#but.... I have read like all my own fics too.....
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If You Only Knew | Aaron Hotchner
My One and Only prequel
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader
Summary: Broken hearts find each other and in the process, they mend each other.
Word count: 10.7k
Tags/warnings: season 10 Hotch <3; cheating (on reader); food and alcohol consumption; Hotch has a soft spot for reader<3; lazy case talk whoops; canon typical violence; one bed trope; smut: unprotected and dirty office sex (p in v); secret relationship; stolen glances and kisses in forbidden places!!1!
Author’s note: I don’t usually do second parts mostly because I wrap up the story in a single one shot, but while writing the first fic I had this prequel in mind because oh boy, they have HISTORY (which is why it ended up being longer than My One and Only). Both can be read as a stand alone. First fic was based on Dress by miss T. Swift, and this one is like a mash up of every Taylor’s ovulation songs (I listened to this playlist a lot while writing this) 🙂↔️ Call It What You Want x I Can See You being the main inspo. Or were the songs inspired by them???🧐 it’s just so sexy sexy. Anyway, hope you enjoy!!!!
MASTERLIST
There used to be an engagement ring on your right hand.
A bright but simple ring that from the moment it was given to you, had you hopeful about your future. That future had always been uncertain. You rarely pictured yourself more than two years ahead, to begin with—for many reasons, neither worth mentioning—but no matter how long your future was, you were sure it was going to be just as bright as your ring.
And how wrong you were…
It hadn’t been more than two months since your fiancé promised you the world when you caught him in a lie. You’d let it slip away, fidgeting your ring as a reminder that he was the one.
If you hadn’t ignored the signs, you would’ve saved yourself from getting your heart ripped out.
He cheated, and even worse, you caught him in the act, with another woman in your own bed. You stormed out leaving every door open. Zac came running behind you, yelling your name, but you didn’t stop. You ripped the engagement ring off your finger and threw it at him without looking back. That clink of the band bouncing on the pavement was so faint compared to the sound of your castle crumbling, and your prince kept yelling at you to come back.
You didn’t. You got in your car and drove off aimlessly.
You’d been driving around the city blasting music since then, and yelling the lyrics hoping you’d go numb. You didn’t, but at least you had some clarity.
You had nowhere to be. There was no home anymore, no bed to sleep on, and no arms to run to. The place you used to call home now was stained with lies and haunted by another woman.
The only place that could shelter you for the night was the BAU. At the end of the day, that was your home. You spent most of your days there with the people you worked with. People who would take a bullet for you. They were your family—Derek being the one you loved the most—but you couldn’t run to him or any of them right now. The wound was too fresh and letting them see you like this would be disappointing and just… sad. They’ve always known you as a tough and reasonable woman. How were you supposed to tell them you weren’t that smart now that your entire relationship crumbled?
You parked at your usual spot and searched for your emergency go bag in the backseat. It was always stocked with everything you needed for at least a week. You weren’t planning on staying at the BAU for an entire week, of course, but also, you never knew. Your ex was capable of lighting your house on fire just to get rid of any evidence of his betrayal so for now, that bag was all you had.
You took a deep breath and made your way inside the building. You walked through security as you always did and smiled at the night guard. It was Rick, the oldest of them all but you felt the safest when he was at the door.
“What brings you here at this hour, young lady?” Rick adjusted his ivy cap.
It was past three in the morning.
“Piled up paperwork,” you merely said.
And he didn’t question you. “Oh, sure,” he answered politely with his old, raspy voice.
You smiled at him and made your way to the elevator, pushing the number six as you always did. You kicked the bag with your knee until the doors dinged open.
Not a single soul received you.
You walked past the glass doors and reached your desk, looking up at Hotch’s office that was right across. He had a couch there that you could use as your bed for a few hours. Everyone has slept there at least once— for whatever reason—and now it was your turn. You marched up the short stairs and paused. You knew his office remained unlocked (he once said that he’d lost the key, but deep down you knew he left it open in case anyone needed somewhere to crash for the night).
You knocked, just in case, and once there was no answer, you twisted the knob. His perfume was faint in the air—soft and woody—so it was easy to assume he’d left not long ago. You closed the door behind you and walked to the couch, leaving your bag there and turning the lamp on.
The dim light triggered the memories of the moment that tore you apart hours earlier: Another woman riding your fiancé. They even dared to light up romantic candles.
Your fucking candles.
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered.
You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You wasted three years of your life and now with a cool head, you realized it was in your hands how you handled it. It could either be the best thing that's happened to you or you could let it drag you down.
Right then, you decided the first option was the only one. You stood there, both hands on your hips, your chin up and took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air until your chest swelled.
This was going to be the only night you’d let yourself mourn your relationship. No tears. Just you and a glass of scotch. It wasn’t your drink of choice but it was all Hotch kept in his office and you knew exactly where he kept the bottle (right under his espresso machine García had gotten him for his birthday a couple of years ago). You crouched down and opened the little cabinet. The bottle was almost full and you wondered if it was brand new or if he rarely drank. You shrugged it off. You poured yourself some and began pacing around his office.
You’ve been here a million times and you’d never paid much attention to all the things he had. There were quite a few awards granted by the bureau displayed on the wall behind his desk; a bunch of books, too. You ran your fingers through them as you walked from end to end. He had a picture of Jack and Haley over his desk and you looked around, searching for a picture of Beth. Your eye landed on her contagious smile, over the little table by his couch. You walked there to get a better look at the picture. She was looking at the camera and he was looking at her. You’d met her a few times and it was nice seeing Hotch in love again. After Haley, everyone thought he’d refuse to let someone in again, but when love knocks on your door there’s not much you can do.
You sighed deeply and placed your empty glass in front of the picture. The alcohol was making you sleepy so you made yourself comfortable. You went to brush your teeth, put on your pajamas and fuzzy socks, made a blanket out of your blazer, and used your folded pants as a pillow.
You rubbed your feet together. It wasn’t a cold night, but you wished you didn’t have to spend it alone.
The constant sound of a pen scraping on paper gradually woke you up.
Shit.
You meant to sleep only a few hours and have Hotch’s office as it was before he got here; pretend you’d gotten there earlier than everyone. You must’ve slept through your alarm.
You slowly squinted your eyes open and caught Hotch sitting at his desk, brows low in deep thought.
How long has he been there?
“Hotch.” You rubbed your eyes and sat upright. “Hi. Sorry, I— What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty,” he answered, never taking his eyes off the file.
So you didn’t sleep through your alarm.
“When did you get here? I didn’t hear you.”
“A few minutes ago.” He put the pen down and lifted his head to look at you. His face softened.
He didn’t seem upset about you invading his office but you still felt the need to explain yourself. “I, uh, stayed until late last night and I was too sleepy to drive and—” You realized mid-sentence how bad you were lying.
But he let you.
“It’s not a problem, you can always sleep here. As long as it’s not already taken.” He stared at you for a moment, rubbing his thumb with the rest of his fingers. You wondered how bad you looked. How bad everything seemed. “It has a foldable seat,” was all he said, gesturing at the couch. “There’s a blanket under it.”
“Oh, thanks. It wasn’t that cold.” You braced yourself.
It was cold now.
“You can sleep for another hour,” he added.
“We don’t have a case?”
“No.” He glanced at the open door and then back at you. “Not yet anyway.”
Then why was he here so early?
You smiled at him and began to gather your things anyway. “Thank you, but I still should go. I’m… invading your space.”
“Oh, please. Don’t worry about it,” he said before going back to work on his paper.
Even if he didn’t mind you sleeping there while he worked, you did. You stood up, stretched your neck a bit, and began to fold all of your clothes, putting them back in your bag.
You felt his eyes on you every once in a while and just when you grabbed the evidence of your late night—the empty glass of scotch—he asked, “Is everything alright?”
You looked at him. There was that soft look again.
“Yeah, I just…” you trailed off, fidgeting with your now invisible ring. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
He didn’t have to say anything. He knew. You knew he knew just by that look he gave you. Wise. Emphatic. The ‘I’ve been there before’ look.
He opened his mouth to add something, but his phone buzzed on the table, making him tear his eyes off you. He sighed as his brows lowered.
“Now we have a case?” You asked and he nodded. “I’ll put on some work-appropriate clothes, then.” You looked down at your pajamas.
“Take your time. We’ll meet in thirty.”
The jet took off and the clouds were never-ending.
Two women had been abducted (and murdered) already in Fort Myers before you were invited to investigate. Victimology and M.O. were discussed and you barely said a thing. Your mind kept wandering off to the night before and how miserable you felt. The phantom of betrayal was still heavy on your shoulders.
Hotch sat next to you during the three-hour flight, and the only thing he said to you that wasn’t work-related was: ‘Would you like some coffee’, to which you gladly accepted. His eyes, though, kept asking if you were okay.
Minutes before the jet touched the ground, your phone caught some signal and began to buzz uncontrollably against the table. You already knew who it was so you didn’t bother to glance at the screen, you just sighed in annoyance and put your phone in your pocket. You felt Hotch’s eyes on you again and you tried your best to ignore him.
Right now, he was your boss, not your friend.
The moment the jet doors opened, the dense, humid air stuck to your skin. Everyone groaned in annoyance.
“Ugh, I hate Florida,” Emily commented.
You didn’t mind it. You needed a bit of heat and sun, hoping they’d woosh away the gray cloud over your head.
Hotch assigned everyone’s tasks for the day and partnered you up with Morgan to interview the victims’ families. Smart move. It was known that Morgan was your person inside the team, and even if he didn’t know about your heartbreak right now, he’d surely find out soon after spending the day with you. That’s what Hotch wanted. For you to have someone to talk to if you wanted.
You would’ve preferred to be out in the field instead of inside an office, that way you’d have more distractions. Right now, as you talked to one of the victim’s husbands, your only distraction was your phone. Your ex started to call you again and spam-texting you. He was getting on your nerves and you couldn’t quite focus on your job. The one that you considered was your forte—when it came to good people.
These men weren’t good people. They were exactly like your ex.
And they got on your nerves.
Morgan shot you a frown as he walked the last person out of the office, “What’s going on with you? You almost punched the guy.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.
“I would’ve if you hadn’t caught me.” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m being dead serious, what’s going on with you?”
“He called his dead wife a whore, Morgan.”
“I’m not just talking about this. All morning you’ve been acting weird.”
There was his big brother attitude.
You sighed, shaking your head. You couldn’t not tell him. So you told him. Some of it. “Zac and I are fighting. He keeps calling but I’m not gonna answer yet. He’s gonna have to wait until I’m back.”
“What did he do?” He asked, brows shooting up with concern.
You walked to the small coffee station the sheriff had set up for the team. “We’re just fighting.” You poured yourself some coffee. You couldn’t tell him everything. He was friends with Zac—and a really good one.
“I don’t buy that,” Morgan insisted. “I know what your fights look like. This isn’t a fight over how he didn’t do the dishes.”
You hated how well he knew you. You and Zac. It was sad to think there wouldn’t be any more double dates with him and Savannah.
“I don’t want to talk about it yet,” you merely said.
Morgan let out a huff and glared at you in silence. “Alright.”
He respected you and didn’t bug you any more about it. And neither did Zac, thankfully. The messages and phone calls stopped but even then, you couldn’t get your mind off whatever he wanted to say.
The day went by painfully slowly. Not many leads were found and the unsub seemed to have gone dormant, which meant the investigation was done for the day.
Hotch, JJ, and Rossi were still finishing up a few things with the sheriff, and you decided to wait for them outside, sitting on the sidewalk. There was a dinner reservation at the hotel at nine. It was thirteen past nine and you’d been running on five cups of coffee.
Your stomach rumbled.
Steps came from behind. Morgan silently sat next to you and handed you a protein bar. He sat close, his arm touching yours. “Zac called me.”
“Good for him.” You didn’t bother to look at him. Instead, you began to pick your nails. You weren’t hungry anymore.
“And he told me.” Derek placed one hand over yours, stopping you from destroying your nails.
You shot him a look. “What did he tell you?” You asked because you didn’t think Zac would rat himself out to Morgan.
“I’m on your side,” he said. “He’s my friend, but you’re my sister. He’s dead to me now.” He quirked his brows.
“What did he tell you, Morgan?”
“That you caught him cheating.”
The disappointment on his face was as clear as the night sky.
You tore your eyes off him and sighed.
“I was so stupid.” You rubbed your forehead. “I caught him in lies multiple times and I brushed them all off. Like a part of me wanted that to happen,” you confessed.
“What do you mean? That you didn’t want to marry him?”
“I… I don’t know.” You looked back at Derek. Now that the truth was out you needed to talk about it. Maybe that way you could realize it was all your fault. “I loved him, and he was a great guy but at some point, after the engagement and before the lies, I stopped seeing a future with him. So I guess it’s my fau—”
“Nuh-uh.” Derek interrupted you, placing a finger over your lips. “He did this,” then booped your nose.
You couldn't help but smile. “Yeah but I stopped being… a girlfriend to him,” you explained, moving your hands around to make your point. “I came home late, he’d wait for me with dinner but I just… stopped seeing him.” You sighed. It really was your fault to some extent now that you talked about it. “He sought the attention I stopped giving him on someone else. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want… to be the person who just works and can’t balance it with personal life.”
“It’s tough.”
“Yeah, but you seem to make it work with Savannah.” You nudged his arm.
They had the kind of love you aspired to have one day.
“It took us a while, but we made it work. Still do. It’s a good thing she also has a time-consuming job. She just gets it. But it takes a lot of effort from both parties.”
You nodded in agreement. “Zac and I are over. This isn’t something we can talk about and get through and forget or forgive. He betrayed me.”
