window this time would be a decent balm on the damage.
"Macaque is going to get you back for this," MK managed to get out through laughs. "We lost him and now he's going to find another way to get you back, I know it."
"What's he gonna do, steal my couch?"
~
"HE STOLE. MY COUCH."
"How'd he even get to the mountain?"
"HE. STOLE. MY. COUCH!"
"I think you're missing the bigger issue he-"
"HESTOLEMYCOUCH!"
"I KNOW STOP YELLING!"
MK slapped a hand over Wukong's mouth, only barely cutting off and muffling the scream of disbelief and frustration that the Monkey King let out at the state of things.
"Why are you focused on the fact that Macaque stole your couch and not the fact that he somehow got into the part of Mount Huaguo that we have to let someone into, BROKE INTO YOUR HOUSE. and for some reason he ONLY stole your couch?"
"Oh, he's broken in before," Wukong answered once he pried MK's hand away from his face. "But I can't believe that asshole! I stole his couch as a joke, stealing mine back is just petty."
"What do you mean he's broken in before?" MK continued, voice tense and high and totally not at all feeling suddenly very anxious about this new knowledge. "Macaque's just been able to come and go as he pleases this whole time?"
"Yeah, kinda. Not exactly as he pleases but he can just come in I guess."
"These are the kinds of things you need to tell your student- I thought we talked about proper communication as one of our first lessons!"
"... oops?"
~
"When did you get a new couch?" Red Son asked with a raised brow, watching as the immortal monkey lounging on it swished his tail back and forth in contentment.
"Heisted it," Macaque answered with a smirk. "Totally worth it. But next time I'm stealing Peach's tv too, this is so comfy I could use some proper entertainment."
"YOU STOLE SUN WUKONG'S COUCH???"
#monkie kid#lego monkie kid#phantom thieves au#gen fic#sun wukong#monkey king#six eared macaque#mk#qi xiaotian#humor fic#fanfic#prompt fill#this was WAY too much fun to write#i based the pendant partially on something from an episode of detective conan#not a kaitou kid episode though just a regular one#as well as some magic tricks I've seen close up magicians perform as well
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you’ll always know me || aaron hotchner x reader
Summary: "I would have stayed... If you asked me to.
After your high school graduation, you left without saying goodbye to Aaron Hotchner, your best friend, and nobody had heard from you since. Years later, you're back in DC, and catching up with Aaron brings more than you could have possibly hoped for.
Warnings: mentions of weed
A/N: I really wanted some soft Hotch content in my life after all the angst in my best habit, and this is about as soft as I can get. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "dorothea". Honestly, I was listening to evermore, blacked out for about three hours, and this is what came from that. There is no other explanation for this. It's written differently than my usual style, but I hope y'all like it still!
read on ao3 || masterlist
~~~~~~~
“What’s got you in such a rush?”
Rossi eyes Aaron carefully as the latter circles around his office, double and triple-checking that he didn’t forget anything. The last thing he wants is to have to come back to the office and cut his day short.
Aaron shoves a few case files in his briefcase. “An old friend from high school is in town and I’m meeting up with her.”
Rossi perks up at the word ‘her’ and he leans against the door frame. Aaron notices this, too, because he shakes his head quickly. “It’s not like that. We both got sent to boarding school for being problem children and we became quick friends. I haven’t talked to her since graduation. She just packed up her stuff and left the very next day.”
“You sound bitter,” Rossi points out.
“Not at all,” he lies, trying to forget the hurt of running to your dorm for your weekly breakfast together, only to be met with an empty room and a singular polaroid. “I knew she hated it there and her goal was to travel and see as many places as she could. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s back stateside at all. Last I heard, she was doing some art apprenticeship in Italy, but that was years ago.”
“You sound like you have a long evening ahead of you, so I’ll get out of your hair. And have some fun tonight, Aaron. You deserve it,” Rossi adds on as an afterthought.
The corners of Aaron's mouth lift slightly. “I will. Try not to let the building burn down while I’m gone. Reid is back on his physics magic kick, and I think I heard something about a lighter.”
Rossi gives Aaron a two-finger, half-hearted salute in acknowledgment, which is all it takes for Aaron to shut his office door and head towards the elevator. Knowing that you’re just outside, he has to make a conscious effort to slow his pace from an excited jog to just an anxious speed walk. The elevator ride is slow, seemingly stopping at every single floor on the way down, which gives his mind ample time to wander and think back to graduation day.
“There you are!” Aaron shouts from across the football field as he runs up to you, shoving through bustling groups of families trying to take pictures. He has so many stoles and cords and leis around his neck that you can barely see the suit he’s wearing underneath his gown. It’s a stark contrast to you, with only a singular chord for academic achievement, although a 3.2 wasn’t much of an achievement in the eyes of most people at boarding school.
“Here I am!” you laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug and breathing in the smell of his cologne.
“Where’re your parents? Didn’t they come?”
“Of course they didn’t. They’re not ones for celebrating something as trivial as high school graduation, not when it’s just expected of me.” You roll your eyes. “What about you? I thought you and Haley were going to do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing today?”
Aaron is oblivious to the bitterness in your voice, although that’s nothing new. “We are, but I just wanted to give these to you.” It’s then that you notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand, although it’s now being pressed into your arms. “As a congrats. And a thank you for being there for me this whole time. You’re my best friend.”
You try to ignore the ache in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Aaron. I… I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he waves it off. “If you want to get me something, breakfast is your treat tomorrow.”
“Okay, deal,” you agree, the smile coming back to your face. Selfishly, you don’t want him to go back to Haley or his family just yet. You want him to stay there with you so you don’t feel so lonely in the crowd of happy graduates. “God, I can’t believe you’re staying in D.C. for college. We always talked about getting out, seeing the world and never coming back.”
Aaron shrugs, and you watch as he brushes away a piece of his hair that falls into his face. “I’m hoping that going to GW for undergrad will make it easier to get into law school there.”
“And Haley Brooks is still here for another year,” you point out, half accusatory.
“Yeah, that, too.” Aaron chuckles uncomfortably before quickly switching the conversation. “What about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“There’s an art school in Glasgow I’m thinking of going to. But, you know… George Washington also has an art program. It’s pretty nice, too. I’m still deciding.” You trail off, looking straight into Aaron’s eyes, giving him every chance in the world to make the decision for you.
Aaron hesitates, fighting an internal battle. “Go to Glasgow!” he says, fake enthusiasm in his voice, but your disappointment blocks out anything but his actual words. “Then I’ll have an excuse to visit Scotland.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was leaning towards, too,” you lie. “Aaron, I—”
You’re cut off by a voice calling his name. You both turn around to see Haley Brooks waving him over, her other hand holding 7-year-old Sean’s hand. She looks like spring personified, her blonde hair in bouncy curls and her pink sundress swishing around her long, slender legs. Her smile is so big that it could have parted storm clouds, and you want nothing more than to hate her with every single fiber of your being.
But then you see Aaron, returning her megawatt smile with his own, one you rarely ever saw, and how can you hate somebody who makes him so happy?
“I have to go, I’m sorry,” he says, although there’s not even a hint of regret in his voice. “But I’ll see you for one last Sunday breakfast tomorrow?”
“I’ll see you then,” you lied.
How Aaron could have missed the signs of your unhappiness, he’ll never know. At that time, all he knew was that you left without ever saying goodbye, leaving behind only a polaroid of the two of you from your weekend trip to Virginia Beach, both of you drunk and laughing with your arms wrapped around each other. He still has it, buried in his nightstand somewhere, but he hasn’t had the courage to look at it for a few years now.
As Aaron steps out of the FBI building, he recognizes you instantly, even though it’s only the back of your head, and it causes his breath to catch in his throat. He calls your name and watches as you turn around, your hair whipping around you, and the fact that you still have that same mischievous glint in your eyes is enough to make him feel like he’s sixteen again and nervously skipping class with you holding his hand and pulling him towards the school gates.
“Aaron!” You jog up to him and throw your arms around him in a hug, which he happily reciprocates. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away, and Aaron’s entire face burns.
You keep your hands on his biceps, holding him at arm’s length, as you study him. He looks almost exactly the same as he did all those years ago, with soft hair and the slightest bit of stubble, but he looks less carefree. He seems more mature, like life had aged him 100 years. Still, as cute as high school Aaron was, it had nothing on how good he looks now. “Look at you, Mr. FBI, all suit and corporate-looking! I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ve changed quite a bit,” he admits, and the sight of his dimples makes you want to melt right there into the sidewalk. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you barely thought about me,” you joke, but hurt flashes through your eyes.
Aaron wants to argue, to tell you that he thinks about you all the time, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to spend the precious few hours he has with you bringing up old issues. “Are you hungry? Because there’s this diner a few blocks down with giant milkshakes.”
“Why are we still standing here, then? All you had to say was milkshakes, they’re my favorite.”
“I know. I remember,” he says, and that all-too-familiar pang in your heart comes back like it had never left. “Come on, we can walk and cut through a park.”
The two of you start your walk in comfortable silence, listening to the bustling city around you. Every once in a while, your hands would bump into his, and you were doing everything you could to ignore it.
“So did you ever go to that art school?” he asks suddenly, looking over at you.
You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. “I did. You were right, I loved Scotland.”
“Where did you go after that? Nobody heard from you.”
Your eyes sparkle as memories of your life the past few years flash through your mind. “Everywhere. Literally. I took a bunch of odd jobs and spent my time traveling,” you admitted. “I taught English in Vietnam for a year, worked on a cruise ship that went around South America, was an au pair for a French ambassador, went on research expeditions… Even dated a pilot for all of six months. Anything I could do that would let me see the world.” You laugh to yourself, shaking your head fondly. “I really put that private boarding school tuition to good use, huh? My parents were pissed.”
“It sounds like you were living the life you dreamed of,” Aaron says softly, looking down at you.
“It was,” you agree, your voice a little sad.
“So then why are you back here in DC?”
You shrug, your hands clasped behind your back, and you step down on a particularly crunchy leaf. “I’m just passing through. I’ve been going around the US and looking for a place to settle down. Finally. Figured I might as well put that art degree to good use. Maybe I’ll open a gallery or something.”
Aaron nods slowly as the chill of autumn runs through his bones. It’s nice, though, in a weird way. He’s always preferred the fall over spring. “Where have you looked so far?”
“Lots of places. San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Atlanta, San Antonio, Miami… I’m heading up to New York next. Nothing’s felt right so far. But enough about me, how are you? I heard you married Haley Brooks.”
That same bitterness you felt in high school when you talked about Haley comes back with a vengeance. It’s unfair, and you know that. How was Aaron supposed to know that you were practically in love with him in high school if you never told him? Even now, you’re sure that he hasn’t put together the pieces.
You watch as his gaze falls slightly. “I did. She died a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you reach out to give his hand a small squeeze.
“We got divorced a little while before it happened,” he explains, unsure why it’s so important to him that you know that. “I blamed myself for it for a long time. But I’ve, uh… I’ve made peace with it now.”
You give him a comforting smile, fully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. “Aaron Hotchner, making peace with something in his life? I never thought I’d see the day.”
Aaron chuckles and bumps his shoulder to yours. “I’ve been known to do it a few times. But only a few. Haley and I have a son, though. His name is Jack. He’s 8 now.”
You shake your head in disbelief, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “And you’re a father? Wow, you really have changed.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asks, and you shake your head wordlessly.
“I like every version of Aaron Hotchner,” you promise. “Besides, change is a good thing. Especially since this city hasn’t changed a bit.”