Derek hung one arm over your shoulder and kissed your temple. “I know.”
“At least I don’t have to plan a wedding anymore. It seems exhausting.”
“Oh, believe me, it is.”
You gasped and pulled away to look at him. He had a grin on his face now. That’s what you needed. A smile from him even if it made you forget for just a moment. “What? What does that mean? Did you propose?!”
“Whoa, whoa.” Emily came from behind and joined the conversation right away, standing in front of you. “Who’s proposing?”
“Morgan,” you were quick to respond. Anything to avoid anyone else knowing you’d been cheated on.
“Shhh!” He stood up, signaling you both to shut up with a finger over his lips and looking around to make sure no one else heard. “I’m planning to, alright. Don't…. Freak out. She can say no.”
“She’d be silly to say no,” Emily laughed a little. “Are you kidding?”
“You’re already planning the wedding,” you laughed too while standing up. “Don’t pretend you expect her to say no.”
“Of course, she’s gonna say yes.” Derek grinned. “I’m just playin’.”
On the way to the hotel, the team split into two SUVs and Hotch kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror at every red light and stop sign, with that know-it-all look, a pinch of concern. He was worried about you (and soon to be pissed for the stunt you pulled earlier).
You got a triple room with Emily and JJ and you didn’t give them a chance to make any conversation with them since dinner was canceled. You threw your bag over your bed and headed to the rooftop. You figured it’d be the only place none of the team would be. You needed fresh air, and you felt ready to talk to Zac. You reached the rooftop and pulled out your phone. Just the thought of hearing his voice tightened your throat. But you had to. You needed to know what he had to say.
You dialed his number and some agonizing butterflies still managed to flap their wings at the pit of your stomach with that first ‘hey’ on the other line. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your only witness was the moon hanging above and she wouldn’t judge you, so you finally allowed yourself to feel it.
His voice was a stab to your heart and a soft sob got caged in your throat. He said he was sorry, that he missed you, that he loved you. That you will always be the love of his life and that he knew he’d lost you. You muffled your sobs against your hand and once he was done talking, all you could reply was ‘okay’.
Then you hung up.
“Damn it.” You let your phone slip through your fingers to cover your eyes with one hand while you braced yourself with the other arm.
You stood there—for who knows how long—until a pair of unfamiliar arms enveloped you from the front. Their scent, though, was like home—faint and woody bathing you whole. You nestled against their chest and it only made you cry even more.
“Shh. It’s okay.”
Hotch’s voice snapped the knife out of your chest and he wasn’t about to let you bleed out. With one hand he caressed the back of your head, giving you soft scratches. The other rubbed your upper back with short and tender strokes. You weren’t planning on crumbling and you surely didn’t expect Hotch to be the one comforting you, but it felt right. You needed a hug and a gentle voice telling you it was okay to feel like this.
Your entire relationship flashed before your eyes. You were mourning its death, after all., and there was no going back from it. You wouldn’t do that to yourself and had to accept that his laugh would eventually fade away from your memory and his eyes would no longer shine because of you—they haven’t for a while.
You peeled yourself from Hotch’s chest and noticed how his shirt was damp with your tears.
“Sorry, I—” you sniffed; looked up at him.
His soft eyes scanned your face for a moment. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ they asked, a sweet frown taking over his face.
“You look like you need a drink,” he said instead.
You chuckled, nodding, even when the after-crying headache was creeping up on you. You would’ve taken the elevator to the first floor, but Hotch guided you through the staircase.
“Were you up there when I got there?” you asked him.
“No, I went there to clear my head and… found you standing there.”
After all these years working with him, he was still the hardest to read. “Is something bugging you?” you asked him.
“No.”
Okay, then. You understood it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about (with you).
You reached the first floor and headed to the bar. It wasn’t crowded, and Rossi was already there. You two joined him, each at either side of him.
“Ah, FBI agents,” Rossi told the bartender, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re not gonna interrogate me, are you?” he then asked you two.
“I don’t know. Should we?” Hotch asked with a tint of humor.
“You should interrogate her.” He gestured at you by twitching his mouth in your direction. “I heard she almost punched one of the victim’s husbands.”
“Thanks, Rossi.” You glared at him, and he couldn’t have cared less.
“Is that true?” Hotch asked you, leaning a bit forward to glance at you over Rossi, even when the wall in front of you was a whole mirror.
“Goodnight, kid.” Rossi slid off his stool. “Night Hotch. Keep an eye on her.”
“Great.” You glared at him again. “Just throw the grenade and run away.” He just laughed and waved a dismissive hand. He had clearly had quite a few drinks so you couldn’t blame him much.
“Is that true?” Hotch asked again.
“He was a jerk,” you responded, sipping on your drink.
“That has nothing to do with it. Jerk or not, you can’t be acting like that.” His frown grew strong but his voice remained as soft as when he was comforting you moments earlier.
“He cheated on her, Hotch.” You shot him a look through the mirror. “That’s why she went out and got abducted. Murdered.”
“I understand that, but we push our feelings aside, you know that.”
“I know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Just… let it go, please. You know I won’t do it again.”
“Of course you won’t.” He took a short sip of his drink and looked forward, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “You’d be off the case if you pull something like that again.”
A light bulb lit up over your head right then.
“Do you think that’s why the unsub is targeting the victims?” You grabbed his forearm with excitement. “Because they got cheated on?”
You were right and your tragedy helped save the last woman the unsub had abducted. You wrapped up the case with a bittersweet taste.
On the flight home, Morgan sat next to you, and for some reason, you wished Hotch had sat there.
You searched for him on the jet and he’d chosen to sit farther back. You wanted to thank him for comforting you when he didn’t have to, and as if he’d read your mind—
Good job today—He texted—I know this was a particularly difficult case for you.
You lifted your head and caught him looking at you. You smiled at him as a response.
It was difficult, but it also helped you heal a little.
Morgan nudged your arm gently, gesturing for you to take your headphones off.
“Hm?” you raised your brows.
“Are you planning on going home now?”
You sighed. “I have to.”
“You can stay with me for a few days. Savannah would be thrilled to have you over.”
“Thank you but I think that’d make me feel… small? I have to see him eventually. And I’d rather get it over with soon.” You smiled at him. “After that conversation, though, I’m not sure if I’ll have a place to stay so I’ll let you know if I need a place to crash for the night.”
“I’ll be there, then.”
When you made it to your place, Zac was waiting for you with dinner. You would’ve laughed, but you were too exhausted to even smile at him.
“I’m just here to get my things,” you said, walking past him to your room.
You smelled fresh paint on your way there, and you really laughed then. He’d repainted the whole thing. Did he think changing the wall color would make you forget what happened there?
“It’s your favorite color.” Zac stood at the door.
“You’re unbelievable.” You scoffed.
You threw all your belongings in two suitcases and left.
To never come back.
“You’re getting discharged.” Hotch drew open the curtain of your cubicle.
“What? What about Morgan?” You sat upright, keeping the ice close to the bump on your head. You’d been in a car crash in the middle of a prosecution. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He just dislocated his shoulder.”
“Well, the doctor said I can’t fly, let alone drive.” You rolled your eyes. “So who’s driving me back to Quantico?”
“I am.” You couldn’t help but let out a huff. “Yeah, I’m not excited about it either.”
“It’s seventeen hours, Hotch. You don’t have to. I’m sure I can take an overnight bus or something.”
“You’re not taking any bus. You got a brain bleed. Someone’s gotta be there if something happens.” He glared at you. “Gather your things. I’ll bring the car. A nurse will walk you out.”
Your things were only your badge and gun. Everything else was still at the hotel, so you assumed you were going to make a stop there before hitting the road back to Quantico.
You were officially discharged by your doctor minutes later and you’d underestimated Hotch’s efficiency. He’d already gone to the hotel to get your things. He even bought snacks—your favorite snacks.
You reclined your seat and threw a blanket over you. Your head was much better but it still hurt despite you being high on painkillers.
“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn the heater on?”
“Not cold.” You assured him. You just wanted to make yourself cozy. “Hotch, I don’t know if I’m gonna handle a seventeen-hour drive.”
“I know.” He gave you a quick glance. “I don’t think I will either. We’ll make a stop if you need to. Just let me know.”
You dozed off and on during the first two hours—your eyes darting to Hotch’s firm hands on the steering wheel—until it started raining. Normally, you would’ve been on high alert since you weren’t a fan of driving when it rained, but it was Hotch who was driving. And he was a great driver.
The sound of the thick drops hitting the windshield turned out to be a perfect lullaby and helped you fall into a deep and cozy slumber. A dream began to take over your mind at some point but it didn’t become one entirely.
Loud noises dragged you out of it.
You blinked your eyes open. You were parked on the side road, and the rain wasn’t normal rain anymore. It was loud, hitting the rooftop like daggers. You feared it might fall through.
“Are those hailstones?” You adjusted the seat back straight.
“Not yet,” Hotch responded. “But we can’t keep driving like this. I can barely see past the hood. It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m no weather expert but I’m sure there’s a storm coming.”
Hotch nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to make an emergency stop.” He pulled out his phone and typed something. “There’s a motel 3 miles away. We can spend a few hours there until the storm passes.”
“You just said it’s dangerous to keep driving.”
“It’s more dangerous to stay here or on the side of the road. Plus you need to rest. It’s been a long drive already.”
Long? You glanced at the clock on the radio.
“It’s been six hours already?!” Your eyes widened.
It didn’t feel like it, though.
“You snored half of it.” He teased, his soft dimples making their first appearance of the night.
“I did not,” you laughed a little.
You knew he was just kidding, but you clearly needed those hours of deep sleep. Your headache was much better now.
Hotch kept the blinkers on as he started driving again, slowly until the map on his phone signaled him to turn right.
There was a blue-light vacancy sign glitching.
“This is it?” you asked. The place looked straight out of a horror film and the dark sky didn’t help.
“You stay here,” Hotch ordered. “I’ll check if they have any rooms.”
You didn’t disagree and locked the doors once he stepped out. Just in case.
Minutes later, your phone buzzed.
There’s only one room available, Hotch texted you.
Two beds? you texted back right away.
King, he replied.
Great. It was either sharing a bed with Hotch or staying in the car.
I don’t mind if you don’t, you texted. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Then you added, we’ll only be here a few hours until the rain stops, right?
Yes. Don’t move. I’ll come get you, he replied.
You gathered your things within reach, as gently as possible so your brain wouldn’t get all scrambled by sudden movements and unlocked the doors for Hotch.
He opened the door and ducked his head inside. “It’s the farthest room,” he raised his voice over the loud rain.
“That’s fine,” you matched his tone. “Let’s make one trip. I can carry my things.”
“You sure?” he frowned in an attempt to keep the rain out of his eyes.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You nodded and stepped out of the car.
Once you had your things and Hotch had his, he took the lead with you walking fast behind him with your head low. You both were already drenched so there was no point in running.
The room was better than what you expected. It welcomed you with warm air, one bed, a small desk facing the window, an old TV, and a bathroom. They even had a small station with a kettle and tea/coffee, and the heater was on
You stripped out some of your clothes right next to the heater and changed your muddy shoes for your slippers.
“Do you mind if I take the bathroom first?” You asked him.
“Not at all,” Hotch replied, ridding himself of some damp clothes.
You walked past him with your bag and locked yourself in the bathroom. You unlocked it right away. What if you passed out? It was going to be a quick shower to regulate your body temperature, but with a brain injury, you never knew.
You were in and out of it in less than ten minutes and Hotch had already changed his clothes to sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It was always so strange seeing him out of his suits.
“Are you hungry?” He asked, hanging his clothes on the improvised drying rack he made out of the single chair and desk and placing it close to the heater.
“A little.” You sat on the left side of the bed.
Hotch grabbed the snack bag and displayed what he’d bought over the bed. Along with your favorite snacks were some fruits and two instant noodle soups. The first time you pulled out one of those, Reid told you all about them and how they were some of the most cancerous foods there could be, but they were a guilty pleasure and you didn’t eat them often.
“Take your pick,” he said. “I’ll take a shower now.”
He was being a good caretaker to you and you trusted him so all you had to do today and tomorrow was obey him. You could shut your brain down when Hotch was around.
You turned the TV on to have some background noise and put on the news. The weather had been catastrophic already in some parts and they said it was going to last at least eight more hours. It was 8 pm so you didn’t mind waiting all night for it to pass. It was a cozy room, after all.
You prepared yourself the instant soup and sat cross-legged on the bed. Your phone buzzed against the mattress.
How’s your head? Morgan texted.
Better. Your shoulder?
I have a good doctor at home so I’ll be alright. How’s the trip going?
The sky is falling here. We had to make a stop for the night.
Sharing a room with the boss? ;)
You didn’t know why he would say that or why you would lie about your answer, but you lied.
Of course not! We’re gonna wait for the rain to pass before hitting the road again.
You hit send right when Hotch came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.
You put the phone down. “There’s still hot water in the kettle.”
You rarely saw him eat, and since all he bought were things you liked, you assumed he liked them too. He prepared his soup as well and sat on the other side of the bed.
“It looks pretty bad.” He glanced at the TV.
“They said it’s gonna last all night.”
Something was odd about him now. Maybe it was the fatigue of the trip that hit him after the shower. But he kept looking at his phone and putting it down. You saw him clench his jaw more than once.
“Everything okay?” You had to ask.
He gave you a look.
Everything was not okay.
He hesitated a moment, twisting the noodles with his fork but never taking a bite.
“Beth got a job offer in Hong Kong.” Oh. “And she’s boarding the flight now.” Oh, no. “She asked my opinion before taking the job offer.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, I encouraged her to take it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
You didn’t want him to regret his choice about encouraging her—she put him between a rock and a hard place—but you had a string of questions about it. What if she asked for his opinion because she wanted to stay and settle, but needed him to say it?