Aaron looks around, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s seeing DC for the very first time. “It’s actually changed quite a bit. But it’s subtle. Only people who have been here as long as I have would even notice it, probably.”
The words cut through you both as a painful reminder of your abrupt departure from DC, and the silence settles over the two of you like a thick fog. This conversation was going to have to happen no matter what, you knew that going into this meeting with Aaron, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
“I would have stayed,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “If you asked me to.”
Aaron shakes his head as his Adam’s apple bobs. “I thought about it. But I couldn’t do that to you. I knew you wanted to see the world, and you said it yourself. This city had nothing left to offer you.”
You pause, rubbing your thumb over your fingertips with your freehand. “It had you,” you reply, and Aaron feels like he was just stabbed in the heart. “That would have been enough.” Seeing Aaron’s dejected face, you quickly keep talking. “But I get it, don’t worry. You were head over heels for Haley Brooks. Everybody knew you two were meant to be together.””
“What does that have to do with you leaving?” he asks, more accusatory than he intended.
“Everything.”
Aaron breathes out your name, unsure of what to say until he settles on: “I’m sorry.”
You wave him off, forcing a laugh. “Don’t be. I was 17 years old with a crush. We do stupid things, like want to stay at home for a boy. I’m glad I left. Besides, Haley Brooks was clearly the love of your life, and far be it from me to try and break up the golden couple.”
The two of you stop in front of the diner and you drop Aaron’s hand, much to his disappointment, although you’re still close enough to him to see your reflection in his brown eyes. “I didn’t know you felt like that about me,” he says.
“Which is surprising, because everybody else definitely knew. But you’ve always been a little clueless when it comes to stuff like that,” you tease, flashing him a toothy smile. “But it’s in the past. So come on, I want to hear about this FBI stuff and drink a milkshake so big it makes my stomach hurt.”
Twenty minutes later, you and Aaron find yourselves smushed together in a corner booth covered in cheap vinyl, splitting a chocolate milkshake and laughing as you stroll down memory lane.
“You know, I ran into Stephen yesterday! A little coffee shop not too far from here,” you tell Aaron.
Aaron almost drops the fry he was about to eat. “Do you mean Stoner Stephen? What is he doing back here?”
You take a sip of the milkshake, and Aaron’s gaze is intense as you wrap your lips around the straw. When you pull back, he’s still staring at the soft pink your lipstick leaves behind. “Apparently, he’s lived here for years. Also, did you know he’s crazy smart? Like… graduated 4th in our class, went to Brown undergrad and Columbia graduate, smart.”
Aaron’s eyes go wide in disbelief. “And this is the same guy who, completely sober, tried putting his mattress in the pool so that he didn’t have to sleep in his own dorm?”
“The very same one. He’s like a lobbyist now or something for some activist group.”
“Wow, I did not expect that. Do you remember when he got so high that he thought his joint was going to catch the dorms on fire?” Aaron asks, the words barely discernible through his laughter. “So he warned campus police that the whole school was going to burn down.”
“Yes!” you giggle, your head thrown back in laughter. “They thought it was an arson threat and they had to evacuate the whole school. I was taking an English final during that.”
Aaron’s shoulder pressing against yours makes a shiver run down your spine. You idly wonder how much closer he can get to you if he really tried.
As if reading your mind, Aaron turns towards you a little more so that your knees are touching and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. “We went to the beach that weekend,” he says quietly, unwilling to break eye contact with you. “Drank cheap beer. You got stung by a jellyfish. I had to carry you back to the car.”
No, no. You were not about to fall for Aaron Hotchner’s charm again that easily. Not again. It took you too long to get over him the first time. Still, you were leaning closer to Aaron, and Aaron was leaning in towards you, and your noses brushed as you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly and—
And his phone rings. Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips one last time before pulling away, giving you an apologetic look.
“Hotchner,” he answers, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself as realization sinks into you. You feel like you’re 17 again, desperately waiting for Aaron to ask you to prom, only to hide in your dorm for days on end when he asked Haley Brooks.
When Aaron hangs up, he immediately reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, setting enough cash on the table to cover the tab and tip. “That was work. We have to fly out to Arizona. I’m sorry.”
You nod understandingly. “Gotta catch the bad guys. When do you leave?”
It’s silent for a few torturous moments before he finally answers. “An hour, at most. We brief at the office and then get on the plane.”
“Wow,” you breathe. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you live out of your suitcase. Can I walk back with you, at least?”
Aaron smiles, a small smile that makes you wonder how often he actually smiles now. It used to be a lot, but from what he’s told you, it seems like he’s had a rough go of it the last couple of years, and has a lot less to smile about. It makes you sad because when you were traveling the world, his smile was the one thing you missed the most.
“I’d really like that.”
The two of you make small talk on the way back, swapping stories about Jack and your various adventures around the globe. The autumn air is crisp with leaves falling all around you. At one point, there was a big gust of wind, and leaves and pine needles got blown onto the two of you, and you took your sweet time running your fingers through his hair, bushing it all off him.
When you get to the entrance of the FBI building, neither one of you says anything. You just stand there, both unwilling to say goodbye. You turn to face each other, just as close as you were in the diner booth.
“Oh, you have a…” Aaron delicately reaches his hand to your hair. His fingers in your hair make your stomach do flips, and you’re almost positive he can hear your racing heartbeat. His eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, never blinking. “Pine needle,” he whispers, holding the offending object between his fingers.
“Thanks,” you breathe, and you’re not sure if it’s the autumn chill or his hand reaching to cup your cheek that sends goosebumps throughout your body.
As if he were magnetic, you rise onto your toes, bringing yourself closer to him, and you press your lips against his. Aaron deepens the kiss and runs his thumb across your cheekbone. His other hand wraps itself around your waist. The kiss is slow and sensual and better than anything you could have dreamed of — and you dream of Aaron kissing you more often than you’d like to admit.
All too soon, the two of you pull away from each other, both wearing matching smiles.
“I should probably… get in there… before my team sends out a search party,” Aaron says reluctantly, pointing towards the entrance.
You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Go save lives. I’ll probably be around for a few more days before heading up to New York. If you’re back by then.”
Aaron purses his lips, deep in thought. “You’re definitely settling down somewhere? Done with seeing the world?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Have you… Do you think…” Aaron takes a grounding breath, trying to gather the words he was too afraid to ask back at graduation. “Have you ever considered settling down here? There’s a pretty big art community here.”
You shrug, ignoring excitement building in your chest. “I think my work is a little too experimental for the people of the capitol.”
“You’d be surprised,” he chuckles.
You bring your lower lip between your teeth, chewing nervously at it. “I don’t know… I left for a reason. I just don’t know what DC has to offer me anymore.”
Aaron spreads his arms out at his side, palms facing you in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. “There’s me,” he offers, and, when your eyes go wide, he adds, “And Stoner Stephen, if I’m not enough.”
A laugh bursts out of you uncontrollably, which seems to put both you and Aaron at ease. “That makes it a very tempting offer,” you tease.
“And I have a coworker who flips houses. He’ll be able to tell you where to get the best deal on an apartment,” Aaron presses as if you need any more convincing. As if your mind isn’t already made up.
“First, I need to know that there’s more than one good place to get milkshakes,” you point out, shoving your hands in your coat pockets. “You’ll have to show me around when you get back.”
Aaron’s lips quirk up in a hopeful smile. “It’s a date.”
He makes his way towards the entrance of the Hoover Building, but you call out his name, stopping him once more. “We’ll also need a new Sunday breakfast place. Since our old one is closed down.”
Now, his smile is one of pure joy, and his eyes are sparkling in a way you haven’t seen in years. “I know just the place. As long as you don’t up and leave without telling me again.”
“Never again,” you promise, and for once, the idea of staying doesn’t terrify you.
“Then we’ll get breakfast together as soon as I get back.”
You smile at him, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours. “I’ll see you then.”
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction#my writing
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Malcolm and Marie live blog
I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.
Spoilers ahead!!
I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.
A tune indeed.
When you are high and drunk on success and
How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.
Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.
So he's pretentious and unaware.
Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.
Can this nigga stop pacing.
Also can he stop talking;
Marie is so tired and unimpressed.
Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.
Oooo the tension and the jazz.
Title Card over mac and cheese.
Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.
Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.
John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.
Guilty confession?
He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....
If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.
GASLIGHTER!
The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.
Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.
He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.
If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.
I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.
70s vibes! 70s vibes!
Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.
Women really are behind every great man.
Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.
Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.
She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.
Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.
I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.
Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?
The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.
Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.
Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.
Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.
Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.
So she's conditional.
Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.
Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba
He is so hurtful.
A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.
John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.
He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.
Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.
This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.
They sitting there like 🚬🧍♀️🧍♂️.
Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.
The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.
He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.
Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄
ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.
Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.
He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.
Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.
He ain't even ask her to read?
One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)
You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.
Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)
But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.
To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.
Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.
CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.
I love Marie yep that was amazing.
Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)
He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.
Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.
I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.
Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.
Marie to herself and the audience:
He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.
The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5
Oh shit this is my song,
Ratings/overall thoughts:
Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.
Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.
Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.
John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.
Cinematography: A and a participation award.
The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.
Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.
The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.
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Chapter three of my fic!!
Here is chapter one, and here is chapter two :)
TW// conversations pertaining to dead victims/descriptive imagery of stab wounds and death caused by stab wounds, as well as blood is mentioned.
~
Technical Analyst (ch.3)
~
Day two of working with the BAU, and Spencer felt a little bit more prepared than the day before, thank god for that. He didn’t think he could handle another day of getting surprised by how attractive certain agents were, how being in the bullpen made him feel, how out of place he felt.
Now, he could handle himself better. He could buckle down and do his work, and he was glad to. All he had to do was focus on his work, and pray that no cases came flying through to his desk.
~
He entered the building same as always, coffee thermos in one hand, messenger bag slung over his shoulders, and barely waving his I.D. badge at the guards anymore. He has a routine, and as simple as it was, he did enjoy it.
He made his way to the elevators, pressing on the button and stepped back- waiting for it to arrive.
As he waited, a woman with blonde hair made her way to stand next to him. She was waiting for the elevator, too. They made no small talk as they waited, Spencer wasn’t one to initiate it- and the woman seemed distracted with case files in her hand; mumbling to herself about how she was going to ‘have to present this to the team’, as she went through them at lightning speed.
The elevator dinged, arriving to the ground floor to take them up. The woman got on first, then spencer.
The blonde woman reached out, pressing button number six. Same place Spencer needed to go, so he just left it, not bothering to say or do anything as he felt the elevator whirr up. The woman didn’t know that, though. “What floor for you?” She asked him in a polite voice.
“I’m on six as well.” Spencer explained simply, giving her no more information. She nodded, that line seemed to be enough for her. No more words were exchanged as the elevator slid up.
~
Spencer made it to his office with no issues, the woman had gone straight into the bullpen, Spencer guessed she was one of the team members he didn’t get the chance to meet yet. Not a problem for him, he’d probably end up entering her case files into VICAP, too.
Spencer made himself comfortable in the office as he always did, setting his coffee thermos down next to his computer mouse, slinging his messenger bag over the back of his chair, before finally sitting down. Perfect, just how he liked it all to be.
Well, that was how he liked things to be. But he couldn’t stop feeling just the teeniest bit anxious. About what, he wasn’t sure. It must still just be nerves from now doing this temporary stint with the BAU, he decided as his answer, as he logged onto his computer to start today’s work.
~
“Do we have a new intern?” J.J. asked Emily as she passed by her desk to her own, Emily looked up from her computer with a confused expression.
“What?” “A new intern, do we have one?” J.J. repeated herself, sitting down in her desk chair and spinning it to face Emily.
“Uh, no. Why? See a kid somewhere?” Emily asked J.J. curiously. Usually interns were kids anywhere from eighteen to twenty two years old, and Hotch usually made them follow him, or one of the team members for the day as a type of shadowing. The bureau hadn’t done many internships as of lately, though, so Emily had no idea where J.J. would’ve gotten the idea regarding a new intern.
“Yeah, on the elevator up here. Some guy, he looks like a twenty year old. Long hair, sweater vest type of thing. I thought he was going to follow me into the bullpen but I don’t know where he went.” J.J. explained.
“Oh, no. That’s Garcia’s temporary replacement for the week.” Emily explained as she turned back to her work, “Replacement?” J.J. questioned, emily was clicking away with her mouse as she responded; “Garcia’s on vacation for the week. Had to use up those vacation days.”
J.J. just nodded, turning herself back to her own desk to get started on her own work for the day.
~
Morgan made his way into work about an hour after J.J. had arrived, since they weren’t on a case it was more acceptable to show up late. But that being said, when he did finally arrive, Emily gave him hell for it.
“And where were you?” Emily asked him, all her attention focused on him, rather than responding to emails and calls.
“I slept in.” He said simply as he sat down at his desk, ready for the day to officially start now that he was here, he logged onto his computer as J.J. and Emily both started badgering him.
“Did you know we have a replacement for Garcia?” J.J. asked him curiously, and Derek didn’t even get the chance to respond before emily butted in; “Oh, does he?! He was the first to notice!” That didn’t necessarily surprise J.J., as Derek always went to go see and check in on Garcia first thing, that’s just how he was. But what did surprise J.J. was Emily’s enthusiasm.
“What else happened?” J.J. asked, she knew something else was at play.
“Nothing-“ “Derek thinks he’s cute.” Emily cut Morgan off at record speed, he just sighed, not everyone in the goddamn office needed to know he found their new temporary technical analyst attractive.
“You do?” J.J. asked curiously, Derek could tell she wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon- especially with Emily egging her on to ask for information. He was screwed.
~
Thankfully, Hotch walked into the bullpen just in the nick of time, before anything else could transpire between the trio, he walked up to them and turned to J.J.
“You called about a case?” He asked her simply, he looked a bit jostled, like he had woken up to J.J.’s call and immediately come to the office. His hair wasn’t tussled and he didn’t look tired, but he seemed as if he was tired- it was a sense the team gained about Hotch the more they were around him. “A possible one,” J.J. said, holding up a thick case file.
Hotchner just nodded, “Someone get Dave- and our new technical analyst for the week. Meet up at the round table in twenty.” Before heading off, up the stairs to his office.
As soon as Hotch was up and away, J.J. and Emily’s eyes shot back to Derek, he pretended to not feel them as he clicked through his emails.
“I’ll get Rossi, you should set up J.J.” Emily said, “That means you get our analyst out of his office.” She kept her eyes on Derek as she spoke, Morgan just rolled his eyes, looking up at the two expectant women in front of him. “Alright- Prentiss, I get, but I expect better from you J.J.” He half joked with her, J.J. just laughed lightly for a second before responding; “Sue me for being interested.”
~
J.J and Emily both left Derek shortly after that, Emily to get Rossi- and J.J. to set up the round table, for her presentation on whatever sad town needed their help next.
And Derek, he had to go get their new analyst. But he almost didn’t want to, maybe he was stubborn. But he didn’t like Emily or J.J.’s smug faces when Prentiss brought up how Derek noticed Reid first. And he knew things would only escalate once the doctor was actually in the room with them.
Derek had a duty, though. However annoyed he was at the ladies, he went through and got up, out of his desk chair; walking briskly out of the bullpen, out of the glass doors, and down the hall, to the smallest office known to man.
~
Spencer was playing chess on his computer. As much as he hated technology, he did have to admit that he did enjoy the fact he could play chess with someone, regardless of where they were in the world.
Spencer didn’t ever have someone to play against, though. He used to play with Gideon, before he had retired, but now Gideon was gone. And Gideon hated technology just as much as Reid.
His mother used to love playing chess against him, but with her fading mind- they hadn’t played a genuine game of chess in years. But that was okay, Spencer didn’t want to stress her out with playing on a computer, Spencer just wanted to be with his mom.
So Spencer usually played against random users, or the computer itself. It was fun for him, all he needed was a challenge- something this bureau job no longer provided him with.
As Spencer started a new game, pushing his first pawn forward two spaces, a knock sounded out into his quiet office. “Yes?” he asked, turning the game off at lightning speed and spinning around in his desk chair to face the door. He didn’t want it to be Strauss or anyone else- who could walk in and be mad at him for playing chess.
It wasn’t anyone like that, though, as the classically handsome agent from earlier peeked his head into Reid’s office.
“Hey, we got a case.”
~
If Derek focused on Spencer’s micro-facial expressions, he would’ve seen the split second where fear was clearly written all over the young doctors face. But then, Derek would have seen how quickly Spencer’s face went back into a neutral expression. Spencer hid his fear quickly, but inside- he was nervous. He wasn’t supposed to be with the team on a case- he was supposed to do light filing and VICAP work.
~
All Reid did was get up quickly, following after Derek at a lightning pace. Neither of them said anything until they were walking back through the glass bullpen doors;
“Do you- do you know any specifics on the case?” Spencer asked, stumbling over his words and cringing at how they sounded coming out of his mouth. Morgan just shook his head in response, “No, J.J. is going to fill us in at the round table.”
Spencer just nodded, trying to calm himself down by the thought that maybe this case wouldn’t be too serious, something they could work out from here- something that could be wrapped up by the end of the day. But he knew Garcia’s work schedule, he knew the late nights and early mornings she endured. He might meet her same fate on this case, and Spencer didn’t know if he could do that.
Reid followed Derek up the stairs in the bullpen, walking past offices, before reaching the end of the hallway where the round table room was.
~
Derek walked in first, Spencer following a few steps behind him. As they entered, Hotch stood up from his seat at the table to make brief introductions.
“Everyone, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, our technical analyst for the time Garcia is gone.”
Reid stuck his hand up, a singular wave gesture to everyone sat at the table, before saying a quick ‘hello’, and taking the seat nearest to him. Derek ended up sitting to his right, and the agent Spencer had met yesterday- Emily, was to his left. Past her was Hotchner, then the blonde woman from the elevator- the one with the case, and lastly was David Rossi; sat at the far end.
Being in the same room with someone as experienced as Rossi made Spencer nervous, an excited type of nervous. He wished he could go over and ask Rossi all the questions he’d ever thought of, and Spencer knew he had a lot.
Spencer squashed that excited nervous down, though. As the basic nerves of being in the round table, starting work on a case with the BAU, took priority in his brain. Spencer wasn’t sure if he could help this team- he knew he was smart, but what if he wasn’t helpful smart?
~
“This is Andrew Pullin, a twenty nine year old male from Montclair, Virginia,” the woman with blonde hair from the elevator started; pressing a button on the handheld remote to switch photos on the projector to show a classically handsome man’s DMV photo. Caucasian, buzz cut brown hair, green eyes, and a serious look to his entire face.
She pressed the remote again, another photo- this time a lot more grotesque, appeared on screen.
In the photo, Andrew was laid in an alley, hidden away in between a wall and a dumpster, and wrapped with what looked to be an opaque shower curtain. Though the image of what was underneath was obscured, it was easy to guess by the amount of blood around and on the body; that he had been stabbed or cut open in some way.
“He was hidden, but he was wrapped up? This shows some level of remorse.” Rossi spoke aloud, the first of the group to say anything. Spencer wanted to say something so badly. But he kept himself quiet for now.
“He was stabbed approximately thirteen times, across the torso and down to the genitals.” She explained, clicking the remote again to show the photos the medical examiners took. Photos of his stabbed torso, with clothes and without, all the way down to his genitals. It wasn’t a pretty sight, Spencer tried to keep himself neutral.
He had seen terrible things in domestic terrorism, but it was a lot more seeing demented individuals talk about their plans to bomb somewhere in D.C., or how they planned to poison people eating at a restaurant to paint some larger picture. But the domestic terrorism team always got there in advance, to stop it from happening.
These were heinous crimes, already committed and destroying the people they affected most- the victims family and friends.
Spencer focused back to the projector screen now, “Montclair P.D. called us in this time.” The blonde woman said, “This time?” Hotchner asked seriously.
“Six months ago, they had a murder just like this.” She pressed on the remote again. This time, a new DMV photo popped up.
“This is Jakob Dewinsky, thirty two. Also wrapped in an opaque shower curtain, hidden inside an empty dumpster in an alley.” Dewinsky was another young, basic looking, Caucasian male.
“How many stab wounds on him?” Morgan asked curiously. “Nineteen.” She answered, pressing the remote to show the crime scene and medical examiner photos side by side.
Spencer wished he could forget like a normal person sometimes, especially when he had to look at something like this. Thankfully he could distract himself after this, though.
Reid already had a plan on what to do, he was going to search known associates for both victims and cross reference. He also wanted to start on a geographical profile to see how close the dumpsites were, as well as check last known credit and debit card activities to see if he could figure out the victims last moves.
He had it all mapped out, until agent Hotchner turned to him and spoke.
“Doctor Reid, I understand you worked with Agent Gideon before. What do you think of these crime scenes?”
Spencer wasn’t expecting to be spoken to, to be asked about his opinion. So, when he was asked- his mind went blank.
“Oh- um, I think there’s, Uh-“ Reid stopped to clear his throat, to try and salvage whatever this conversation was. “There’s a lot of passion in the crime.. so, I think- um, it could be a known associate of- of one or both of the victims. The number of stab marks is, uh, interesting.”
Agent Hotchner kept his facial expression neutral, like always, he just did a simple nod in response before speaking; “That’s a good start, also look into the shower curtains- see if we can find a paper trail there.”
Spencer felt his face burning up red, the nervousness and embarrassment of being called on was so childish, but what else could he do?
Reid just nodded simply, before turning his attention back to the projector screen, ignoring the stares he felt from the rest of the BAU. Spencer felt like he didn’t belong at the table, not one bit, but he pushed that feeling away.
~
The end of the meeting was quick, only two dead bodies and not enough physical evidence found by the Montclair P.D. meant there was sure to be more work for the team when they did arrive to town.
“Everyone grab your bags, Montclair is four hours by car so we’re taking the jet. P.D. wants us there fast.” Hotch said simply once the meeting had concluded, everyone stood up, as did Spencer.
Spencer knew he was going to be staying behind, Garcia always did, and Spencer wasn’t sure if he really wanted to be whisked away on a jet, working on a team he never could be on.
He would really have to try and erase that memory if he did have it. Which is why he knew it be best he stay behind.
“Doctor Reid, I’m David Rossi. I’ll have to talk to you about Gideon sometime, I’m sure you’ve got lots of stories.” Dave was standing beside him, hand out to shake politely. Spencer couldn’t comprehend what was happening for a second.
“Oh- I’m, sorry, I don’t shake. I’m a bit of a germaphobe. But talking about Gideon would be great! He showed me all these tricks- but you probably know them- I- yes. We should talk sometime about him.” Spencer rambled awkwardly for a minute, wishing a meteor would fly out of balance and strike him down.
Rossi gave him a tight nod in return, putting his hand back down by his side, face unreadable. “I’ve heard a lotta good things about you, kid. Excited to work with you.” Was all Rossi left him with, before he slowly walked himself out of the round table room.