“So you let her go,” you said instead and he nodded. “How’s Jack handling it?”
“She talked to him, we took him to Orlando for the weekend and he understood it but”—he sighed—“I know it’s been hard on him, too.” You couldn’t imagine how his son was feeling. He was a kid and he’d lost someone, too. “But we ended it on good terms.” He raised his brows.
“Why did you offer to drive me home?” You asked. “You could be there with her by now. At the airport.”
“We said our goodbyes.” He shook his head and looked down. “It would’ve made it more painful.”
You hummed in agreement. “They say if you love someone, you let them go. If they come back, it means they’re truly yours.” He looked at you. “She could come back.”
His eyes were glassy. For some reason, you felt he was thinking about Haley, too. He was once again losing someone he loved—by choice this time but losing her nonetheless.
“Sorry,” he sort of laughed. “I’m talking about my heartbreak when…”
When you were recently heartbroken too.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m—”
“Fine,” he finished your sentence. “Of course you are.”
“I’m over it and I laugh about it now. I wasted three years of my life. My good years.” You chucked. “It's funny now.”
“It’s not. And you still have a few more good years ahead of you?” He commented, confused.
You talked as if your youth was already over but you had a good reason. “Yeah, but I’m not gonna be as hot as I was when I met him.” He smirked. “He went for a younger woman.” You then added.
“Younger?” He raised his brows.
“I know. I think that’s why I feel old. But she was a 25-year-old trainee.”
“That’s not much younger than you.”
“You flatter me.” You let out a small laugh. “I just… Why do men always go for the younger woman?”
He took a subtle deep breath. “I—“
“Generally speaking,” you added. “Men who cheat go for a younger woman.”
“I don’t know but I’m sure Reid can give you all the statistics about it.”
“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I don’t wanna hear them.”
You let out a yawn, and soon Hotch did too. You two agreed in silence it was time for bed already.
“It’s not cold in here so I’ll sleep over the bed covers,” he commented.
“Hotch, you don’t have to. I don’t mind, honestly. I’ve shared beds with most of our team.”
“Alright,” he let out a small laugh, raising his brows.
The rain stopped around 5 am and within thirty minutes you both were up and ready to hit the road again. There were ten hours ahead of you and this time you didn’t feel the need to sleep through it. You slept like a baby last night and also, talking to Hotch was really nice, and he seemed well-rested too.
You stopped for a quick breakfast two hours in and had it in the car to optimize time. Throughout the drive, there were talks about the landscapes and weather and he’d throw in some random stories about his brother, or Haley and Jack when something reminded him of them.
Your favorite was how he and Jack had a tradition whenever it rained: chocolate chip cookies. And how Jack had already decided that he was going to do the same with his kids one day.
And the more the clock ticked, the more you wished he’d slow down his speed (even when he was going just below the limit). You didn’t want the trip to end, but it had to eventually.
Around 3 pm. Hotch was dropping you off at your place.
“It’s a nice neighborhood,” he commented. Only Derek had had the chance to visit your new place.
“It is. It’s mostly old people that live here so it’s very quiet all the time.” You smiled. Silence filled the air for a moment. You missed him already. “Hey, I know we’re both exhausted but… would you like to come in? We can make some decent lunch.”
Hotch took a subtle deep breath. “I would. I’d love to but… Jack’s waiting for me. I was supposed to arrive yesterday and he was excited to see me. I… I’m picking him up at school after this.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” You gulped. Stupid.
Why did you feel nervous around him all of a sudden?
“Maybe some other time?” He asked.
Your stomach fluttered.
“Definitely.”
Spencer was turning 33, and Penelope thought throwing him a surprise birthday party was a good idea. She asked everyone to show up earlier than usual to decorate a conference room. You were the first one to show, then one by one everyone arrived.
The only one you wanted to see walking through the door, though, wasn’t the birthday boy. It was Hotch.
After the gloomy night at the motel, Hotch became a permanent thought. You didn’t know if it was because he took such good care of you, or because he trusted you to tell you a personal thing—or both—but since that night, something changed.
You’d always admired him, but this was more than that. Your cheeks grew warm whenever he looked at you. You started to feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. And you felt ridiculous. He was your boss, he’d been your boss for five years so why had your feelings changed?
The truth was, you’d always had certain feelings for him. Nothing ever happened before because you met him as a divorced man, who only had time for his kid and his job, so at the time, besides your boss, he was a nice face to look at (a very nice face). Then Haley's death came and he shut himself down, drowning himself in work. You started dating Zac soon after, then you didn’t have eyes for Hotch anymore. He became who he was: your boss.
Now, that both were single, your true feelings for him were coming afloat. Of course, you didn’t let them show; how your stomach fluttered at his sudden presence and constant glances. You insisted those were in your head, that he’d always looked at you the same amount or the same way, but when the attraction is reciprocated, there’s a spark.
That spark almost lit up a fire in your chest when he finally showed up. The lights were off, but you’d recognize his silhouette anywhere, and he was walking up to you.
“Hey,” he whispered, standing next to you.
“You’re late,” you whispered back.
“Is Reid here?”
“No, but we did all the work.”
“I’m… the boss for a reason.”
You held back a laugh. Thank god it was dark.
“Shhh, there he comes!” Penelope whispered loudly.
Everyone moved to their assigned spot and your hand accidentally brushed his in the process. “Sorry.”
It’s okay, he whispered.
That accidental touch was the first of many not-so-accidental.
You tried to convince yourself it was all in your head, but he looked at you, paid attention, listened to every word you had to say. He saw right through you.
There weren’t many moments outside work, though, and that confused you even more. You couldn't ask him to see each other casually. It wasn’t something you or he did, and it made you wonder. You wondered. Always. Every day. Every hour. Every time you looked at him you wondered what was going through his mind.
Weeks went by where unspoken words were said. Your feet itched to go to his office every time you knew he was going to stay until late. To offer him some coffee, or ask him if he needed help with something but all you always ever did was turn in your reports and linger there for a second or two, hoping he’d ask you to stay.
And tonight was no exception. You had your excuse to stay late this time, though. A doctor's appointment forced you to clock in late, and for that, you had to stay to meet your weekly worked hours.
Everyone had left, even the janitors.
Everyone except for Hotch, of course.
You glanced at your watch when you finally finished your last report. It wasn’t even an appropriate time to have dinner. You were dreaming of your bathtub and a glass of wine with some cheese.
You stacked your folders and adjusted your skirt before going to Hotch's office to hand them in. You knocked three times and waited for his Come in! to enter the room.
You walked in and he wasn’t at his desk as he usually was. He was on his couch, with only the lamp lights on; he’d removed his jacket and had his sleeves rolled up right below his elbows.
“Hey, I… I finished my reports.”
He looked at you—stared. You swore a faint smile was curling the corner of his lips. “Toss them on my desk.”
You slowly walked in and did as he said. “Are you… leaving soon?” you clasped your hands behind you.
“I don’t think so.”
“Is there… something I can help you with?” You gestured at the folder he was holding.
He paused for a second before replying, “Yes, actually.” He scooted to give you space on the couch. “Close the door.”
You did as he said and sat next to him, but not quite close. He put the folder on the coffee table and spread all the documents, filling in every gap.
“Choose,” he said.
You laughed. “What?”
“Our next case.”
“Oh, I’m not… I don’t think I’m qualified to do that, am I?”
“There’s a reason I’m asking you to choose.” He raised his brows to make his point.
Your eyes flickered between pictures and reports. Neither was worse than the other. “Well, it’s not like I can choose, right? You have to… study each one of these murders to decide which one has more priority. Which is… a bit twisted. As if one is less important than the other.”
“It’s hard.”
“And you do it every time.”
Hotch nodded. “JJ used to do it when she was the liaison. Now she still does when I can’t or ask her to since she has the right criteria, but it’s on me now.” He raised his brows as he spoke.
Your eyes were stuck on his lips, a sudden urge to kiss him brewing in your chest.
“I don’t know how you do your job without breaking down sometimes,” you said. He smiled, scanning your face up and down. God, you really wanted to kiss him. “I mean your unit chief job.” You tore your eyes off him and adjusted yourself a bit farther on the couch. You had the perfect view of the side of his head.
Hotch leaned forward resting his elbows over his knees and lowered his head. “It’s… the one thing I’m good at.”
“Not the only thing,” you let out a breathy laugh. He turned to you, raising his brows as if he were waiting for you to mention another thing he was good at. “You’re a great dad, Hotch,” you said without hesitation.
“I,” he licked his lips. “I could be better.”
“We all could be better at everything, doesn’t mean we’re bad at it.”
Hotch sighed. “You’re right.”
“You’re also… good at sports?”
“Stop.” He chuckled, lowering his head once again.
You rubbed his back by impulse, and you withdrew it right away as you felt him tense up. Your hand tingled at that brief contact and it burnt when he reached for it and enveloped it with his large hand. Your heart rate skyrocketed and all you could hear was your pulse in your ears (not that any of you was saying anything anymore).
He turned his head to you, adjusting farther back so his back would rest on the couch. Your shoulders touched now, and his hand was still on yours and this time, his thumb caressed your knuckles, and his eyes were stuck on your face.
The urge to kiss him was flush against your skin.
“You should go home,” he said, swallowing thickly. “It’s late.”
“Yeah,” you licked your lips. “I really should.”
He let go of your hand and with the same one, you caressed the side of his head where a few satly strands of hair were gloriously shining. You put the short pieces behind his ear and cradled his face. You held your breath. What the hell were you doing?
A pained frown took over his face and he shut his eyes for a second. You wanted to kiss the frown away so you leaned, kissing his cheek. He tilted his face until the tip of your nose was touching his.
His shaky breath ghosted your lips.
Would a kiss on the lips be so bad?
You were closing the gap before you thought about the answer. Your lips touched—a soft peck—and there was barely a sound when you pulled away.
“I’m sorry I”— You placed your fingers over your lips right away.
Hotch wasn’t giving you any signs of anything at all and panic began to take over you.
God, what have you done?
Your name came out of his mouth in a whisper filled with longing. He was leaning closer. He studied your face from up close as he paused. His nostrils flared and he licked his bottom lip before going for a kiss. Just as tender as yours.
At first.
One of his hands found a spot on the side of your thigh while the other went to the back of your neck, bringing you closer and allowing the kiss to intensify. His chin scraped yours with his barely noticeable beard and his lips were gentle despite his sudden urge.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for this—him kissing you back or reciprocating any sign of affection. But he was, and he was getting so into it his tongue was already teasing yours.
A small moan escaped you when he opened his mouth a bit more. Your breathing quickened with each kiss and when your tongues finally tangled together, you lost it.
“C’mere.” He murmured against your lips.
You hopped on his lap and gave yourself in. You wrapped your arms around his neck tight and pressed your hips down. It became sloppy with each kiss already and only heavy breathing filled the room. His heavy breathing.
He was so needy for you.
This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but you were ecstatic. No matter how far this went, it already was much better than your bathtub.
You let go of his lips for a second. You needed to catch some air.
“Aaron.”
You’d never called him by his first name. Never, and right then you wished you’d done it sooner. It seemed to have awakened something in him. He groaned into another kiss and grabbed your hips tightly, encouraging you to move them.
He liked it. He loved it.
You obeyed, grinding him and going back for another kiss. His hands were still shy, hesitantly resting at the curves of your hips. You pressed your hips down. His hard bulge was right there. You couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip, cupping his face harshly with both hands as if he could go anywhere. He was a prisoner of your body; you had him caged with your legs and arms and he didn’t seem to mind at all.
His hands raked down your curves, lower on either side of your hips and slowly traveled down, cupping your ass and guiding you back and forth.
Hotch’s lap was heaven on earth.
You moaned into a wetter kiss, tongues gliding together. You were embarrassingly loud now. He smiled against your lips.
“Sorry.” You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, pressing your foreheads together.
His chest was heaving in and out as he tried to regulate his breathing. His hands went up to your lower back and he pulled you close into a tight and tender hug.
A sudden clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. He was your boss for fucks sake. You were sure, that once you came out of his office, you would lose your job. The one you fought so hard for.
“I… I have to go.” You slid off his lap and stood in front of him, adjusting your skirt.
He was staring up at you through his dark lashes and you couldn’t look at him without feeling embarrassed. You wiped your lips clean and took a few steps back.
“I am so sorry this—” You took a few more steps backward on your way to the door and turned all the way, giving him your back.
Hotch stood up, his broad silhouette taking a few steps towards you. He said your name with his deep, deep, oh-so-deep voice as your hand touched the knob. He was right behind you now, his torso glued to your back and his arms wrapped around your waist.
You shut your eyes as he inhaled your hair.
You locked the door.
“Are you sure?” he murmured next to your ear.
All you could do was nod.
He flipped you around by your hips, capturing your mouth, body, and soul. This time he groaned like an animal, hungry for you. God, he was desperate and your entire body fluttered. Your knees when weak right when he scooped you by your thighs and walked with you towards his desk, plopping you there while knocking everything down with one hand.
No words were necessary. His hands talked for him and the kiss was never-ending. You were a fucking mess already. You were at his will, so open to let him do anything he wanted with you.
To you.
The air was getting hotter and the layers of clothes began to bother you. His body heat and breath were to blame. He was everywhere.
He sneaked one hand in between your legs and gripped your inner thigh, his thick fingers sinking into your flesh. You squirmed over the wood, encouraging him to go a little higher. He did, the tip of his fingers ghosting your panties. They were damp with your arousal already (you’d felt it leak through you when you were kissing on the couch), and by the way he smiled, he could feel it. He lifted your skirt up to your waist and pressed himself onto you, his erection finding your cunt like a magnet. He cursed under his breath, looking down at where your bodies touched the most. But not quite.
You wanted to touch him, feel how hard he was. You palmed his thick bulge and gulped. Your mouth went dry as you began to massage the outline of his erection while making eye contact, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered.
There were so many clothes in the way, making it hard to focus but then he grabbed your jaw and looked into your eyes and whatever was about to come, was the best thing that would ever happen to you.
He sneaked his fingers from the side of your panties, the wet sound of your arousal against his fingers was embarrassing. But it made him drop his head to your shoulder. He cursed again and began to massage you, spreading your arousal all over with his thick fingers. Your cunt clenched, desperate to have him inside you. You cursed under your breath with pleasure as his fingers found your wet entrance. He made circular motions without entering, teasing you.
He was driving you insane, too.
“Hotch,” you murmured, I need you, you wanted to say, but he shushed you. Gently. Tenderly. Shushed you with an open-mouth kiss.
You whimpered against his mouth and with clumsy hands, undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants, sneaking your hand inside to touch his length. Finally. You whined again at that first touch. His skin was burning.
“Would you fuck me?” you whispered, wrapping your fingers around his length. They barely covered him.
“Of course, sweetheart. Just give me a minute. Let me feel you.”
He moved his fingers up and down between your wet folds, feeling you as he’d said. He knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled, gentle and put the perfect amount of pressure.
But you were growing desperate.
“Please, Hotch.”
He didn’t give you any warning and in one fell swoop, he had his length out. Fuck. His cock stood on its own—thick and long—so close to your cunt. The tip glistened with his arousal.
“Scoot to the edge,” he ordered.
You did as he said and he lined himself at your entrance and barely pushed the head inside. You both let out a quiet moan at the same time.
God, it felt good. He felt good. You both looked down and watched as he slowly entered, inch by inch until he was all the way inside. He looked at you then and you lost it.
Aaron Hotchner was fucking you. Aaron Hotchner, whom you admired and respected. Aaron Hotchner, the man who has been messing with your head these past few months.
This was an eye-opening experience. Paradise on earth. How have you gone so many years without him? New feelings were brewing in your chest with each thrust, each stare, and each kiss.
You gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer as he began to move, rocking his hips back and forth. You’d milked his dark and thick curls with your arousal already, making each slam sticky to your skin.
His cock was exquisite, spreading you open and reaching every right spot.
“You feel so good, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You couldn’t resist.
He kept fucking you until your butt went numb, you needed to finish but you didn’t want this to end. Ever
You showed your discomfort by adjusting over the desk.
Bend over, he whispered on your lips.
He kissed you one last time before you hopped off the desk and obeyed, bending over his desk and glancing at him over your shoulder, ready to take him. He squeezed your ass with both hands and lined himself again. He teased you, pulling it out and moving it up and down. You let out a needy hum, wiggling your ass, begging for his cock.
He entered again and this time, he was ruthless. He slammed into you, hard. Then again. And again. Over and over until the only sound in the room was the clash of skin against skin. You had to muffle your moans—and smile—by biting your forearm.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. God, Aaron Hotchener fucked good. So good you were seeing stars already and so close to grazing the sky.
He bent down too for a moment just to bring you up close into a hug. “Come here.” You already knew he liked having you close.
He sneaked one hand from the front and massaged your clit as his thrust became sloppy. You threw your head back to his shoulder, and he captured the underside of your chin between his teeth.
This was it. The beginning of an addiction you never wanted to rid yourself of.
There were a few more slams before he came. Hard. He was a vocal man. Grunting and groaning and cursing quietly as his cock twitched inside you.
Your legs were shaking, and if it wasn’t because he was holding you, you were sure you would’ve fallen to your knees. And he didn’t let go of you for a moment, his cock still inside you.
You needed to know what he was thinking, see his face.
You took a sharp breath to speak, but he slipped his cock out and you gasped. His cum dripped down.
“Sorry,” he murmured and was quick to clean you with a tissue.
You finally turned around and caught a look on his face you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t disappointment. But it wasn’t a positive thing.
“This“—he began, buttoning his pants—“changes everything.” He glared at you.
You adjusted your skirt and pressed your lips together. “I know.”
“And it can’t happen ever again.” Your heart dropped to your stomach for a second as he added, “Not here.” A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lip
You pressed your lips together, hiding a smile.
“Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.” You walked up to him, placing your palm flat over his chest. His heart was still racing. “Not here.”
You kissed him, and he kissed you back.
“Should we, uh, leave together?” you asked, licking your lips.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “You can leave first.”
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“See you tomorrow.” He nodded and stole another kiss before you left.
You walked out of the building so put together as if nothing had happened, and kept a straight face until you were inside your car.
“Holy fuck,” you laughed; squealed, almost.
That really happened. You covered your face with both hands trying to come back to earth.
You decided to drive off before Hotch appeared in the parking lot, or else you wouldn’t resist taking him right there all over again. You replayed what had happened in your head the entire drive and as soon as you made it home, he texted you.
I hope you know this isn’t something casual or unimportant to me.
You smiled. You loved that he couldn’t hide his professionalism when texting.
I know, you texted back, for me either. Believe me
Good, he replied.
Goodnight, Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Tomorrow came and from the moment you laid eyes on each other, you agreed: no one could know about it.
He explained to you, when no one was around, how relationships within the bureau had a reputation. It would’ve been different if he was at the same level as you, but since he was your superior, it wouldn’t be well seen.
So this being a secret was more for him than for you, but you didn’t mind. It was such a rush. The whole forbidden thing did something to you, which caused you to be horny at work more than once.
But he made up for it when you saw each other at his place or yours.
There, it was different. You allowed yourself to be softer and he didn’t hold back any kiss or touch. His affection confused you, though, since the talk hadn’t come up yet. The ‘what are we?’ talk, and you didn’t want to be the girl who asked that after the second date.
There was sex—lots of it—, there were dinners, movie nights, and everything couples did, so it made sense if you asked, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to spoil the magic.
Because it was magical, your lives took an awful turn when you got your hearts broken and you both were right at the curve to meet each other. He’d been there, in front of you this whole time and a fragment of you glued back together every time he stared into your eyes while nothing was said. While he caressed your face and kissed you just because he wanted to. He managed to heal you between the lines, with subtle words that’d get stuck at the back of your mind.
And the more you two met outside work—whether it was at his place or yours, his bed, or a fancy hotel room—your feelings for him intensified.
They were worse on nights like these, when you found yourself tangled between sheets with him after sex, talking about anything and everything.
He often had an expression of everlasting love.
At least, you liked to think that way.
“What are you thinking?” He asked you with that glimmer in his eyes.
You sucked in a breath and brushed the front pieces of his hair with your fingers. “Did you get Morgan’s wedding invitation?”
You don’t know why, but he laughed. “I did, yes.”
“I think we should bring a date.”
“Why?”
“We have a plus one and… I don’t know. I’m gonna be wearing a dress so for your sake, I should have a date. That isn’t you.”
“Oh, really?” He teased, placing a kiss on your ear.
“This is inappropriate, Agent Hotchner, I’m your subordinate.” You laughed. You were ticklish there.
“Not when you’re in my bed.” He adjusted himself on top of you, lowering to kiss you. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
You laughed again.
You loved it.
Loved him.
I hope you liked it!!! I’d love to hear your thoughts about it too!🤭❤️🔥
#I’m so excited for this one pls don’t let it flop#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fic
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the girl next door 9
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
You don’t go straight home. You don’t want to upset your mom. So, you wander the suburbs, walking around cul-de-sacs, some you’ve never been down, and circling around the avenues. You pass mothers and fathers with strollers and children running and yelling on green lawns. It’s as if you’re walking through a utopia, floating by like a cursed wraith.
You glance down at the book in your hand. Maybe you should try some lighter reading. Your mind tends to go to dark places.
When at last you let yourself go back to the house, you do so cautiously. You don’t see Steve or your mom. As you come to the front door, you wonder if you should knock. You quietly let yourself in, gently closing the door as you stand on the mat. You leave your shoes on the low rack and tiptoe down the hall. Your mom can’t be mad if she doesn’t know you’re there.
“Hey, kiddo,” Steve’s voice as you tripping over your own feet. You turn to the archway as you pass and peer in. Your mother’s in her recliner, her eyes closed. Is she sleeping? You watch her warily. “How was your walk?”
“Um,” you blink and shrug, “fine.”
He stands by the window, his hand on the wall beside it. Did he see you come up? You hadn’t noticed him behind the curtain.
“Breakfast for you in the oven. Won’t be very warm but if it’s no good, I can start a new batch,” he offers.
“Don’t bother with all that,” your mother grumbles and shifts in her chair, groaning as she shakily rubs her cheek. Her eyes open only slightly. “She can warm ‘em up.”
“Always better fresh,” Steve stands straight and faces you fully.
“Thanks.”
You leave them with the single word. You feel like an intruder. You stop by your bedroom and hover in indecision. You just want to hide but you would hate to be rude. Steve went to all that trouble and you know, even as your mother says he’s already done too much, she’d be even more upset if you wasted his effort.
You put your book on the foot of your bed and go down to the kitchen. You take out the pancakes, content enough to have them cold. There’s a bottle of real maple syrup. Steve must’ve supplied that; you can’t afford the pure stuff. You don’t use very much, mindful of the expense of the sugary nectar.
You grab cutlery and bring the plate to the table. You sit alone. You can hear the hum of the ceiling fan from the front room and the dulcet song of birds floating in through the windows. Steve’s low tone rolls through the din but you can’t make out his words. You mother answers his with short mutters. She’s not having a very good day. You're surprised he stayed this long.
The pancakes are good, even at room temperature. They’re fluffy and taste richer than the frozen ones you get a bargain on. Is that blueberry too? With each bite, your hunger clenches your stomach tighter, mulching down the food greedily. When you finish, your body growls and aches.
You wash off your plate and put it in the tray. The lull of the house thickens as you pad down to your room. You slow as you near the door frame. Had you closed it? You can’t recall.
You turn into the room and let out a noise of surprise. Steve looks over as he stands over the folding table, his hand on your sketchbook, a page half-turned. Your heart drops as you clasp your hands together.
“Sorry, er, didn’t mean to...” he rescinds his hand and lets the page flutter down, “It was open and...” you don’t know whether he means the door or the book. “You’re really talented.”
Your forehead crinkles and you charge towards him. You step around him and shut the book, swiping it up. He leans back on his heel.
“I didn’t... I wasn’t trying to...” he sputters, “I just wanted to pass something by you.”
You hug your sketchbook at you face him. You stare at this chest. You feel violated. Not just that he’s in your space but he touched your stuff. The one thing that’s really yours; your drawings.
“Me and your mom were talking, you know, and she said it would be good for you to get out, maybe make some extra money,” he explains, “and I’ll be around so you won’t need to worry about her so much.”
You frown. You and your mother have had this talk a billion times. Get off your ass and get a job. It’s not like you haven’t tried.
“So, I got some work you can do. Like I said, I gotta get that pool open,” he continues, “and there’s little things around the house. You got a good hand so maybe some painting here and there.”
You push your shoulders up. You don’t think you can say no, especially if he’s already said as much to your mom. You half-suspect this is her doing.
“Complementary milkshakes?” He offers breezily.
You’re quiet. You have no choice. You know as much.
“You know,” he softens his tone, “if I’m gonna... hang around with your mom, we should get to know each other. It’s a good opportunity for us.”
“Fine,” you answer.
“Fine? So that’s a yes?” He asks.
You close your eyes and flick them open, “yes.”
“Great. Well, when can you start? How about tomorrow? Supposed to be another sunny day.”
“Okay,” you agree, “tomorrow.”
He doesn’t move. You want him to leave. The conversation is over. He got what he wants and your mom too. He’ll pay you dimes to clean the pool and your mom will reap the profit.
“You know, I draw a little too,” he points to your sketchbook, “maybe if we have time tomorrow, I can show you.”
“Maybe,” you mutter.
“Ah, uh,” he chuckles bashfully and rubs his neck, “right, I'm in your way. Well, er, I’ll leave ya be.” He turns and struts to the door. He stops just inside the frame and looks back, “oh, how were the pancakes?”
You take a breath and stay staring at the wall, “good.”
“Great, did you have some of the syrup? It’s Canadian.”
“Yeah,” you turn and tuck your sketchbook into your dresser draw. “Thanks.”
“No problem, sweetie,” he taps the wall and the door closes with a click.
You sit on your bed and hunch over to hold your head. It’s still heavy from the night before and now you’re even more tired than before. You don’t know if it’s from being out in the sun or all the walking you did, but your eyelids feel dry and seem to cling with each blink. You yawn and bring your legs up, curling your body up near the edge of the bed.
You know you shouldn’t sleep in the middle of the day, but you just can’t help yourself.
🏠
You wake up in the haze of the late afternoon. Your eyes hurt and your limbs are achy. You lay on your back as the curtains stir with the lazy breeze. You look over to find them open but you don’t remember pulling them apart. You barely remember anything past your awkward morning stroll.
It takes you a while to push through the stiffness. You never sleep on your back; it leaves it racked and your ribcage hurts. As you stand, you notice the door. It’s slightly open.
You get up and go to it, pull it inch by inch. The house is quiet but for a soft rumble, rhythmic and rocky. You putter down the hall and look into the front room. Your mom’s asleep in her chair. She’s almost peaceful as she snores in the recliner.
The scene strikes you as odd, almost dreamlike. Your mom’s never been much of a napper. In fact, she always nagged you about the habit. You think of waking her but think better of it. She won’t be happy to be awoken, even if she might be irritated later to know she slept away the day.