~
Spencer breathed out a sigh after Rossi left, the rest of the team had already dissipated, all off to grab their go-bags and get ready for the jet. The only thing that remained behind was a paper file of the information, the blonde woman, J.J.; as she introduced herself to spencer after the meeting, had handed it off to him. And there it sat, on the table, waiting for him to grab it and dissect it.
Spencer knew it was wishful thinking- he knew some killers didn’t get caught. But maybe catching this one could help him feel better. Maybe that was messed up. Spencer didn’t care. He was going to live in the fantasy where he was on the BAU.
Even if it was just this once, and never again.
———————————————————————
Taglist @electricsockhead @cm-whoreee @ropoto @dakka123 @sterekawesomeness @so-society-compels-to-fall @psychoanalyzing-fiction
If you’d like to be on my taglist for this Fic, comment or message me!
#fanfic#fanfiction#moreid#angst#slowburn#mlm#cm#cmblr#criminal minds#Dr. Spencer Reid#Spencer reid#Derek Morgan#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner#jennifer jareau#hotch#jason gideon#david rossi#oneshot#BAU#bau team
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Don’t make me wait (James Bond x Reader)
This was a request by the lovely @iamcavainna! I’m so sorry it took so long, but life was being a bit rough. I also wanted to at least try and make this good, so I thought that it would be better if I took some time with it... There is a fluffy ending!
I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!
Warnings: drinking wine, a gun, angst, anxiety, mentions of potential accidents that could happen in a snowy mountain
It’s not uncommon for your partner, James Bond, to be traveling abroad for weeks on end. While it can get lonely, he does try to call regularly from whichever hotel he’s staying in. After a while, you became used to it. Why? Late or not, he always kept his promise:
I’ll be back.
The last time he had called, he had said that he wouldn’t be able to contact you for a week at most due to a strenuous business conference at a ski resort in the Alps. Seeing as this was normal routine for him, you thought nothing of it and just reminded him not to accidentally hurt himself (yet again).
But today, you’re worried. In fact, you’ve been worried for five days straight. It’s been over a week - eleven days to be exact - and now you feel as though something is off.
Had he flown off the side of a cliff? Did he get lost? Was he trapped under an avalanche of snow?
James had given you an address to go to in case of emergency, but would this be the right time to use it? How can you be sure that you’re just not being paranoid? And if you did go, what would you say? James has never taken you to his place of work and barely talks about his colleagues, so who would you even be speaking to?
Hundreds of panicked questions circle your mind as you pace around your living space, phone in one hand and address in the other. You had barely slept the night before and hadn’t eaten all day.
You missed James. He’s been gone for almost a month now and no number of phone calls could replace the feeling of his warmth on his side of the bed. His laugh, his miserable cooking, his rough hands... You needed all of that and more back at home next to you. So you had to go.
You check the time. It’s just before four o’clock. If you hurry, you just might catch someone on their way out.
---
Without a second thought, you slip on your coat and hurry to the closest bus stop. The trip there was a bit of a haze, between the times you were navigating and transferring. The haze dissipates pretty quickly as you walk up to what was supposed to be some office building and not a glamourous apartment complex with a Rolls Royce being unloaded in front of the main entrance.
You have to double and triple check the address written down and your GPS on your phone. It seemed to be the right place...
Tentatively, you walk into the lobby, feeling very out of place and small. The floor looks like it all marble and there’s a little fountain in the middle of the space.
Anxious, you manage to sign yourself in at the front desk. There were some complications due to your ID, but after a quick phone call, it was sorted out and you were free to go up. You speed-walk to the elevators, feeling like someone was watching you. Looking around, you didn’t see anyone but the uptight attendant you had just spoken to making another call. The elevator doors open and you walk in.
As you get closer and closer to your destination, you feel more anxious and your palms start to sweat. You furiously try and dry them as the doors open into what looked to be someone’s home.
And that someone was straight in front of you.
“Who are you?” She was an older woman with short, salt-and-pepper hair and a fitted pantsuit.
“Uh...” You hear the elevator doors close behind you. There’s no escaping now.
“Well? I don’t have all day, you know.”
“My name is (Y/) (L/N)... I think my husband works for you.” One of her eyebrows raised. “Uh, he said that in case of emergency that I come here...” You pull out the piece of paper and she takes it. “I don’t really have anything urgent, but he’s unusually late in checking in and I-”
“Good lord.” She muttered furiously after scanning the note and crushes it.
“Pardon?” You ask, somewhat alarmed by the unexpected response.
“Please, have a seat.” She waves to a chair and you comply.
“Do you know-”
“Your husband? Yes. He’s one of my men.”
“Men?”
“...Well I can see that that fool did follow my order for once, not that it makes much difference...”
“I’m not sure I understand...”
“Normally, you wouldn’t have to.” She sits down across from you. “What is it that Bond told you about his job?”
“...Well, he’s one of those people who are the intermediaries between large company deals...?”
“Close. In reality, he’s the exact opposite.”
“I don’t-”
“Bond is an agent trained in the art of infiltration in order to stop certain kinds of ...businesses from expanding more than they already have. In short, your... husband... is an international spy.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“But that is not the issue here.” She stares at you with eagle eyes. “The issue is this address. Did Bond give it to you?”
“Yes!” You squeak - to say you’re terrified would be an understatement. “He said to come here in case of an emergency while he wasn’t home.”
“And the emergency is?”
“It’s been over a week since he last called. He promised that he would contact me once the week ended. He’s five days late. He’s never late for that long!”
“Right.” She rests her head in the palm of her hand as if she were dealing with some trivial issue. “Has anyone seen this address or followed you here?”
“No one has seen it and I don’t think so?”
“You don’t think so or you don’t know?” She snaps, but her face softens after seeing the look on your face. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Do you - do you know where James is?”
"...We know just as much as yourself. It seems the only thing that man is good for is causing me trouble.” She was standing up again and pacing.
“Is there anything I can do to help? I have this awful feeling that something happened!”
“I am afraid not. We are already doing all we can.” She sighs. “...Did he tell you anything last time he contacted you?”
“He said he was going to a ski resort with a client in the Alps...”
“Nothing else?”
“Not that I can remember.” She takes a good look at you, then turns away.
“We were told the same. Any longer and we’ll may have to consider him MIA.”
“MIA?” You feel slightly faint. “Is - is he in danger?”
“If he wasn’t he wouldn’t be doing his job.” You slump back into your seat, unsure of how to take all this information in. Not only has your husband lied to you about his profession, but that profession is putting him in danger!
“Is there anything you can tell me?” You start fiddling with your hands. “I don’t think I caught your name...”
“That would be because I didn’t tell it to you. You may call me M.”
“Right.” You nod awkwardly. “Seeing as all this is top secret and I’m-”
“A civilian.”
“...What’s going to happen to me?”
“That would be for upper management to decide. Though it shouldn’t be anything too harmful. Bond was the one who brought you into this, after all.”
“Will he be fired?” Alarm rushes through you at the thought.
“Oh no,” M looks at you with surprise. “James has done much worse than this. They’ll just give him a light spanking and send him off. He’s too good to be let go of.” She looks at you with a penetrating gaze. “Too damn good.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” You smile awkwardly. “In all honesty, this whole situation is a bit much for me.”
“I can imagine.”
“Does this happen with James often?”
“Missing a check-in or finding out about secret marriages?”
“Missing check-ins?”
“Yes, yes it does. Although it seems as though he contacts you more than us. It’s been two weeks since he last called in. It does seem like he’s taking longer than usual...”
---
Out of supposed security concerns, M told you to stay with her until James comes back. As a compromise, she sent some people to keep surveillance in your neighborhood and on your flat. Of course, this meant a couple of days (or more) living with this mysterious woman. M never talked unless necessary and most certainly did not bring her work home. While she trusts you enough in her home, she cannot afford anything leaking out, no matter how harmless.
That being said, she did try to update you on any word (or lack thereof) from your husband. The more time past, the more anxious you became. You could no longer sleep and M would find you in your room just staring at the ceiling. You had confided in her just once about how much you were missing him when you had one too many glasses of wine. Despite your loneliness, you really did try and keep strong. If the two of you were eating together, you’d ask her questions about your husband’s job. M couldn’t answer more than half of them, but did try to help shed some light on this new side of James.
She couldn’t go into a lot of details, both due to how classified it all was, but because she thought that James should be the one to explain everything.
On the third day, M had informed you that James had sent a message. It was short and didn’t disclose his whereabouts, but you were so relieved that your knees just about gave out from underneath you.
He was safe.
He was safe and that was all that mattered to you. Several more days would pass before you’d be reunited.
---
It was the dead of night and, like usual, you couldn’t sleep. M wasn’t home - she said that she would be late - so you had eaten by yourself. While her suite is beautiful, you can’t help but wish that you were home in your little flat. You used to be annoyed about how much the building settled or your neighbors snoring during the night. Now, the lack of noise unsettles you. However, every noise you do happen to hear makes the hairs on your arms stick up.
Especially when you hear the elevator open awfully early in the night.
Somehow, you knew that it wasn’t M. Maybe it was because you didn’t hear her toss her handbag on one of the chairs or that her usual heels didn’t sound like they should. Either way, you had to make sure that everything was okay. You quietly get out of the bed and grab an empty wine bottle.
Carefully, you slowly twist the doorknob to ease the door open by just a crack. You can just make out a figure that was much bigger than M shuffling around her desk. Unsure of what to do and not wanting to blow your cover immediately, you stay right where you are. He - for it was most definitely a man - straightened himself out and proceeded to make himself comfortable in one her chairs with his back towards you.
Why would a burglar make himself at home?
As he begins to pour himself a glass, you gently open the door wide enough that you could slip through it. You bless your lucky starts that it doesn’t squeak.
One, two, three, four steps forward when suddenly two unexpected things happen at the same time.
The man had gotten up, spun around and pointed a gun at your head.
The elevator doors open to reveal M.
“Good heavens! What is happening?” You watch M hurry in, throwing her bag on a chair. “Bond! Put the gun down!” Your head snaps back around. The look of surprise and alarm was reflected in your husband’s bright blue eyes. You drop the bottle and it shatters. His gun was swiftly tossed aside.
“James.” You choke back a sob as you run into his arms. He hugs back just as fiercely.
“(Y/N).” He softly tucks your head into his shoulder and seems to relax in your arms.
“I missed you.”
“I know.”
“While this is awfully touching, you have a lot of explaining to do, Bond.” James lifts his head when he hears M say his name.
“Ah. Yes. I forgot you were here.” You didn’t need to see M’s face to know the look of annoyance she was most likely sporting.
“Just sit down.” M snaps, but you can tell that it’s half-hearted. James lets go of you, but grabs your hand as he sinks down into the couch. You curl up on his side, his hand still in yours.
You would never know what it was that the two talked about after that because you had fallen asleep as soon as your head settled on his shoulder.
When you woke up, it was bright out and you were on the couch. Your pillow shifts, making you do a double take. Your pillow was in fact an arm. You shift to your other side and find yourself face to face with your husband’s sleeping face. Gently, you caress his face then plant a kiss on his cheek.
“That’s hardly what I would call a good afternoon kiss.” James smirks, suddenly wide awake.
“Afternoon?”
“It’s just after one.” He gently pulls you closer to him. “Now, don’t make me wait more than I already have...”
“That makes two of us, doesn’t it-” You kiss him squarely on the mouth then pull back - much to his obvious displeasure. “-Mr. Secret Agent?”