Steve is gone. You search each room to be sure then go to the kitchen. It’s clean and everything is put away, even the dishes you left in the tray. The large bottle of syrup is gone as well.
You mutter and go back to your room. Another soft wind drifts in. You stumble over to your bed and fall back onto it. You yawn again. Gosh, you’re so tired.
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#drabble#series#the girl next door#au#silverfox au#captain america#marvel#mcu
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I think it's really funny that most of my issues w dp×dc fics would be immediately resolved if they were about Dan instead of Danny
(No hate to any fics that do these things btw I am just so so picky)
Jack and Maddie being awful irredeemable people? Not a risk if the fic is about Dan since he doesn't associate with them. If he did catch their ire (pre-agit) he probably genuinely did kill and replace Danny like some write the Fenton's believing
Ooc Danny who's too violent and fine with murder? That'd work wonderfully with Dan
I don't mind it but I don't care for ghost king Danny. However ghost king Dan honestly isn't that much of a leap considering he does canonically have Fright Knight working for him
-OP because he's ghost king Danny, Dan already canonically can make his own ghost portals, and could make himself appear on Valerie's watch and presumably other tech, and can duplicate, and electrocute, so on and so forth
Going to a Wayne Gala or whatever with Vlad? Works well with Danny but works incredibly well with Dan
Anyway basically what im saying here is I want to read Dan fics all the time
Bonuses, that I think are cool rather than being related to my grievances
Dan can look like his 14yr human and ghost self. And I still choose to believe he can look like his true self (as well as being able to appear as 24yr human Danny 🤔)
Honestly I don't think Dan would bother with a human identity unless forced. Maybe he needs to stay in it for an amount of time in order to stay grounded and not cease to exist bc his timeline is gone
If in the same dimension, Dan could easily know all the heroes identities, at least, know their real faces. He probably unmasked them after killing them just to see
I tend to imagine the JL w this one but Dan AND Danny being in DC is great too. I wonder how they'd explain the Dan situation. Dan could just say he's from an erased timeline. Or see how long he can convince others he's Danny's older brother or father or uncle or something
I think a plot could either be Dan just being a dramatic smug bastard OR Dan slowly learning how to heal and accept his emotions and let others in his life and become better for the people around him even if unintentionally. Or both. Especially both.Imagine.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#ask to tag#another thing abt dpxdc... why when not the jl are we always putting danny in Gotham. its very fun i admit. but the other heros have lives#too. i dont see any of them#kinda miss the tt fics from back in the day too#anyway this is just me rambling dont take me too seriously#dan phantom#id try to write something like this myself but i consider myself to far too casual of a dc fan to write fic
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Lost Fic #180
1. Good morrow dearest Mods Firstly thank you for all the good work that you all do for the fandom because this was really impressive when i first stumbled upon it and easy to sieve through. Really Wowwww I'm not much of a fanfic reader myself, but there was the monologue that stuck with me from a tiktok edit and I really want to find which fanfiction was it from (since i couldn't find the edit anymore :"") (Im regurgitating whatever i can remember so please bare with me, i hope it wouldnt be so painful.) It was from the POV of God but the narrator refers to God as "She". She talks about making Crowley and Aziraphale. Being the first to break Crowley's heart. And then she invents Creativity for Crowley because She owes him that at least. She gives Aziraphale a sword but then will give it away on his own will. She did not give Aziraphale a heart but he invented it himself. From what I remember there was no dialogue in this part of the piece. (But I wouldn't know for sure since I've never read it before...) I tried tagging From POV of God Good Omens in AO3, but I couldn't find it either If it happens to not have existed, that's alright, however are there some fanfictions that are similar to this? With the kind of emo yet touching written by God feel narration about the husbands with not much much dialogue, like as if She was just watching from above. The kind of outsider feel with the insider knowledge AHAHAHA I'm not sure how to describe it. Emotionally like bittersweet tea with a dash of honey. Thank you, and I wish you lovely days to come mods <3 - @whiskedawaybythewind
2. I'm sorry, but I'm looking for a Fic it was a Muriel & Crowley, and there was this scene where Crowley finds out that Aziraphale regrets his decision because a Pen that he (Aziraphale) stole, and send with muriel so he can understand the message. I don't remember much more, :( - anon
3. Hi! I’m looking for a relatively new fic I read a while back. It featured Azi and Crowley living in the South Downs and Crowley is snatched while out grocery shopping by a gang of mafia guys, and they ransom him to Azi, who shows up and calmly scares the shit out of them by telling them he’s “The Bookseller.” I can’t find it to save my life and I want to reread it! - @doodlegirll
4. Hello dears! First off, thank you so much for all the work you do for the fandom. I was wondering if you could help me find a fic. Aziraphale is discorporated during WW1 and Crowley was sleeping and didn't know. During the church scene in 1941, when Crowley comes aziraphale has a flashback and is barely able to save them. They talk about it after. Thanks again! - @candysunset27
5. Hi!! I’ve been going through this account for a while and it’s been so so great finding tons of fics with all the tropes I love!! There’s this one fic I saw that I can’t remember and I was really hoping you could help me find it! From what I do remember in the fic, Aziraphale is suicidal, and keeps on discorporating himself. If it’s too much of an ask I totally understand- Take all the time you need !!! 💖💖💖💖💖 - anon
If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)
- Mod D
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What The Radiant Orders Would See as their Fandom Job on the Internet
Orders on the internet requested by @justheretoreadnotwrite :)
Justheretoreadnotwrite pointed me to this very fun 17th Shard thread, and asked if I could do a riff on the Radiant Orders being on the internet. Since I wanted to try avoiding the jokes already there, I thought I would focus in on how they'd act in fandom on the internet. Specifically, what would each Order think is their Duty in Fandom?
1. Edgedancers: Finding & Leaving Comments for Zero-Kudo Fics
The Edgedancers make it their mission to listen to those who are forgotten--in this case, fics with no kudos, no comments, or no notes. The Edgedancers come to read them, like them, and comment on them!
2. Lightweavers: Posting Fanart & Engaging in Character RP chats
You want your favorite character or OC to have art drawn of them? Just ask your nearest Lightweaver! Or, if you just wish you could roleplay with your favorite character, the Lightweavers can do that too. They are, like, VERY good at pretending to be other characters.
3. Bondsmiths: Writing Alt-Text
The Bondsmiths want to make sure that fandom is accessible to all, so they're out there writing descriptions and alt-text for any fanart or tweets or other images that screenreaders might struggle over. Barriers of communication are no match for our friendly Bondsmiths.
4. Truthwatchers: Writing Call-Out Posts
If someone is out there stealing art and posting it on their own blog/twitter/pinterest page as if it's their own....well, they better hope a Truthwatcher doesn't find them. Those Truthwatchers will be telling the original artist, and they may just write a call-out post if they have to.
5.Elsecallers: Writing, just, Really Excellent Analyses and Guides
The Elsecallers are the scholars of fandom. They are writing really in-depth analyses of both the original source and of your fanfic, and they're here posting guides about how to accurately portray, like, dyeing practices of x-century.
6. Willshapers: Writing Character x Reader Fics and Creating OCs
The Willshapers are out there putting themselves into fandom worlds--and helping you do the same. They're great at creating their own OCs and/or self-inserts, and they're the ones writing all of the Character x Reader fics as well.
7. Stonewards: Writing the Majority of the Actual Fanfic
In terms of sheer output--like keeping the fandom running by doing the hard work of actually writing fics--the Stonewards are leading the way. If there's such a thing as the "front lines" of fandom, I think it's people filling A03 and creating longform content.
8. Windrunners: Forum/Discord Moderation
The Windrunners want to make sure that fandom spaces are protected & safe for their members, so they're likely to take on the role of administrators or moderators--kinda like, you know, being the king's guard but here the the "king" is 19 people who all want to talk about the same character.
9. Dustbringers: Being the Most Popular Person in the Fandom
The Dustbringers are the "great power / great responsibility" order. They know they could level that city or dissolve that person into atoms or whatever, but they have more restraint that that. Probably. In the same way, Dustrbingers are The Person in their fandom. If they choose to retweet or reblog or boost your fic/art/analysis, you are made, my friend. On the other hand, if they decide you're an enemy...
10. Skybreakers: Following the Rules. The Internet Rules.
Listen, the Skybreakers don't judge rules, they follow rules. So if a fandom on the internet has rules, the Skybreakers really have no choice to follow them. You know, like Rule 34 for example.
So yes, the Skybreakers are out there making sure there is porn of your favorite character. You're welcome.
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hii!! i absolutely loveee your fanfics sm ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
i was wondering if you could maybe write something abt emo best friend txt (OT5) being jealous over your other guy friends? and you can also add your own plot to it ^^
(hope this request isn’t confusing… 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹 )
— emo jealous bestfriend txt!
warnings <3: !mean txt (sorry.. i swear they mean well!) , crybaby reader! (im sorry again cry baby reader is always so cute to me..) , jealous n possessive txt! , loser reader but it’s okay because she’s pretty and sweet!
a/n <3: hai !! the emoticons you use r sooo cute like seriously :D nnn it’s not confusing don’t worry!! i hope u like this fic too tysm for the support ily smsmsm :3
!emo jealous bestfriend txt who’d stare down at you talking to one of your guy friends with their pierced tongue poking at the inside of the cheek jealously being the only emotion they knew at the moment; “what did he want? why was he talking to you?” he charged at you gripping onto your arm stopping you from walking away from him
you’d whimper quietly secretly liking his aggressive behavior; “chad just wanted to hangout this weekend at my place he said there’s this new video game he wants to try with m-me” you shudder looking up at the angry emo boy in front of you
“bullshit i can tell by how he was eye fucking you, he’s definitely only interested in fucking you” your bestfriend bluntly splats with venom on his tongue not really paying attention to how mean that sounded to you
“you really think that? you think no one would ever be interested beyond just fucking me?” you felt your voice tremble as you sniffle back tears
your bestfriends eyes soften as panic rushes through their veins, “what no don’t cry im just saying chad is just using you-“ “so you think i’m all used up too!?” you were struggling to let out a sentence as you cried harder only making the emo boy panic more
“baby please open the door i promise i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings like that i just-“ your bestfriend pounds at your door begging for you to open up as you sob out a weak ‘no! go away you’re so mean to me!’
but you being you; you never liked making your bestfriend chase after you or dwell on his mistakes so you let him in your room after his countless apologies of course
“do i really have to cancel on chad? i swear its just gonna be a friend date nothing more” you’d frown as your cries finally died down but only because your bestfriend agreed to play with your hair as you laid on their lap
your bestfriend rolled his eyes with a sigh trying to snatch your phone away from your hands as your eyes widen at the sudden movement; “w-what are you doing?” you didn’t let your phone go
this angered your bestfriend more; causing him to grip on your wrists as an attempt to get your phone from you. “im gonna tell chad to fuck off since you’re too much of a pussy to say no to somebody” he dryly laugh at you “if you care about your wrists not bruising i suggest you let go” the emo boy warns you gripping onto you tighter
you let out a yelp in pain as you quickly let go; hovering on his broad shoulder watching him text chad a nasty text message reading ‘next time you interact with y/n your family is going to wake up to your skull and bones as a wreath decoration hanging from your front door’ and you felt goosebumps at that threat
“you’re not gonna do that to my family one day right?” you were worried slowly backing away from your bestfriend. “not unless you’re a good girl for me and stay away from all of your guy friends but you can do that right?” he pulled you closer grinning at your scared state
“all my guy friends?” you’d ask
“every single one of them” your bestfriend assured you and you gulped
a/n <3: i thought of jealous girl by lana del rey woah
#angelina’s garden ♡!#coquette#emo x coquette#txt x reader#txt#txt x y/n#txt headcanons#txt reactions#txt imagines#txt oneshots
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I saw your bakugou with sibling reader! I loved it and would like to ask for a continuation
Maybe when the reader gets their quirk? And how would the family and others react if it does turn out to be more powerful than his
★。／ plus ultra: echo burst! ＼。★
pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader (part two!)
(here's a link to part one if you haven't read it yet!)
fandom: boku no hero academia
word count: 5.4k
tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo, and some canon typical violence, unedited because i’m too tired for that- (very little violence, only implied/mentioned, little baby y/n bakugo doesn’t need that–)
notes: this is my first fic sequel! on my old blog, i had a sequel planned out and requested of bakugo’s sibling ending up quirkless, so if anyone wants to see a secondary sequel about a quirkless!sibling as well, let me know! but of course, they/them pronouns for little sibling bakugo, and please enjoy! thank you again for requesting this fic anon!
! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !
‘don’t touch that y/n.’
katsuki bakugo reluctantly holds onto the tiny, chubby hand of his little sibling, dragging them haphazardly through a crowded market aisle. despite being late to your appointment at the doctor, you had begged him to take you to get ice cream afterwards. your appointment had gone well, and mitsuki had demanded he do anything you wanted today.
he decides to let you loose in a merchandise store just off the side of the street. it’s the same one where you had gotten your all might onesie, and your favourite lunch boxes. he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same place deku got all his merch too.
looking around at the merch, he can’t help but think of your appointment, though it hadn’t really bothered him at all before now.
things were great. your joints in your little toe showed you would get your quirk at some point, it would develop, which would no doubt relieve his mother - she had long ago begun doubting whether you would end up quirkless, and the idea had concerned her until she had almost driven herself mad. but, according to him, you were fine. a quirk would come to you eventually, it just had to develop, and he told bakugo that things would be fine with a hearty smile on his round face.
it had made him think - he would only admit that it was briefly - what it would be. your quirk. would it be explosive like his own or would it be defensive or weaker? despite thinking of this too, he didn’t really have the heart - and he had one, deep down, for you - to think of his sibling any differently.