Needless to say, the two of you would take the time to talk things out and bring everything (that’s not classified information) into the light.
I tried really hard with this one, so I hope you all enjoyed it! I kinda feel like the start and the end were rushed... I plan on doing some Jake Lonergan headcanons this week, so that will be fun. Please feel free to send me ideas or requests! It might take a while for me to finish it, but I’ll try my best!
- Simpy
#james bond x reader#james bond#x reader#daniel craig#007#M#established couple#married couple#top secret#minor angst#fluff#request#angst to fluff#kisses#romance#fanfic#fanfiction#ian fleming#everyone is welcome
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Don’t reblog!
Just gave myself my third T injection, so I guess it’s time for a little puberty update!
(The injection, btw, went very well — it’s getting easier every time. Last time, I felt a little light-headed after the injection and had to lie down for a bit, which I assume was because I was anxious about it, but this time, I’m feeling just fine afterwards. I’m having to give myself a 3, 2, 1 countdown each time but that’s okay.)
The most noticeable thing in the past couple weeks has been the arrival of greasy skin and acne. It’s not terrible, which tracks since I had relatively mild acne as a teen (made more noticeable because I can’t help but pick at it), but unlike when I was a teen, this time I’m actually trying to take care of my skin. Most skincare routines are hellish for me as someone with sensory issues (I hate putting product on my face and getting water everywhere when I rinse it), but I’ve been using Micellar Water and that seems to be doing the trick so far.
The jury is split with regards to my voice dropping — most people don’t hear it, but my sister said she could, and personally I feel like my normal speaking range hasn’t dropped but I’m capable of going lower than before.
There are a few more stray dark hairs, particularly on my belly, which is delightful. I swear my cheek hair is getting longer, and to be honest I started crying when I noticed that. I didn’t realize how much I wanted that, I guess.
Speaking of crying, I was concerned pre-T about how it would affect my emotions, since I already struggle a lot to cry, especially in front of others. So far, I haven’t noticed any difference on that front, I don’t think.
I have noticed my mood, energy, and the speed of the changes going down over the 2 weeks between shots, which isn’t great tbh. I know that going to patches or gel can even this out, but I really don’t want to use those because of the price, my sensory issues, and the annoyance of having to use them more regularly. Maybe if it gets really bad, I’ll ask my doctor about going to 0.25/week as opposed to 0.5/2 weeks, although I’m not sure that would be easy to measure on a syringe. Or maybe I’ll wanna up my dose to 0.5/week if I’m not seeing too many changes in the 5 weeks til my follow-up.
In general, I’m feeling good! :D I’ll probably plan to post another update at the 8 week mark, unless anything really exciting happens before then (sudden baritone voice drop? Pretty please???)
(Below the cut: menstruation & TMI/NSFW stuff)
The bottom growth continues to be wild, and was especially noticeable in the first week after the second shot — to the point of it being painful for a couple of days. Still, the growth itself is very welcome and a lovely sign that T is starting to do its job.
I haven’t gotten any more spotting/bleeding in the past 2 weeks, and though my period’s supposed to be tomorrow, I highly doubt it will be cause I’ve had no PMS. I don’t mind that too much, but it’s weird not knowing when my next period will be when it’s generally been so consistent.
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im really glad I celebrated last weekend being good because oh man was last week so very NOT good, and I’m already anxious over the fact this week probably won’t be much better 😂
most of last week’s issues were low level garbage (work stuff, weather, coworkers being mad at me/cold shouldering me for no reason? who fucking cares) but the biggest one is the fact that tim needs fucking dental surgery and is getting it the last day of this month.
so on top of me going to be anxious about it until it happens (because I’m scared of leaving him alone in a strange place and him thinking im abandoning him/the potential of issues with anesthesia/what the fuck damian’s going to think with both me and tim gone all day and he’s as anxious as me on a normal basis etc etc etc) its going to be fucking EXPENSIVE. and like. i hate using my savings but ive always said I will spend every dime i have on the cats before myself if i have to. so, however much it’s gonna cost I know I can afford it. i will afford it. it’s just gonna make everything tight for the next few months.
so, it’s not dire. I’m more worried about the medical side than the monetary. but I’ll make my schpiel again. sorry I’m so annoying about it.
but if you want to help, patreon or commissions will get you something in return, and then I also have a kofi if thats more your speed. id be forever grateful.
I’ve never had a pet go through any kind of surgery before, so I don’t know what the timeline of after will look like either. I know along with cleaning his other teeth, he’s for sure getting a root extracted (of a rotted tooth that I found fallen out last sunday - that’s what started this) and potentially other teeth removed that the vet already tagged as inflamed, so that’ll be up to the surgeon. so I imagine he’ll be on pain meds and a bit loopy afterwards and I’ll be busy stressing and worrying over him so...I probably won’t be here much for a while. again. sighhhh.
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Tomorrow Hill chapter 2 part two
They arrived at the mall’s parking lot, time to do what they came here for, back to school shopping. Hunter was afraid of this, afraid of doing his tics in public and just genuinely anxious about the whole thing as well.
The two of them walked into the mall looking for school supplies. Hunter is hoping that his foster parent will allow him to get more art supplies and a new sketchbook. Then he saw something that stole his breath almost instantly.
It was a guy hazel eyes and hair dyed emerald green and a beauty mark under his left eye. Standing next him were two girls one who looked like she could be his twin, maybe they were identical twins and one with lavender hair she probably dyed it as well. Either way that guy was really eye catching Hunter couldn’t stop looking at the other boy maybe it was better for them not to know each other. Hunter felt a blush creeping on his face when the other boy laughed, that laugh was just ear candy to Hunter.
Bump took notice that he didn’t have Hunter’s attention anymore he was about to ask Hunter if found something he until he saw who he was looking at. Edric Blight, one of the three Blight siblings. Bump saw the look in Hunter’s eyes it was basically love at first sight so he decided to throw this love struck child a bone.
“You like him?”
“Huh, like who?”
“Him right there, do you want to talk to him?”
He nodded. But he was confused guys are supposed to like girls……right?
“Then do it you need practice for when you get to school anyways.”
Hunter took a few deep breath’s and started making his way towards the boy he was already feeling like he’s going to have an anxiety attack.
Edric was just scrolling through his phone when he looked to the right and saw someone standing next to him. Bleach blonde hair and an undercut extending to the back of his head leaving the bit of hair at the top left, ruby red eyes that were so beautiful that Edric had to do a double take, pale skin he did have a bit of color but other than that he was mostly pale, and a scar that went from his jawline to a bit of his cheek Edric wondered what could’ve happened to have the boy standing next to him receive that scar.
Hunter’s body suddenly lunged forward, he felt like he was going to fall over had it not been for the emerald haired boy catching him.
“You okay?”
“I’m pop just fine. I’m used to it click actually.”
That made no sense to Edric but then again he could ask Amity about this interaction she was planning on becoming a neurologist.
“Ok.”
Edric walked away leaving to ask his little sister about the interaction but Edric had admit in his mind that boy was kinda cute not the body jerking, to Edric it looked kinda painful but Edric did know that the blonde couldn’t control it, aside from that he was cute.
Hunter was standing there frozen in place then walked back to his foster dad.
“How’d it go?”
“I messed up, I think he hates me.”
“Hey no worries you’ll have another chance.”
“Yeah maybe, anyways do I have art classes on my schedule?”
“Uhh hold on let me check. You do have art on there, do you want to pick up some art supplies and a sketchbook for that next?”
“Yes I do want to do that.”
“Alright that’s our next stop.”
Edric finally caught up with Emira and Amity in the clothing section when Amity’s eyes caught something. A purple hoodie with cat ears on the hood. Amity gasped.
“This is perfect for Luz, favorite color, cat ears, hold on is it soft?”
She felt the texture of the hoodie seeing if it was soft like Luz liked it knowing that her girlfriend had issues with certain textures on some clothes especially hoodies.
“It is. I’m getting this for her and giving it to her tomorrow, she’s going to love it.”
Emira chimed in.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’s going to love it mittens.”
Emira saw Edric making his way towards them.
“There you are! What took you so long?”
“Sorry Em, just met someone.”
Amity’s interest was peaked.
“Oh ho and who was this someone?”
“I didn’t catch his name but actually I wanted to ask you about him mittens.”
“Okay go for it what’s the question.”
“Actually never mind.”
Amity just shrugged as she headed towards the register to pay for the stuff they got.
“So you’re just going to leave us hanging?”
“Yes I am.”
“Dude that is such a dick move.”
“I know Em.”
“Well I’ve already payed for the stuff we need.”
“Nice one mittens.”
Hunter saw that boy was about to leave, and knew he didn’t want to lose him so without even a second thought he started speed walking towards the boy clearly on auto drive.
Edric was five inches from the exit when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. It was that boy.
Hunter extended his hand (maybe if you suppress your tics then he’ll be your friend at least) surprisingly the other boy took his hand and shook it.
“Hey.”
“H-hi.”
Hunter was already nervous about this he didn’t even know what to say.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“Alright what is it?”
“Back there your body just kinda pushed you forward and it looked like you couldn’t control it what did you mean by you were used to it?”
This is what Hunter was afraid of.
“Yeah sorry about that. That was just….one of my tics.”
“Tics?”
“Y-yeah I have click Tourette’s.”
Edric had seen Amity doing research on it so he had a basic understanding of it. Hunter felt like he had to continue the silence was deafening.
“It’s a neurological condition that causes-”
“I know what it is it’s just I’ve never met someone that has it.”
“O-oh your pop okay with that.”
“Why would I not be.”
“R-right.”
“Give me your phone for a bit.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see. Oh yeah what’s your name?”
“H-hunter, and yours?”
“Edric nice to meet you Hunter.”
“Nice to throat clear meet you too hiccup Edric.”
Edric began to type his number into Hunter’s contacts, then Hunter spoke pretty quickly.
“I mean if you want to hang out tomorrow that’s fine but I’d understand if you didn’t wa-”
“I’d like that. So tomorrow it is?”
Hunter was at a loss of words this drop dead gorgeous guy was accepting his proposal to hang out. He didn’t even know what to do.
“Yes pop tomorrow it is.”
“Cool see ya.”
Edric gave Hunter his phone back then winked at him as he walked away which caused Hunter’s face to turn bright pink. Hunter was new to this the only other friend he had was his foster sibling Skara other than her he didn’t have any other friends.
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
Now was the difficult part asking his foster father if he could hang out with him. Hunter was still shell shocked over the interaction that he forgot about why he was there in the first place.
“There you are kid. You ready to go home.”
“I want to tch ask you something?”
“What is it.”
“Remember that guy from the mall?”
“Yes I do.”
“Well grunt he and I have made pop plans to hang out cough tomorrow, is it ok if I go to his place?”
“Of course it’s okay.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime kid, now then let’s head back home.”
#hunter toh#toh fanfic#tourettes#tourettes syndrome#foster care#principle bump#edric blight#emira blight#amity blight#huntric#goldric
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lookin for love (in all the wrong places)
chapter five
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four
In CA:CW Steve kicks Spider-Man in the chest, awakening a soul deep bond and sending Peter into his first heat, before running away to Wakanda.
The soul bond, omegaverse, Spidershield angsty romance everyone needs.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Peter Parker Chapters: 5/ Chapter word count: 6.5K Fic Rating: E Warnings: mild violence and implied sex trafficking, extreme levels of fluff Read it here on AO3 Title is from this song by Johnny Lee
Steve
The ferry docks in the Åland Islands for a few hours overnight, allowing the two of them to sleep in shifts to be safe. After dinner, they had swept the ship for suspicious persons and bugs, tagging three places around their hallway with ears to keep an eye out for possible threats.