‘katsuki!’ you come running up to him, a round bandaid on your bare arm from the blood test you undertook. you cried a little, but toughed it up, your eyes still slightly red. in your arms is a soft midnight plush, and you hold it out to him with the biggest grin he’s probably ever seen. ‘can i get a midnight?’
he looks at it for a moment. he doesn’t even bother asking how much it might be before he deflates at the doe-eyed look you give your big brother. you walk him to the counter and hold his hand while he pays for your new plushee. one you definitely didn’t need.
with midnight plush in hand, you let him lead you out of the store.
bakugo isn’t stupid, he knows the city isn’t safe when it gets darker. he knows that villains lie on almost every corner, and that he can’t always predict when or where they might strike. he had let you drag him anywhere, and stupidly he followed. because what kind of brother would he be if he denied you? that’s how he ends up halfway across the city and carrying you home while you doze off on his shoulder. your midnight plush pressed tightly between your backs. but something passes overhead, a dark shape in the sky. a shop alarm rings out through the blackness of the street. the night lights flicker on.
it’ll only take him about fifteen minutes to get you home. but even he can feel the slightest thrill of fear that sets in. a prickling on his skin.
then a bin in the alley rattles and knocks over. from the quick flash he can see, it’s not one of the villains he’s seen before, or at least no one important enough to remember. his grip tightens around your legs, hoisting you higher on his back before he continues his walk home, his steps quickening despite himself.
your head lolls on his shoulder, your face pressed into his shirt.
‘kat? what’s wrong?’ he doesn’t answer you, only slides you onto the concrete quickly and hides you behind an alcove in the storefront. he makes sure you’re hidden by the foliage hanging overhead. ‘katsuki?’
‘stay here, ok?’ he tells you quietly, ruffling your hair a little bit to calm the panicked glaze in your eyes. it doesn’t work. his parents were always better at this stuff. ‘don’t make a sound.’
you’ve watched katsuki fight before. you’ve seen villain attacks that he got caught up with on the news, as a u.a student it’s almost expected. but this is different. you had never seen it in person. never felt the heat radiating off his explosions, seen the buildings behind this villain crumble on impact, never felt the ringing of your ears when it finally bursts. no, this is different. katsuki has only been hit once or twice, dodging the villains knives that seem to almost miraculously float around him, flying in any direction he pleases. it scares you, just how close it feels now. you don’t think you like it very much at all.
but then katsuki dodges one of those flying knives, and on his cheek a shallow wound oozes a trickle of blood. he wipes it away nonchalantly, like this happens all the time. you had never seen something like this, he was always patched up by the time he came home to see you. but this is terrifying.
without a thought, you leap forward from the alcove, little legs pounding the pavement as you plant yourself in the space between katsuki and the villain. your little arms outstretched to protect your brother, your midnight plush clutched in your fists. fat tears roll down your round cheeks and your lip trembles. the villain laughs at you, you think. and katsuki yells at you to reach cover again. maybe he barks out some threat, hoping it would scare you enough to run away. but it doesn’t. instead, you let yourself be curled into his arms and you hold midnight like a beacon. your crying erupts into earth-shattering screams.
a shockwave bursts from your fingers, the force pulsating in your skin and travelling up your arms. it hurts a little bit, makes your arms shake. your knees feel weak as you hold it, the bubble growing until it pins the villain against the alley wall. it crumbles under his weight, pushing his form against the brick. even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to let it go.
‘y/n, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ katsuki soothes with a hand on your head, shielding your gaze from the villain as he finally falls limp to the floor. not quite dead, not yet at least. ‘let’s go home, yeah?’
you nod up at him, and the shockwave droops, it fades, becoming a small bubble around you and your brother, encasing you in safety as you play with the tips of midnight’s hair.
katsuki doesn’t quite understand it immediately, but it clicks for him as he reaches the front step of your home, looking down at your sleeping form cradled in his arms, he realises just how powerful your quirk could be. your cheeks are red and splotchy from your crying before, and yet you look almost peaceful.
he moves aside your hair, and looks down at your face.
despite knowing you would always be an amazing hero, now he knew for sure. now he could probably brag that his little sibling was going to surpass even all might.
maybe, he wouldn’t mind you surpassing him either, if you kept smiling like you had.
#bnha#mha#bnha fluff#bnha x reader#bnha imagines#fanfic#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#platonic love#platonic#siblings#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha imagines#midoriya izuku x reader#denki kaminari#denki#kirishima#hero#iida tenya#uraraka ochacho#detroit smash#gender neutral reader#sibling reader#x sibling reader#wholesome#fluff
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Pretty Baby 2
༺Summary༻
Astarion is a brat on several occasions and is duly punished for it. In between, he and Mommy (Fina) deal with some emotional issues.
༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav
༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Porn with Feelings, Porn streaming, Pegging, Astarion being a brat
༺Word Count༻ 3783
༺A/N༻
So, it's chapter 2 of a fic I never planned to write. Lol. And somewhow now we've got plot and feelings involved. Hope you all enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it.
And huge thank you to the best of betas and friends, @icybluepenguin
The chat is populated by Tav's and other characters from my friends, they all helped makes this a delight.
Check out two similar fics if you dig mine.
Decadent Torture and Careless Whisper
Read On AO3
Chapter 1
“Hush, a little more, then your punishment is over.” I let go of his cock, turn off the plug vibrating in his ass, and give him a short reprieve.
Drawing gasping breaths, he looks up at me with pleading, tear filled eyes. God, his eyes are pretty; startling crimson, soft, and round. Normally, I cave when they're all watery like this. But not tonight - tonight is for lessons.
I play with the little pink bow on his white thigh high stocking. Leaving him with only those, his white bra, and of course his collar, made him such a fetching picture for our little teaching session.
He'd spent most of the night on his knees in the naughty corner, those stockings peeking out of his pleated white skirt, a little pink cashmere sweater completing his look. I'd posted a few pictures that had his audience nice and worked up.
Demi_g0ddess: oh looks like Little Star was very bad today
can’t wait to see what Mommy does to the little brat
Bookworm420: didn’t realize Mommy was a thicc queen
this might be too much for my ovaries
The chat had been crowded when we set up for the stream. Before the camera went on, I told him what to take off and how to prep, but not what I was planning.
We went live and I made him give a little introduction.
“I've had a very bad attitude lately and Mommy wants to make sure I'm thoroughly punished, so she's letting you all watch.” Every word was said petulantly as he leaned into playing the brat.
Ari147: wonder what he did…
Drag-onme: who cares, as long we get to watch the aftermath
BardlockLongdick: is that a leather couch
animal cruelty is not sexy.
“Go on,” I prompted, gesturing for him to get ready.
The clothes he stripped were folded and set to the side, the chat cheering him on. When he kneeled down, I handed him a vibrating plug that made his eyes go wide.
“Mommy, please…” he pleaded, but obediently went to work prepping and inserting it, cheeks flushed a deep red. I let him position himself in my lap, head propped on the arm of the couch. Then I started typing, Astarion watching with dawning horror.
Mommy: Little Star has been an absolute brat about wearing a chastity cage while I’m out of town, because he wouldn’t be able to touch himself. So, tonight, I’m making him come as many times as I think he can handle.
Demonbbyy: poor little thing got himself into a lot of trouble
TestyZesty: Mommy is way too nice about it
but I’m still going to watch.
And here we were- Astarion, covered in his own semen, whimpering in my arms. I drag my finger along his cock, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. One more and I think he’ll have learned his lesson. I push the button on the remote for the plug.
“Fuck,” he whines the word.
Penguino: aww, Mommy, I think he’s had enough
TestyZesty: nah, he’s still coherent
keep going
Demi_g0ddess: Zesty, we’re sharing a brain cell
DrowDaddy: this chat is very mean tonight
I put a generous coating of lube on my hand and begin to work his shaft again. He pants and moans, desperate sounds falling from his lips as he builds to another orgasm.
The chat continues to go feral as he whines and cries. I'm gentle this last round, languidly rubbing, letting the plug do its work. “That's it, one more for me. You've been so good for your punishment.”
He squirms at the praise, tearfully whimpering, hips weakly bucking as I take him to climax again. My other hand turns up the intensity on the plug.
“Pleeeease,” he cries, voice ragged.
Another spurt of cum and he goes limp. I turn off the plug and lean down to kiss his sweat soaked forehead, letting him recover for a moment. He's so pretty like this, spent and helpless in my lap. “Now, are you ready to apologize for being such a little brat the past couple of days?”
He doesn't hesitate. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” he whimpers, tears running down his face.
“Good baby. Almost done.”
He tenses. “But...”
“Shh. They get to see because of the attitude.” He makes a noise. “Don't turn this into a spanking session,” I warn and he gets quiet.
I take a warm, moist towel I'd set up earlier and clean up his pretty cock. The chat is losing it.
KneelForMeSweets: and we get to see the cage
can he act up every night
It's a pretty pink little chastity cage, just perfect for him. I slide the ring on first, then put the tube over his cock before locking it down. He's so quiet, I can hear every breath and the sniffles he's still fighting.
Once they get a good look, I shut down the stream.
Mommy: I'm going to go get this little brat cleaned up. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson.
Bitchybambi: I hope not, I want to see what you do next
KneelForMeSweets: she can DM me for ideas.
I kill the video and give him a proper kiss as he clings to me, spent and shivering. “Come on, you. Bath time.”
Astarion is unusually quiet during our aftercare session, and when he's settled into bed in a pair of oversized pajamas, I pull him close, and he snuggles into my neck on instinct.
“You know, if you think it's too much to wear it, you don't have to.” I run my fingers through his curls and cover his face in soft kisses. He's done stints in the cage before, but I'm starting to doubt myself on this one. It would kill me to ever hurt him for real.
He doesn't move; if anything, he burrows deeper into the crook of my neck. “It's not, and I am sorry for being a pain. It's just…”
He makes a small, frustrated noise and I keep petting him. “Take your time.”
For a few minutes, he just takes shaky breaths, and then he speaks. “It’s this whole going back to school thing. I'm nervous, and you're going to be gone for the next two days. And what if this is a dumb idea and I can't do it.”
“It's not a dumb idea, you really like fashion design, baby. And why do you think you can't do it?”
“Remember the last time I was in school? I failed out.”
“Astarion, you didn't want to be a lawyer and you hated law school. You only went because Caz-” I feel him tense in my arms, “because he made you.”
“I know.” He sounds teary again. “But it doesn't mean I don't feel stupid.”
“Love, my pretty little wife, you are not stupid. You’re capable and creative. And you know I won’t have time on this stupid team building trip, otherwise I’d bring you with.”
“Still going to miss you, though.”
“I know, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”
The next morning, Astarion drives me to the airport. I put the keys for his collar and the cage in my jewelry box in case of an emergency or if it’s too much for him. It's cold and rainy, and he’s adorable in oversize sweats with sleepy eyes. After he unloads my bag, I pull him in for a hug and feel it pressed against me. A wave of lust courses through me; I can’t wait to come back and have a nice little session with him.
“Call me when you land, Fina.”
I don’t know if he realizes how much I’ll miss him. Astarion and I have rarely been apart since we met in grad school. It's just as hard on me to get on that plane and be without him.
We get one quick call before I’m off to the first of many “activities” the firm planned. I can’t be too angry about it, they pay a ton, and it finances my trophy wife’s lifestyle. I tell Astarion I’ll call him after dinner and karaoke hour.
The whole day isn't that tortuous, and most of my coworkers get into the spirit of things for karaoke. I still make my exit as soon as I can to get some time in with Astarion.
To my surprise, I see he's streaming. Sprawled out on the bed in a sheer black satin chemise that's ridden up his thighs enough to show off his beautifully caged cock.
Instead of anything salacious, he's painting his nails. Not every stream is as action filled as last night. Some of them are just mundane things like now. I can’t fault the audience, I'd still pay to see him too, if he wasn’t mine already. I slide into the chat without announcing myself.
Ari147: nothing fun tonight? :(
“I’m afraid not, darling. If I don’t get any fun, neither do you.” He blows a cheeky kiss to the camera, and readjusts, spreading his legs more. One hand idly traces unpainted nails along a thigh while he blows on the ones he just painted.
He’s such a filthy little tease.
Mommy: glad to see you’re behaving yourself tonight
He sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “Hi, Mommy. Missing all this?” His hand climbs higher, running up his abdomen to his chest.
Demonbbyy: if she isn’t, I’ll take him
Mommy: settle yourselves down
Astarion leans over, getting on all fours to look directly into the camera, licking his lips. “Well, are you?” he pouts.
Mommy: you know I am, and I’ll prove it when I get home
His breath hitches. “That’s all for tonight, darlings. I want to give Mommy all my… attention.”
The stream goes blank and he’s video-calling me seconds later. “Hi.” He smiles giddily. “I thought you might be a little later.”
“What can I say, I do actually miss you a lot. How was your day?”
We chat for a while and I watch him finish his nails, still in his chemise, which hides nothing as he shifts around. He seems less nervous about the school situation, which I chalk up to actually talking about it.
“Alright, I should probably get to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”
The morning call goes smooth enough, but the day is filled with seminars and an afternoon paintball session. Why do HR departments always think that’s a good idea? Astarion starts texting me around lunch, chatty little messages that I don’t have time to properly answer. Then the attitude creeps in.
“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me.”
“I. Am. Busy. Astarion. I’ll call after dinner.”
I forgot dinner is an awards banquet that traps me for longer than I’d anticipated. It never seems to end, and I start trying to text him during it. No response, and a part of me begins to stress that he’s not doing well. He’d tell me though if he wasn’t, I’m pretty sure.