Even with the precautions, Steve feels on edge as they sail in the morning. Neither he nor Natasha get more than a few hours of sleep, and once the sun rises, they decide to spend the rest of the journey on the upper deck. Separating for the duration of the trip, Steve takes the helm while Natasha lounges closer to the stern.
There’s no attack, no threat to be concerned about— so when the ferry docks a few hours later, the two of them are already seated in their car and driving down the off-ramp. Steve takes the wheel first, while Natasha guides him East, following the sun until it sits high in the sky.
They stop at the border to Russia and switch vehicles, easily slipping through as the newly-mated Alpha and Omega couple on their Russian passports.
And if Natasha bats her eyes and gets them a free passage to St. Petersburg, Steve isn’t complaining.
It’s as they’re driving away that Natasha flinches at something one of the border police says under their breath, and Steve raises his eyebrow in question as he steers to merge back onto the highway. If Natasha is showing her reactions, it has to be important.
“They thought…” she pauses, chewing on her lower lip, before starting over, “When they reviewed our documents, they thought you might be my... trophy Alpha.”
“Okay,” Steve says slowly, furrowing his eyebrows, “Is that bad for us?” He doesn’t quite understand what the issue is, or why Natasha might be anxious. The two men— Betas, probably— had given them a suspicious onceover, but otherwise let them travel in peace.
Natasha makes a frustrated noise, “I’m not translating it right. They think you’re my stud— that I brought you in from America or England to… breed.”
Horrified, Steve almost swerves the car off the road. “What— does that happen often?”
“Often enough that they may call it in. It’s not illegal, technically, but if they catch wind of possible trafficking…”
“Oh,” Steve checks the rearview mirror, suddenly all too aware of the surrounding cars and trucks. “What’s our move, Nat? Do you think they’ll actually come after us?”
She shakes her head again, “Best to get to St. Petersburg. We can call Tony from there, and switch out cars. If someone’s on our tail, they’re bound to know where we’re headed anyways. Stark can get us new documents by the time we reach the base.”
“Fine. I assume you know your way around the city?”
“Steve,” Natasha coos, “haven’t I taught you not to ask questions you already know the answer to?”
He shoots her a grin, “Good, then you’re in charge of ditching our ride. I’ll make a few calls.”
“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Natasha murmurs as she reclines in the seat, shifting to give herself a good view of both side mirrors while still seeing clearly out the front windshield. She crosses her feet at the ankle and pulls down the lid of a carefully worn baseball cap. If Steve didn’t know better, he would assume she fell asleep in the passenger seat.
They spend the last two hours of the drive in a tense silence, both of them on high alert. Steve knows from experience that Hydra likes to hide in plain sight— so he scans license plates, calculates distances, and carefully surveys the people in each car, looking for anything out of the ordinary. So far, nothing.
That changes when they enter the city.
Immediately, both of them sit up straighter, scanning the surrounding lanes for a threat.
“Do you—”
“Yes, stay alert,” Natasha hisses. Her hands are digging rapidly through her backpack until they pull out their last international phone. In one swift motion, she destroys it on the dashboard, lowering the window to sprinkle pieces onto the highway, sure to be crushed further by oncoming vehicles.
Steve changes lanes, inching closer to the quickly passing exit ramps. He doesn’t see a suspicious car— no black sedans, no tinted windows— but the feeling of being watched is undeniable.
“Exit here.”
Natasha’s voice is flat, and if Steve wasn’t listening for it, he would have missed the direction. Instead, he steps on the gas and throws the car into the right lane, barely avoiding the traffic cones as he speeds down the single exit ramp.
“Slower,” Natasha is reaching behind him as he merges back into traffic, this time heading West into the heart of the city. “When we get into the city, look for a coffee shop. You’re going to drop me off. Drive around the corner and watch for me— I’ll order you a drink inside and pretend I’m grabbing an item from my car. Instead, you will switch places with me, and sit outdoors drinking what I order. Keep your eyes up, run if you need to. I’ll rendezvous within an hour. Got it?”
“Got it,” Steve confirms, already slowing down as they breach the populated city limits. It isn’t long until he’s pulling up to a small café and Natasha is sauntering down the sidewalk, drawing any nearby attention to herself as he swings the car around back.
Traffic is thick, stifling, and he’s grateful to have the intel portion of this operation. Within five minutes, Natasha is in his rearview mirror, and he steps out of the vehicle to offer her the wheel.
He pulls his own hat lower to shield his face before slipping into the coffee shop, sidestepping immediately and settling into a corner table. There are three other patrons, all scattered throughout the space and engaged in the work in front of them. No threats yet.
“Peter?” a heavily accented voice calls, and Steve has to stop himself from flinching. It’s a common name— he needs to get himself under control. The voice calls out, “Peter?” once more, just as a tall, well-built man strides through the door, walking up the counter and picking up the drink.
The man turns around, “Huh. Didn’t know you were goin’ by Peter these days.”
“Sam,” Steve breathes, meeting his friends’ eyes with a shocked smile. He jumps to his feet and pulls the other man into a hug. It’s shakey— both of them chuckling and holding on tight— but the embrace is warm and feels like home.
“The hell are you doing here?” Steve grabs his arm, steering them both outside and towards the patio. “Not that I’m not grateful to see you, but… how did you find us?”
Sam shoots him a disbelieving look, placing the coffee cup between them before reclining back in his seat, “I got a tip a few days ago— something about Hydra and a base nearby. Stark got me a ride over yesterday and said I could plan on intercepting you here.”
Something in his face turns thoughtful, “You seriously didn’t see Redwing on the way in?”
“Uh,” Steve sorts through the details of their fast paced cut into the city, but can’t remember Sam’s drone being anywhere in sight.
Sam chuckles, “I followed you from the moment you entered the city— c’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t see him, not with the way you were driving.”
“Dammit, Sam,” Steve curses. “We thought…” and then he laughs, slumping back into the patio chair and scrubbing his face. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
Sam spreads his arms wide, and gives Steve his widest, most charming smile, “Takes one to know one, Cap.”
There’s a beat of silence as Steve sips his drink— it’s perfect, not that he expected anything less from Natasha. Sam looks good, if not a bit tired. The smile on his face is practiced, and Steve knows it’s more for his sake than anything. They’ve never lied to each other, never had the opportunity to, so if Sam is appearing strained and weary, Steve knows he’s supposed to notice.
“Decide not to take a pardon, then?” Steve hedges, watching as Sam raises an eyebrow in amusement.
“No, Steve,” he looks out into traffic, carefully thoughtful, “it’s been a rough few months since Germany, but Sharon and I have been doing some ground work wherever King T’Challa is willing to send us. There’s a lot of shit going down, and— up until now— the only goal I really had was finding you again.”
A rush of guilt hits Steve in the chest, and he winces, “Look, I’m sorry for leaving you—”
“Hey, no— don’t do that,” Sam dismisses him, waving away the apology with one hand, “I knew you had to go to Wakanda, I had other shit that needed to get done.”
“Still, you deserved a better friend than that.”
Sam laughs, but the sound lacks any real joy, “I think we all deserved better than we got.”
There’s not much to say after, and Steve takes a long pull of his drink, trying discreetly to check his watch. Forty minutes until Natasha returns.
And speaking of, “So where did the Widow herself head off to?” Sam asks, checking his own watch. “Thought I’d catch both of you here.”
“Switching out cars. We assumed Hydra was tracking us into the city,” Steve narrows his eyes across the table, and it makes Sam laugh again.
“Damn, well... can’t say I’m sorry. Stark wanted me to keep a low profile until we crossed paths, and…” Sam sits up taller and leans across the table, forcing Steve to meet his eyes, “he mentioned something about keeping you stable.”
“God dammit—”
“Language.”
“Shut up, Sam,” Steve huffs, scrubbing his face with one hand, “why can’t Tony keep shit to himself.”
“Something I shouldn’t know about?”
Sam’s always been good at coaxing answers out of him, and Steve curses the other Alpha mentally for it. Why does he always attract friends who know him better than he knows himself?
“I found my soulmate, Sam.”
Jerking forward, the other Alpha’s eyes grow wide as his hands come down, hard, on the table. “Shit, Steve. When on earth did you have time—”
“I didn’t, Sam. That’s the thing. Fuck—”
He feels rage flow through his body for the first time in ages, and Steve’s hit with a flash of their bonding moment, marred by fear and devastation from his young Omega. He closes his eyes, remembering the residual pain from each heat. Scared and empty and alone.
There’s a hand on his arm, but Steve shakes it off, “Remember the kid Stark brought to Germany? Spider-man?”
“Sure, Bucky and I fought the kid, and he stuck us to the floor.”
“I fought him, too,” Steve sighs, rolling up the sleeve over his left arm to show the bright red and irritated word etched into his skin, “and I kicked him right in the chest.”
Sam doesn’t reach forward to touch. He barely gives it a glance, reaching over to roll up his own sleeve. Steve has to stop himself from growling in sympathy— the writing is black, smudged and illegible.
“Sam…”
With a sad smile, Sam rolls his shirt back in place, “It was years ago— and we bonded in combat. I got a few years with him on active duty, and then I felt when he was shot out of the sky.”
Sam meets his eyes, “Fucked me up good for a few years.”
“I had no idea.”
“I’m better now, sure. Wouldn’t show you if I wasn’t. Just letting you know, whatever you’re going through with this kid— because obviously you’re not with him now— that you’ve gotta value whatever time you get. In our line of business? I’m grateful I got years instead of moments, you know?”
Something clenches in his chest. Steve feels tears prick his eyes. He has to look away, afraid of the suddenly all too real possibility of crying in public. Quickly, he covers it up with a swig of cooling coffee, letting the emotions wash away alongside the bitter, familiar taste.
“I’ve never even met the kid, Sam. All I know is that he’s an Omega, and he has a strong bond with Tony.” Steve sighs, checking his watch again, “We were supposed to be extracted in Oslo, but got the tip instead. I’ll head home to him after we take care of the threat here.”
He can tell Sam disapproves of this choice, but the other Alpha just shakes his head, nodding to draw Steve’s attention back to the street, “Looks like our ride is here,” he chuckles just as a beat up Jeep swerves across traffic, coming to an abrupt stop in front of them.
The window rolls down, and Natasha makes a show of lowering her sunglasses, “Pickin’ up strays, Rogers?”
Both of them stand and approach the car, and Sam smiles as he takes the backseat, “Good to see you too, Romanoff.”
“I hope you brought your uniform,” she muses, swerving back into traffic once both of them are buckled in, “we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”
---
Peter
I think you’d hate my friends, Alpha. I don’t know, maybe not. I think you’d like that they wanna take care of me, even if they’re both little pieces of shit. I bet a visit from Captain America would shut them up. Or… Are you still Captain America, Steve?
Just as Peter finishes the line, the main cafeteria doors slam open. Both of his friends— MJ and Ned— have their arms in the air, gesturing animatedly.
“There you are!”
It’s as if he summoned them. Damn Spidey-senses, never working when he needs them to.
Peter squirms in his seat, “Hey, guys…” he checks his exits, noting quick escape routes. Sure, he’s never actually needed to run from his friends, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. “What’s up?”
Ned scoots into the bench next to him, pressing in close and draping an arm over Peter’s shoulders. MJ takes a seat on Peter’s other side, and both of them give Peter award-winning smiles— terrifying, really. Matching smiles only usually mean one thing.
“Can’t we just hang anymore, Parker?” MJ rolls her eyes, taking a discreet look at the pages in front of Peter on the table.
He quickly closes his notebook, “Sure, sure. I mean, we can hang— we hang all the time,” Peter catches them exchanging a glance, and sighs, “is there something you want? I’m trying to get homework done before practice.”
With a shake to his shoulders, Ned chuckles nervously, “No, no… we’re just looking out— ow!”
Peter looks down. MJ definitely kicked him.
“— I mean, we’re just wondering…”
“You wanna go to a Halloween party, Peter?” MJ cuts in, flicking at Ned’s arm where it’s still draped around his shoulder. Her face is open, fairly honest, and it catches Peter off guard.
“When’s Halloween?” he asks, thankful when Ned pulls his arm back.
The two of them exchange another look, “Uh…” Ned clears his throat, “it’s today, Peter. Today’s Halloween.”
“Oh.” Peter peeks into his folders to check the date on today’s homework, and sure enough, October Thirtyfirst is printed clearly across every page. Huh. He’s usually great at remembering holidays like this. “I wonder why May didn’t say anything…”
“Because,” MJ grabs his backpack, starting to shove notebooks and textbooks back inside, “we asked her to keep it a surprise. And your mom, too. We just didn’t think you were enough of a dumbass to miss the whole holiday.”
“Honestly, Peter, I don’t get how clueless you can be.”
He just nods along, letting the two of them pull him out of the cafeteria and walk towards the carpool lane. Maybe some part of him wanted them to find him today— who knows? Several other, better, hiding spots come to mind, but Peter doesn’t have it in him to protest.
A night off sounds like too much fun.
His mood immediately improves when they step outside. Parked closest to them, dark and intimidating on the curb, is one of Mr. Stark’s cars.
Happy is standing outside, holding the back door open, “Hey, kid. C’mon— haven’t got all day.”
“Oh!” Peter turns to his friends, both of their expressions smug and satisfied, “Please tell me the party’s at the compound? Oh god, I literally have nothing to wear. I have no idea—”
“We’ve got it taken care of,” MJ pushes him from behind, and Ned laughs, motioning for Peter to get in the car first.
“How did you—” Peter slides into the back seat, freezing when he sees who’s waiting for him, “Mama!”
Mr. Stark smiles— wide and genuine— and opens his arms wide. “Hey, kid. Surprise?”
Peter melts into the older Omega’s arms and squirms to get closer, ignoring how his friends laugh and tease him as he does so. Mr. Stark ruffles his hair, and rearranges them as the car starts moving. Ducking under his arm, Peter settles into Mr. Stark’s side and lets his eyes slip shut with the steady movement and noise of chatter in the background.
“You have a good day, Pete?”
He looks up to Mr. Stark and smiles, “It was okay, a lot better now. Did you help plan this?”
“What do you think, bambino? These friends of yours are… passionate.”
The description makes Peter chuckle. He’s fully aware just how passionate his friends can be. They are digging through the amenities stored in hidden compartments, and somehow both end up with a can of soda and several boxes of candy.
Peter ignores them in favor of burying himself into the warmth of Mr. Stark’s scent. There are lazy, calloused fingers in his hair, and he relaxes even more— a pleased purr building effortlessly from his chest.
When they eventually pull up to the compound, Ned and MJ are out in a shot— barreling through the doors and screaming into the empty halls.
Before Peter can leave the car, Mr. Stark grabs his shoulders and turns them to face each other, staring intentionally into his eyes. “If you don’t want to do this, Peter, we don’t have to? I have about fifty people coming over for a costume party, but I can cancel it and we can spend the night just us, if you’d like?”
He takes a moment to actually think it over. His skin is crawling, eyes already heavy with exhaustion. The thought of socializing with more than a few people is turning his stomach, and he looks into Mr. Stark’s eyes with a helpless grimace, “I guess I wouldn’t mind a party…”
“But you’d rather not?” Mr. Stark guesses, giving him a knowing smirk. Peter scrunches up his nose and shakes his head, and gets a chuckle in response, “Alright bambino, let me make a few calls. Why don’t you go inside and coral the animals.”
Peter laughs and leans in to give Mr. Stark a quick peck on the cheek, “Okay, Mama. Don’t work too hard.”
He catches a glimpse of Mr. Stark’s embarrassed flush before hopping out of the car, skipping towards the compound joyfully. Now that the threat of social interaction is out of the way, Peter feels excited about Halloween and the evening ahead of them.
“Ned?” He calls out, “MJ? Where are you guys?”
“Try the Eastern living room, Peter,” Friday’s voice rings out in the hallway, and Peter turns around to race down the corridor in the opposite direction, still calling out their names.
“In here, Pete!” Ned hollers.
When he turns the corner, Peter comes face to face with the classiest Halloween party room he’s ever seen. Every wall is covered in glass decorations, backlit with soft lights in various colors. An entire section of the room has been converted to a wardrobe, and both of his friends are rifling through the options.
Peter gravitates towards them, pushing aside different dresses and masks, “What’s…”
“Look, Pete— I’m you!” MJ has a Spider-man mask pulled down over her face as she laughs, pretending to shoot webs from her wrists, “bet I’d be a kick-ass Spider-man.”
He just shakes his head, “I bet you would, MJ.”
“What about me?”
Both of them turn to look at Ned as he wobbles over, legs and arms shoved haphazardly into the wrong end of a Spider-man onesie. His face is so confident as he stands in the middle of the room, and Peter can’t help the cackle that bursts out of his mouth, bringing tears to his eyes as he keels over in laughter.
“Where did… what did…” he can barely breathe, and looking up again at Ned is just a mistake.
MJ isn’t any better. She tears off the mask and coughs loudly, falling to the floor in a heap, “Ned! Where did you find that?”
“What?” Ned whines, striking a pose that sends them back into a fit of hysterics, “I don’t get how you can fight bad guys in this Peter— I feel too sexy for crime right now.”
“Please!” Peter begs as he wipes away tears, “mercy!”
“What’s all the— oh mother of god,” Mr. Stark’s voice rings out in the room, and it sends all three teenagers back into peels of laughter. He stands at the entrance to the living room with his arms crossed and an indulgent smile stretched across his face, and Peter lets himself roll on the floor and laugh and laugh and laugh.
Peter turns onto his back and lets the tears flow. They drench his cheeks and drip onto the rug, creating small spots on both sides of his head. It feels good— freeing. His next inhale is deep, his mind clears completely, and Peter realizes this is the first time he’s laughed in months. That every time he’s cried in the past few weeks has been full of devastation and sorrow.
Their combined scents slowly fill the room and bind them together as the evening progresses, each of them relaxing further and further into the moment. By the time the sun’s setting, Ms. Potts and Aunt May arrive with delivery, and the small group of them curl up on the couches to watch a Halloween movie.
Mr. Stark and Pepper take the love seat, and— with one last, longing gaze at the small spot in between them— Peter settles into a lump of blankets and pillows on the far end of the longer couch. He keeps a good distance between himself and his friends at the other end, but he can tell that there’s some awkward tension in the room as the movie starts to play.
He tries to ignore it, but Aunt May keeps giving him a look from her seat on a nearby chair.
“What?” he hisses at her, pouting a bit when she smirks.
May points at the loveseat and whispers, “You should sit with them. I know you wanna.”
“Stop!” Peter shakes his head in denial, “I’m not going to—”
“Hey, pup!” Mr. Stark calls from across the room, and Peter flushes. He knows the nickname is aimed at him.
Peter pulls the blankets up around his face, “Yes, Mama?”
There’s a snort from the MJ-Ned-shaped-lump, but it’s ignored. Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts exchange a few hushed words before motioning for him to join them, “Come on over, Peter,” Pepper says with a confident smile, “plenty of room to join us.”
He’s up and out of the seat before he even processes moving.
At different points in his life, Peter has imagined how it might feel to curl up, safe and warm, between his parents. Never, in a million years, did he think he would get to experience that.
But the space between Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts feels like home. Scents like home. It’s sweet and warm in a way Aunt May’s Beta scent has never been. Peter has never scented Ms. Potts up close, but he’s not surprised when her scent has him immediately relaxing, melting back into the couch cushions.
The only Alpha he’s ever been close to is MJ, and her scent is terrifying .
Pepper lifts her arm and gives him a small smile, “You comfortable, Peter?”
Words won’t come, his senses are on overload. He feels a hand on his shoulder as Mr. Stark moves him, turning him bodily to lay across their laps with his feet in Pepper’s lap, head on Mr. Stark’s shoulder.
“Just relax, bambino,” Mr. Stark whispers, scratching at the baby hairs behind Peter’s ear, “we’ve got you.”
He lets his eyes close slowly. Both of them are scent-marking him subtly— squeezing his arms and legs, kissing his hair, and laying a blanket over him sometime later. The movie passes by completely unnoticed, and Peter dozes comfortably.
Why can’t every night be like tonight?
As the thrill of the night is fading away, Peter hears Mr. Stark offer his friends a ride back to the city. The two of them are fading as well, and it doesn’t take much convincing to get them out the door and into a waiting car.
May kisses him on the head before she leaves, “Sure you don’t want me to stay, Pete?”
“M’sure,” he murmurs, blinking up at her lazily, “you have work in the morning, right?”
“Yeah, champ. I do. You okay staying the night here, or do you want to head back with me?”
Peter looks back at Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts with a hopeful smile. Both of them laugh, and Mr. Stark waves his hand dismissively, “You know you’re always wanted here, Pete.”
“By both of us,” Pepper adds, squeezing his leg where her hand is resting.
“Alright, alright, I can take a hint,” May chuckles. She leans in for another kiss and Mr. Stark gets up to walk her out, leaving Peter and Pepper together on the couch.
He looks up at her. Everything about Pepper screams an intimidating mix of composure and warmth. Now that Mr. Stark is gone, he can separate their scents— and something about her distinct Alpha scent has him ducking his head, shy and submissive.
There’s a light touch on his arm, “Don’t hide from me, Peter,” her grin is soft and reassuring, “if you feel uncomfortable with me like this, you don’t have to stay— you know that, right?”
Her eyes are kind and not at all judgemental. He believes her doubtlessly.
“We haven’t spent much time together, have we?” Peter asks, hesitantly.
Pepper shakes her head, strawberry hair sweeping gracefully over her shoulder, “No, I don’t think so. Tony does come home smelling of you often, though.”
“Oh!” Peter sniffs his shirt, grimacing, “sorry about that, he helps me…”
“No, don’t worry, Peter,” she places a hand on his shoulder again, “I just meant that I’m familiar with your scent already. Tony even puts some of your items in our nest— I know he wants me to get used to our scents together.”
“Why… why would he do that?”
“Oh, Peter,” Pepper sighs. She shakes her head and leans back against the cushions, “we’re gone on you Peter. We really want to adopt you… at least informally.”
“She’s right.”
Mr. Stark’s voice is loud in the living room as he makes his way back to the couch. With a little bit of maneuvering, Peter is stuck in between them again, and this time he’s resting against Pepper’s chest. Her arms easily settle next to him on the sofa, aware of his space and cautious not to close him in.
“We have a secret plot to adopt and steal you away, kid,” Mr. Stark smirks and kicks his legs up, sipping on a drink as they settle together. “I just needed to get proper approval beforehand, you know?”
Peter hums, and he knows his own scent has gone sweet in satisfaction. The thought of being adopted— having a mom and dad, Alpha and Omega— is overwhelming.