I practically run up to my room after dinner, skipping the cocktail hour after and all the great networking. All because he has me nearly panicked with worry. So of course, when he doesn’t answer his phone, I’m furious to find him on stream.
He’s not actually wearing anything, sitting on the plush white rug, a cozy glow from the fireplace providing ambient lighting.
BaasaNova: weren’t you supposed to be in a chastity cage while Mommy is gone
He gives his hard cock a firm stroke and moans dramatically, red eyes dancing with mischief. “If I’m getting ignored, I’m not going to listen. Besides, she’s busy, so what she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her.”
Bookworm420: this seems like a bad idea
I don't want to see you get in trouble.
It isn’t about disobeying me, or any other kink related thing. He really thinks I’d ignore him on purpose. And that stings like nothing else I've ever felt.
I wait and lurk while he continues to touch himself. He's bubbly and flamboyant, basking in the praise of the chat. Normally, I'd be entranced by his hand working that gorgeous shaft, now I'm getting more furious.
Finally, with an exaggerated cry, he comes all over himself. While his hand gives a few more lazy pumps, he glances at the chat.
Mommy: I hope that was worth it
His eyes get wide and he sits up straight. “Shit.”
The stream dies just as he starts calling me.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” he whimpers before I can say anything.
“Astarion,” I cut him off. “I want you to know that I still love you and that isn't going to change. But I'm so hurt and angry right now that you could decide I would ignore you on purpose.”
“Please, I just…”
“No, we're not going to talk about this now. I'm going to give you until I get home tomorrow to get your thoughts together. But right now I'm too angry to talk to you. So I'm going to go to bed and will call you in the morning.”
He sobs. “No, stay on the phone with me. Please, Fina.”
I sigh and relent. “I love you, Star.”
We lay in silence for a long time, the occasional sniffle coming from his end. Finally, I'm too exhausted and have to sleep, and reluctantly tell him goodnight.
There's a subdued call in the morning and I tell him I'll get a cab at the airport, I don't think he should be driving while that upset. Then I'm on the way home. The anger has mostly worn off but this stunt of his still hurts.
When I get home, hev hasn't left the bed, completely naked, almost hiding under the covers. I don't even think twice before getting under them with him and pulling him to me.
“I'm sorry,” he says softly into my neck, reminding me so much of the day we first kissed. The day I'd needed to take care of him after what Cazador had done to him.
“I know. Tell me what happened.” I bury my face in his curls and kiss his head.
“I started getting nervous again and started to panic, and I wanted to talk to you. And I got upset that I couldn't. I know you wouldn't just ignore me.”
“Then why didn't you say you were anxious? I could have made time if I had known you were panicking.”
“I didn't want you to think I was weak. Especially after you told me that you believed in me.”
“Astarion, love, you are always going to be one of the strongest people I've ever met.” My hands rub his back, fingers finding the scars of years of his adopted father's “discipline.” “I'm sorry too, I think I pushed you into something you didn't need while you were nervous. Even if you said you were alright with it.”
He gets quiet for a moment before answering. “It isn’t your fault. You’re always the best you can be to me.”
“Still, maybe we should take a break from some of the more performative things.” I feel him tense and kiss his cheek to reassure him.
“No, it makes me so happy to be like that, to be so completely yours. Don’t take that away.”
“Let's talk some more tomorrow. There's no need to rush anything.”
“Alright. And, well, you did say that you were going to show me how much you missed me?” His voice pitches soft and breathy.
“Astarion, you horny little gremlin,” I tease.
“Please, Mommy. I know I was very naughty, but don't I deserve a little treat?”
I already feel slick between my legs, even if I'm not sure that I should let him do this.
“I know what you're thinking, but I can handle some relatively vanilla sex right now. I want to be loved.” He gives me his best wide-eyed pleading look.
“Alright, baby.”
I sit up, and he helps me undress, leaving kisses wherever he can reach. My hand reaches out to wrap around his stiffened cock and give a few languid strokes. I catch his eyes wandering down to my breasts with naked longing.
Relatively vanilla, he said.
“Come here.”
I lay back, and he follows, slotting between my legs. His cock pushes into me as his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sucks frantically. “There you go.” I stroke his hair, and he starts fucking me with wild, desperate thrusts. “That's what you needed, huh, baby.”
He whines and sucks harder, teeth scraping until pleasure blends with pain. Molten heat builds in my core with each snap of his hips, and I doubt either of us will last long.
“So good for me,” I pant as I feel myself contract around him and my body tingle with bliss. That does it, and he gives one last jerky thrust as I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to take every drop of him.
He collapses on top of me, still suckling, and I let him stay that way, fucked and comforted.
After a very nice Saturday in our pajamas, we talk and settle some things between us. Astarion is still very nervous about school in a couple of weeks, but doesn't want to change the things he loves about our relationship. He even insists on punishment for his bad behavior.
We agree on three days with the chastity cage, the two he originally was supposed to have and one extra. No clothing at home, so I can see it at all times. It kills me not being able to play with my wife's pretty cock. But you know, discipline hurts me more than it hurts him, or something.
And at the end of the third day, a very serious lesson. So, I arrange something special, to be shared with his audience, like he shared his misbehavior. He's been waiting in the bedroom while I set things up.
“Safe word, wifey,” I order when I come to collect him.
He stares at my too short, black latex dress with my pale pink strap-on visible where it rides up over my thighs, and blushes. “Objection.”
“Good, baby.” I lead him to the living room where the camera is already at the right angle to watch as I bend him over the couch arm, pushing his face into the cushion right next to the waiting paddle. I watch him shiver with anticipation and spare a glance at the chat. They’re in rare form tonight.
DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Back from my two week ban just in time.
Thornyonmain: Hggnnnnnn, god he looks so good like that
am I enjoying the impending pain too much
Bitchybambi: Nah, he's asked for this
Demi_g0ddess : You're so right, bestie
Penguino: Aww, you guys, have a little sympathy
Picking up the paddle, I run it over the curve of his ass and hear him whimper. My hand pushes down on his back, commanding and reassuring. The first smack is light and I give him a moment. He trembles but says nothing.
Another one, slightly harder, he whines but doesn’t say anything. I keep going, watching his pale skin burst into red blossoms with each impact. I can feel him shaking under my hand and hear when he starts to cry.
“You’re being so good,” I coo.
He sobs in response. It’s been awhile since he had a serious spanking session. I keep whispering praise as I go, letting him know how well he’s doing, how much I love him. He’s a teary mess when I’m done, and I can feel the warmth coming from his skin.
“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mommy,” he whines through tears.
“Shh, shh, I know. I think you deserve a little reward for taking the punishment so well.”
l take the lube I have waiting and coat my fingers. He whines for a totally different reason when I spread him open and push a finger inside his tight hole.
“Fuck,” he mewls when the second one enters.
He pants through clenched teeth while I work them inside of him, getting him ready to take me. Each stretch and flex draws a new noise and when he’s ready, I coat the strap in lube and press the tip of it against his entrance. Even with a stinging ass, he rolls his hips into it, desperate and needy.
I gave him a little playful smack on the marks darkening to bruises. “Behave.”
He yelps but stills. Slowly, I slide it into him, relishing each little moan as I fill him. Then my hips rock, and I thrust deeply, before stilling again.
“Please,” he begs, desperately.
“Please what?”
“Fuck me, Mommy.”
I reward him with another deep thrust, and began to move my hips with a quick rhythm. Under me, Astarion is losing himself, keening wails and pleading whimpers accompany my every movement.
I'm aware just how achingly empty I am; later we’ll take care of me. Right now, I focus on making him properly blissed out.
I know his cock is straining against the cage, leaking helplessly, as he reaches the edge. My fingers dig into his hips and I fuck him as deep as I can until a wordless shout rips from him and his whole body is shaking again. I press my hips tight to his, as deep into him as I can while his orgasm ebbs away with multiple whimpers, only pulling out when he’s stilled.
Turning back, I give the chat a good-bye and end the stream.
SquidDomme: He has in fact not learned anything
DrowDaddyG: I think he'll try to be better, he's such a sweet boy
BardlockLongdick: Maybe you all should try opening a Bible instead of this website
DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Anyone know how I can get an air horn noise to play in chat (I'm joking, please don't ban me again)
Then I remove the strap-on and save it for later clean up. “Come here, wifey,” I say, sitting on the couch.
Sluggishly, he obeys, coming to rest his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and let him come down from the experience.
“I love you,” he murmurs into my thighs.
“I love you too. No more bratty behavior, right?”
I feel the little smirk he makes. “Absolutely, lesson learned.”
We both know he's lying, but I trust none of it will be super hurtful again. “Good little wife.”
Tag list:
@micropoe10 @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21
@tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin
@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly
@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird
@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved
@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly
#bg3#astarion#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate 3 fanfic#bg3 tav#tav#astarion x tav#my fanfic#my writing#modern au
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FEST RECAP
Thank you all for a wonderful flash fest!
24 fics based on 16 songs with the most popular being "The Prophecy," "Peter," and "But Daddy I Love Him." The Black cousins reign supreme over this album with Regulus (7), Sirius (6), Andromeda (5), Narcissa (5) and Bellatrix (4) being the most popular characters. 9 fics met the challenge of having a word count which ends with 13.
Thank you to all the writers, and maybe we'll see you again for a flash fest for Rep (tv). In the meantime, come hang out in @marauders-taylor-fiending discord server or participate in @thetorturedpoetsfest <3
She's the Albatross (She's Here to Destroy You) by thistlecat (Narcissa centric, 313, T)
Beautiful, poised Narcissa Black Malfoy, so unlike her mad sisters with their insistence on destruction.
Song: The Albatross
Did you really beam me up in a cloud of sparkling dust just to send me back where I came from? by @comesitintheclover (Harry-centric, 1013 words, G)
Harry wakes up from a long nightmare where he reckons with the anger of being left in an abusive home and how to feel about all that he's been through now that it's finally over and he's finally safe.
Song: Down Bad
If Only by multilingualism (Hermione/Severus, 1013, T)
Severus imagines what could have been.
A greater woman has faith by @sugarsnappeases (Lily/Sybill, 3849, T)
they're exes. they're miserable. things ensue.
Song: The Prophecy
Take the Glory, Give Everything by MidnightStargazer (Narcissa & Regulus, Narcissa & Draco, 743, T)
Regulus dreams of glory, longing to make a name for himself and be remembered. Eighteen years later, Draco does the same. Narcissa knows better.
Song: Clara Bow
The Prophecy by eggmett (Regulus/Tom Riddle, 1013, M)
The prophecy—For neither can live while the other survives. The thing that had finally sent Tom over the edge. Confimation that he would fall before he had even finished rising. But the omen sentenced us to death that day too. Tom and I would never be free of each other as long as we’re both alive. We’d never be able to live inside this toxic world we built. It didn’t stop me for yearning for it. I’ll always be desparate for his attention. Desparate for his touch.
Song: The Prophecy
Promises, Oceans Deep by @sixlane (Regulus & Sirius, 2357, T)
Regulus lies awake on the night of his 14th birthday, running through the plan over and over in his mind. He’s had years to work it out, make sure it’s perfect, but tonight it becomes real, no room for messing up. If he’s caught, he’s dead. He knows this like he knows his own name. A truth his parents have been telling him since Sirius left.
or,
Regulus executes his escape to meet his brother, but he must soon face the fact that he's been left behind. When Sirius finally turns up, he's seven years too late.
Song: Peter
A Dangerous Man by MidnightStargazer (Lucius/Narcissa, 695, T)
Lucius has blood on his hands and owes his allegiance to Lord Voldemort, but Narcissa doesn't care.
Song: I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
what if he's written "Mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? by @thistlecatfics (Sirius/Regulus, 1013, E)
Regulus and Sirius are brothers. Regulus and Sirius are no longer brothers.
Or, a culmination of fatal fantasies.
Song: Guilty as Sin
Peter by Faelostinwoods (Marlene & Peter, 229, G)
Peter had been angry, angry at his friends who treating him worse as the war got worse, angry at dumbledore for not protecting them, angry at whoever created his story because it was getting worse. He had joined the death eaters, in a desperate attempt to change his outcome. Yet, he didn’t expect it to go this far.
Song: Peter
my absence makes headlines by @plecotusauritus (Sirius-centric, 459, G)
the scandal was contained
the bullet had just grazed
at all cost keep your good name
you don't get to tell me you feel bad
Song: Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?
Forever Guilty, of Sin by @nena-96 (Hermione/Ron, 2148, M)
Hermione is alone inside the tent, as she tried to read The Tales of Beedle the Bard, but her memories blend in with the guilty fantasy that was being with Ron Weasley.
Song: Guilty as Sin
loml by @emlovessid (Regulus/James, 1013, M)
It’s only been a few weeks since he’s been able to put words to it, but the feeling itself has been there from the beginning, from the first twining of hands and hitching of breath as their lips brushed, growing and growing until–
“I love you,” James sighs, the words tumbling out as he breathes freely for the first time in weeks. “You might be the love of my life, actually.”
Song: loml
So Long, London by @tealeavesandtrash (Sirius/Remus, 1013, T)
The silence hangs heavy, dead air suffocating. The sky outside is covered in grey clouds, casting the kitchen gloomy shadows. The pathetic fallacy is well-suited at least. Sirius’ eyes burn into him, staring him down over a cup of tea. It makes Remus’ skin crawl worse than the half-healed scars that litter his arms and back. He focuses on buttering the dry toast. Three months ago Sirius would have had breakfast ready for him when he came home. Six months ago he was still begging to spend the full moon together.
Song: So Long, London
Burn My Life Down by @thecasualauthor (Andromeda/Ted, 637, G)
She sees everything about her life burn to ashes.