“You promise?” Peter whispers. Part of him is scared of the possible rejection, even though he knows Mr. Stark rarely lies to him.
“Of course, bambino— whatever you want.”
As they cuddle together on the couch, trading hushed stories and sweet laughter, Peter has a thought.
It’s not the most responsible thought he’s ever had. If Mr. Stark digs too deep, he’ll chalk it up to being a teenager, being emotional, being an Omega.
“Mama?” Peter stares up at Mr. Stark with his best puppy-dog expression, and pouts his bottom lip, “Can I ask a favor?”
“I’m suspicious already, but sure— what is it?”
Pepper chuckles behind him, and Peter reaches down to hold her hand for comfort, “Can you get my letters to Steve?”
With a loud cough, Mr. Stark chokes on his drink and sputters. His hands fly up and wave around frantically, possibly looking for something to anchor him. Peter curls further into the shield of Pepper’s body and lets her deal with the aftermath— patting Mr. Stark’s back and criticizing him for being so dramatic.
“In what—“ Mr. Stark starts, coughing hard, “In what universe would that be a good idea, Peter?”
“I... I didn’t...”
“Actually,” Pepper interrupts, interlacing their fingers together, “I think that might be a good idea.”
Mr. Stark looks betrayed, affronted. Peter turns to smile up at her, “Really? You think so?”
“Once your hormones are stable, why not?” Pepper asks, kicking at Mr. Stark when her Omega makes a disappointed face, “It might be helpful for your Alpha to hear from you.”
“Get his head on straight,” Mr. Stark grumbles. His hands are clenched, and he refuses to look at them.
There’s a beat of silence where Peter just stares at Mr. Stark, hoping for an answer. He knows it’s a big favor to ask— but if anyone can get it done, he knows Tony Stark can.
“Fine.”
---
Hi Steven Grant Rogers, God. Would you make me take your name? I really hate that. Maybe I’ll ask you to take my name instead. Mr. Stark said I could send you one letter every month, and that if you respond, I can have that letter back. I hope you respond. Uh... I’m not sure what else to say. My name is Peter and I’m in high school. I know that makes things hard for you, being old as dirt, but I hope when we meet that it won’t be too awkward. I hope you stay safe. I’m finally on suppressants and doing better than I was before. Your words on my arm barely hurt anymore. Okay. That’s all for now. Yours, Peter Benjamin Parker Oh! PS I’ve sent a little sample of what I scent like. Mama said that you would like that.
Tag list (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @purplefreakwolffish @instantsharkskeletonpizza @justslightlycrazy @angelstarker @femmeparker @starkeraddictbaby @starkentrprises @snowstark @sarcastich
#spidershield#lookin for love#lfl#spidershield: lfl#update#fanfic#steve x peter#ao3 fanfic#fluff#found family#no hurt this chapter! yay!#chapter 5#mcu#rare pair
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Cherish you
couple : Jinyoung x reader
genre : romance, smut, angst
disclaimer: self esteem issues
word count: 1963
"I'd like to date you"
His words caught you by surprise, you were walking with your childhood best friend, Jinyoung, after a few weeks of busy schedule he came to your door and asked you to walk with him. You went to a park near your house at midnight to avoid fans screaming at your face.
He was sitting on the bench and you were standing by the fountain, watching the goldfish swimming peacefully, trying to remember how your conversation ended up here.
You stood there for a minute, the silence was overwhelming, you were trying to keep your thoughts steady, biting your lip.
He loved you? How was that possible? Jinyoung wasn't the boy next door anymore.
He was a famous idol now, a handsome boy who could kill you with just his looks and angelic voice.
And who were you? Someone who was struggling through college, no plans for the future or your life. You were known to be the clumsy girl who always gets in trouble, and not particularly pretty
Jinyoung was way better than you
"I don't like you"
————————————————————————
You sighed loudly and buried your face in the towel. Just after you thought you could avoid Jinyoung the day after your last meeting. Your parents had to invite him and his family over.
You did like Jinyoung, but he was out of your league, you had to lie and say you don't love him so he would give it up. He deserved better, better than you.
After last night's confession your feelings for him had gotten stronger and you felt terrible for letting him down.
You looked at your own reflection, put on some makeup to look lively, you didn't want anyone to know how you felt.
You wore a plain black dress, something comfortable and not too formal. You took a last look in the mirror and sighed deeply.
You walked down the stairs and looked at the empty dining room, the table was set and everything was ready. You heard the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door, but no one was downstairs so you had to do it yourself.
As soon as the door opened you were faced by Jinyoung and his parents, and you welcomed them. They all smiled widely except for Jinyoung, he looked pale and anxious, you probably looked worse.
You smiled weakly and moved away to let them in, Jinyoung was the last one to come in.
"hi.." he said quietly, you nodded and closed the door behind him.
During the dinner you were quiet, was it the right choice to let him down? The more you thought about it the more insecure you'd felt.
You looked up and saw Jinyoung looking at you, how long has he been staring? His food was untouched, you blushed and looked at your own plate.
Jinyoung grinned and started eating his food.
After dinner the grown ups decided to drink wine in the backyard, so you were left alone with Jinyoung in the living room.
"Can we go somewhere else?" Jinyoung looked around the room.
"fine.. Let's go upstairs" you sighed and stood up. You walked up the stairs and Jinyoung followed you.
You entered the room and waited for Jinyoung to come in. You closed the door behind you, Jinyoung looked around with wandering eyes, you looked at his back, he was perfect in all the ways possible.
"cut the crap" Jinyoung's voice brought you back to reality. You weren't expecting him to say this, but before you could say anything Jinyoung trapped you between the door and himself
Your eyes widened and your heart beat rose, he placed his hand on your cheeks and looked at you with a burning glare.
"why don't you believe in yourself? You deserve the world" he punched the door which made you jump "if only you could see yourself the way I see you" you shook your head and tried to hold back the tears.
"Trust me baby, just let me show you" he lowered his hand, caressing your face, his warm hands were enough for you to lose control.
"Let me show you, let me show you how much I love you" he looked you in the eye and before you could do anything you felt his lips on yours. His lips devoured you, all you could feel was his soft lips. You needed the sweet taste, the warm feeling, his lips were oxygen and you were desperate for air. Jinyoung moved you to the bed without breaking the kiss, he put you on the bed and pushed you down, you looked at Jinyoung and the smirk on his face, how could you say no to this man?
He leaned closer and kissed your lips, you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer.
His lips, how his hands moved all over your body, he did make you feel loved. However when his hands tugged onto your dress you pulled away
Jinyoung noticed it and stopped
"Do you want me to undress first?" before you could nod he took his shirt off
"see? It's all right" you placed your hand on his bare masculine chest
"let me worship your body tonight" he moved away, you whined but he went lower and kissed your neck, you moaned, Jinyoung smiled and went lower.
Every movement made you feel good.
He unzipped your dress and you didn't argue, his hands stroking your body, you wanted to cover yourself up but Jinyoung's kissed distracted you
He brushed his fingertips on your waist, stomach and chest kissing you passionately.
He leaned back and scanned your half naked body, as if he was trying to memorize everything
"Jinyoung.." you mumbled, you couldn't bear his glance. Your hands moved to cover your chest
"no baby don't do this" he grabbed your hands and placed them on the bed.
"you're perfect" he pressed his lips on you body, kissing your neck
"So pretty and there is so much I haven't seen" he played with your bra straps.
"How is your skin so soft?" you chuckled and covered you face
"Let me take off my pants to be fair" Jinyoung walked away from you, his eyes never leaving you. He pulled down his pants and now he was only in his black boxers. His manhood was already hard.
And you knew you were going to be in pain
"Don't worry, baby, I won’t hurt you." He pressed his hand on your lower body gently to ease your tension.
You moaned, not in pain, but in pleasure.,
"Told you so" he chuckled, which made you smile too.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his body closer.
"That's it baby, bring me closer." he whispered in your ear and licked your earlobe.
His hands went to the bra and opened it easily. He squeezed your breasts and kissed your neck while his body was hovering over you
The only thing you could do was moan through the good feeling
He lowered his head and approached your chest. You rubbed his hands along your hips. You had no control over his movements on your body. "I have been waiting for this for a long time," he said.
You did not know how each kiss he put on your body made you love yourself more. It increased your self-confidence.
"Will you let me?" He said softly as he played with the edge of your panties. You nodded and he took off the only clothes you were wearing. You were now naked.
"I'm so lucky to have you"
He threw your panties on the floor, you blushed out of embarrassment,
"I wish you knew how great you are," put his lips on your naked body and began to kiss you. You ran your hand through his hair and a faint smile appeared on Jinyoung’s face.
Slowly, he kissed you body until he reached below your abdomen
"You are great." He raised his head and said, He stuck out his tongue and wet your entrance slowly. You held your breath and raised your body a little. While he was still staring at you,
"Does it feel good, mm? I'll make you feel better" he said, You grabbed the bed sheets in response.
With half-closed eyes, you said, "Jinyoung" begged him to stop, but Jinyoung increased his speed. He did stop even for a second, instead he pressed his lips against your wet entrance. Your moans got louder.
His pace was constantly changing, he was slow, sweet and cautious, but when your moans filled the whole room, he became faster and harsher. When he finally moved away from your body, you called his name under your lips.
"Please" You said between your breaths
" Please what?" He stared at you with dark, hungry eyes. He licked his wet lips and waited for an answer
You said under your breath, "I want you." You wanted his body more than just his touch and kisses.
"Sure" He grinned and said, he lifted himself up on your body, leaving kisses all over you. It started with your belly and ended with your lips
You kissed his lips eagerly and grabbed his shoulders. He distanced himself from you between kisses and said
"Are you taking pills again? I didn’t bring any condom"
"yeah,, don’t worry"
You wrapped your hand around his neck and he brought his lower body closer to you,
You could feel the tip of the dick on your entrance. You moaned and bit your lip.
"Fuck Baby you’re too Tight"
He inserted his member. You moaned loudly and pressed your nails into his body.
He put his face in your neck and stood still for a few moments so that you could get used to his dick. "Baby, try to relax," he said under his breath. Jinyoung brought his face up and kissed your lips. Gradually the pain disappeared and pleasure took over . You loosened the pressure of your hands and ran your fingertips over his shoulders and back
Jinyoung, realizing that your pain had subsided, began to move his hips. At first, his movements were slow but deep, and with each movement he pressed against your inner walls.
The room was full of your vague moans, because you did not want your parents to hear anything.
Jinyoung praised your body second by second. Your beauty. The softness of your skin, how every little think makes your body perfect.
Gradually, his blows became more intense and violent. Your body was going up and down involuntarily
He took his hand to your cheeks and caressed it gently. You got lost in his dark eyes.
" I love you " He said under his breath.
You could no longer control yourself, your body was shaking. Your moans were louder. Every time you opened your mouth to say something, more moans came out and Jinyoung simply smiled and knew that your body was reaching its peak.
"Baby" he kissed your lips gently
Your body was drenched in sweat.
"Are you coming, mm?" A few more strokes were enough and you reached your orgasm. You pulled your head back and moaned loudly. Jinyoung pushed his whole dick inside you, his body was giving up too.
You kept repeating his name under your breath. You wrapped your legs around his waist to get closer to him. You grabbed his hair. His blows were hard again and his slow moans hit you hit, warming your body. Jinyoung came as he moaned loudly into you ear
"I love you." You swallowed and said in a soft voice, Jinyoung smiled and kissed your neck.
It did not matter what you imagined in your mind, Jinyoung could make you forget everything and be the happiest person on earth.
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