Song: But Daddy I Love Him
Slow Quicksand, Poisoned Blood by @nodirectionhome-ao3 (James/Lily, 913, T)
After learning of the prophecy that threatens to doom her son, Lily begs the cosmos to spare him from this fate.
Song: The Prophecy
I might just love you 'til the end by @ncoincidences (James/Lily, 1013, G)
James and Lily have been together since high school, seven years with each other. Recently, they have been drifting apart... will they make it till the end?
Song: imgonnagetyouback
These Fatal Fantasies by MidnightStargazer (Bellatrix/Tom, Bellatrix/Rodolphus, 606, M)
Bellatrix is faithful to her husband. Technically. But her heart belongs to the Dark Lord.
Song: Guilty as Sin
Mine Alone to Disgrace by MidnightStargazer (Andromeda/Ted, 474, G)
Andromeda tells her parents she's engaged to Ted Tonks
Song: But Daddy I Love Him
I Can Do It With a Broken Heart by MidnightStargazer (Narcissa centric, 770, T)
Narcissa won't let anyone see her cry, even when her heart is breaking.
Song: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart
but now we’ll curtail your curiosity (in sweetness) by @chemicalwildflowers (Andromeda & Tonks, Andromeda & Bellatrix, 215, G)
Nymphadora finds an old photo.
Andromeda wants to protect her, for just one more day.
Song: Robin
The Black Dog by ghstboys (Sirius/Remus, Remus/Tonks, 154, unrated)
Sirius watches Remus and Tonks from the afterlife.
Song: The Black Dog
But Daddy I Love Him by @miss-grimwood (Bellatrix/Rodolphus, 146, T)
Bellatrix tries her best to avoid an arranged marriage with Lucius Malfoy in favour of Rodolphus Lestrange.
Song: But Daddy I Love Him
said you’d come and get me but you were twenty-five (and the shelf life of those fantasies has expired) by @effiepotterisamilf (Regulus & Sirius, 295, G)
It’s Sirius’ 25th birthday and he’s not coming back for Regulus.
Song: Peter
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Re: your tag “a top 10 video of the day tbh” - that made me curious. What ARE your top videos of the day and why?
Shuffled back through the videos for this, so here we go in no real particular order because I'm endeared to all of them and horrible with ranking things when they all make my mind vibrate in equal amounts.
Shoving this under a "read more" because it got long (top 10 moments and all) and fic-y.
I'll start out with the first real video of the day that I remember (not counting Shaun Farrugia's Insta Story that clued everyone into Lando being on the boat). Just them dancing with each other in essentially a circle of people. Martin's hand on Lando's shoulder, his thumb splaying out along Lando's collarbone. Makes me weak and ill in equal measure. They have several moments caught on camera that feel like a "this is us being close while still in public," type thing.
instagram
Them dancing together at the Decks. Who knows the state of Lando's sobriety at this point. It's so carefree and open. I love the little flags on his cheeks and the ribbon around his head (the chain of his necklace poking out the back of his hoodie overtop his undershirt). I'm pretty sure this is around the same time that Lando asks Martin if he wants a drink as well because Eva's on the other side of Martin as the camera pans up.
instagram
This is a more understated moment that's pretty quick, but I just love that they're dancing in their own little world with everyone. Parked up next to each other because where else would they be? (original video link)
tumblr
This video of them with Lando asking Martin if he wants a drink 🫠. Lando taking the second to ask Martin if wants anything, Martin pulling him close so he can hear what Lando's trying to tell him, the person recording the video panning over to them and then almost immediately pulling away, Martin stealing Lando's drink and then not letting him go while he pretends to drink it.... it's every bit of the video as you can see 😅. Like bro, you can let go of him, it's okay. But no, it's another one of those little moments I mentioned earlier where they can let themselves have this little thing in the middle of a crowded boat with who knows how many cameras pointed in their direction.
instagram
This video simply because it's cute and short and sweet. Them both vibing. I've put it here more so because of Lando's little dance and shimmy. It makes me sickeningly endeared. Lando may have quit DJing apart from special circumstances, but you can tell he loves getting into the rhythm of it.
I have... too much to say about this one... The fact that they're kind of sequestered off to the side a bit- Lando even behind what looks like a makeshift curtain of clothing. There are a few others around them, but boy if their attention isn't solely on each other. Their little mirrored dance is so much as well. But what absolutely annihilates me is the way you can tell they're both smiling at each other towards the end. Plus the fact that it looks like Lando either leans into Martin as the video cuts, or Martin pulls him in. In any case, it's a moment of privacy and it makes me ill.
instagram
These are two long Insta stories I recorded for reasons, the first one more pertinent to it immediately being here than the second. I just love Lando sitting in and amongst everyone. He's sitting next to Martin's father (which is an entirely separate thing tbh) chatting and having fun. The second video was included because when the lights go off and a spotlight shines back onto the area he was, Lando doesn't seem to be there, which was an interesting note I wanted to have in the records because of the shot of Martin making his way back in that direction during the first half. Much to think about. (Tumblr didn't like my embedded video, so here's a screenshot of the first bit, but you'll have to go through the link to see all of what I'm talking about)
This was just a quick tiny thing piggy-backing off the last video, but it's a more closeup shot of Lando chatting with Martin's father. It makes me all soft inside that he gets close with the families of the people important to him. (Tumblr also didn't like the embedded video that was originally here, so here's a screenshot if you don't want to click through to see the actual clip)
Putting this video here because of both Mat Normann's arms around Lando, but also because Martin's there vibing and dancing by his side. Like, they're truly just existing and having a good time. Need to know who gave Lando that stupid little visor. But again, I love it for the subtleness and the comfort with how packed that room was.
instagram
And then finally, this video that might as well be an hour long. The smiles, the bouncing back and forth... Martin's arm moves away from Lando at one point, almost like he was pulling Lando at the beginning. Many thoughts head very full. They almost never get to do this at the same time with each other, and it's an addicting feeling.
#damn the twitter vids for not embedding properly but i've got the links in the little blurb for those. i just couldn't find those videos#on instagram or tumblr to properly embed them#anyway i took ''top 10 moments'' seriously even though there weren't many not included that i have access to#they were truly living their best lives yesterday and i am so happy for them#lando#martin#norrix#ask
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This is kinda dark so if you don't wanna do it it's cool. Can I request Carmilla running into a son reader? [Years before she had her daughters she had a son but she was too strict/serious on her boy which led to him...taking his own life. The experience made Carmilla realize she mightve been too hard on him so when hid sisters come around she showers them with love] The reader thinks carmilla is going to scold him, scream at him or anything but she just hugs him hard and tells him she's sorry and that she loves him
i'd like to put my author's note up here before you guys read what i wrote/make a little disclaimer!
TW: mentions of harm
I wouldn't write the act, per-se, but i had absolutely no problem with your request because it doesn't really involve those details (fic wise) this one is mostly about comfort and a nice reunion!
just before you go, know your best-friend mal is always here for you <3 this and every other fic i write is my silent love-letter to you
𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐨 — 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞
𐐒 includes : carmilla carmine x son!reader, odette, clara
𐐒 cw : angst, hugs, kisses, comfort
𐐒 summary : after a few decades in hell, you decide it's time to stop putting it aside and visit your mother for the first time since you've appeared in hell. as anxious as you are, she receives your visit with open arms.
𐐒 word count : 1.1 k
The metal body of the cab rattled against the broken highway, the sights of Pentagon city flashing past you in a pink florescent blur. You sighed, slumping into the leather seats.
Were you really doing this?
The thought made your stomach bubble with new found nerves. Rolling and wrenching the muscles in your stomach so hard you suddenly had to lean forward in your seat. Forced to stare at all the dust and garbage littered about the floor.
"Oh god I'm gonna be sick," you mumbled to yourself.
"Don't throw up in my car kid," the driver growled at you, suddenly adjusting his rearview mirror so that he could keep an eye on you.
You tried not to roll your eyes, taking a quick glance out of the window just in time to witness the change in districts.
"Might wanna keep your head down kid! We're in Carmine's district now," he laughed, a hoarse sound filled with cigarette smoke.
You had never actually been in this part of hell. After all these years you've been here, watching as the districts had shifted between hands in the great soul exchange. . .
All those years until you realized she had fallen here just like you.
And you didn't really know how to process that thought just yet.
The once chaotic district was now more silent.
Shadows skulking between buildings and alleyways, making deals to sell weapons and bartering for money.
You grimaced, opting to let those images blur in your mind and let your head fall against the rattling window.
What possessed you to see your mother after all these year? Who knows. . .
It just felt like it had to be done.
Soon, the tall white building had come into view, a place you heard the overlords of hell met up.
And today, Carmilla would be here, same with your-. . .
Odette and Clara.
You stepped out of the cab, soles hitting the pavement with a tap. You paid what you owed to the driver and waved a quick thanks as he sped off, the devil on his heels.
That left you alone, standing like David against Goliath with the empire she had built.
She's. . . kept herself busy.
It's all you could think about. Staring at the gleaming tiles of the building with hesitance.
What would she say to you? Should you have told her you were coming? That you were here?
The sickness that seemed to be plaguing you had come back in waves.
The last time you had remembered seeing her, you were both alive on Earth, screaming at each others faces.
"One day, mi hijo, you will have to do everything for yourself! You will have to take over the business! YOU have to carry all that burdens us and I NEED you to be ready for that! Why can't you just see that! I won't always be here for you! YOU NEED TO STEP UP TO THIS!"
But. . .
You just couldn't do everything she had wanted of you. The standards, the rules, the burden. . . it was all too heavy for one person to carry.
And now here you were, on the white-waiting room couch unannounced.
To sayy. . . what exactly?
You bit at your nails in thought, leg bouncing up and down as you waited for your name to be called.
It was pretty empty today.
No one was really sitting in here with you.
That was a great thought.
A deep, strung-out exhale shook its way out of your lungs.
Nerves, you figured.
You didn't even know what to do with your hands, running them through your hair and rocking back and forth in your seat, wondering if it was too late to just stand up and leave-
"Um. . ." You stopped completely, turning your head towards the sound of your voice.
Just before the office doors, two small sinners stood side by side, holding a clipboard up to their faces as they eyed you with surprise.
Odette and Clara.
There was no mistaking them.
"That's. . . me?" You rose from your seat like a ghost, not really feeling anything but utter surprise.
It was the first time you've ever seen them. The same cream colored hair, the same eyes, they even stood en pointe like her.
Odette and Clara.
"Come with us," Clara beckoned, her curly hair and grey skin. . . did she look like that too? Now that she was a sinner?
Thank goodness the girls turned away from you quickly, giving you just enough time to wipe a stray tear from your eye. Estranged siblings that you've never even met. . . and you were so full of emotion at just the sight of them.
Did they know who you were?
You watched them wearily, the two exchanging quick glances at each other and occasionally, at you.
"She's right in here," Clara trailed off.
Odette glanced at you through her round glasses, a hint of worry lifting her eyebrows up "She wasn't expecting you today."
"Alright," you shrugged. I mean, it was a fact you already knew, but to hear the two of them say it to you was the final slap of reality you weren't sure you entirely needed.
The two of them opened the doors for you, watching intently as you shuffled into the room, and back at each other incredulously.
"Ay dios mio, I said I didn't have time for meetings. . ." you heard her mumble, face covered by a laptop screen, hunched over and lost in her work.
It was how you remembered her.
"Mamá," you called out, finally taking a seat in front of her desk, unsure of who or what you'd find on the other side of that screen.
With that one word, she froze still, a pair of demonic red eyes peering over the top of that silver screen.
"Mamá," you said again, a choked sound now that you realized it was her.
It was actually her.
A sinner, your mother, an overlord, who was finally before you.
It was like all the things you had planned on telling her had thrown themselves together and crumbled beneath the sight of her.
"Mi hijo."
"Mamá, I know you're mad at me," the tears came without warning, and you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, unable to keep looking at her as the sobs wracked through your body, pleading for her forgiveness "I tried my best! I tried! I-"
"Mi hijo, I'm so sorry," your mother flew into your arms, the familiarity of her love so striking that you became undone in her arms.
She cried into your neck, a sound you've never heard before "Oh mi hijo, no heavens could ever keep me away from you, never, and I and never letting you go again,"
"I love you mi hijo."
#hazbin hotel#imagines#fic#oneshot#carmilla carmine x son!reader#male reader#hazbin carmilla#hazbin carmilla carmine#tw: dark themes#angst#comfort#hazbin odette#hazbin clara#tw: mentions of harm#hugs#sending hugs anon#accidentally posted this too soon lol#tags
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Hi, sorry to ask but have you written any fanfics where Jerry is autistic? I've read your autistic!morty fic and thought that was excellent. I'm trying to find Jerry-centric fanfics where he isn't mischaracterized/demonized. (Way too many people write Jerry as transphobic which -_-ll no he isn't)
Hi, no need to apologise! I haven't written any autistic Jerry fics and I'm not sure if I know of any (if anyone else does, please leave recs on this post!). I do 100% view him as autistic though. Thank you!
Yeah honestly Jerry being portrayed as transphobic is something that bothers me as a trans guy? I headcanon him as supportive but clueless/cringe at times (he a little confused but he got the spirit).
I do have a trans Morty WIP with a scene between Morty and Jerry, although Morty is still very early on in figuring out that he might be a guy, and Jerry kind of knows something is up but assumes Morty is a lesbian rather than a trans guy and so kind of fumbles but ultimately is trying to be supportive/nice. Morty does worry about Jerry not loving him anymore if he's trans, although this is Morty's POV rather than being objective/a thing that actually happens.
I'll leave the scene below the cut in case anyone's interested. Warnings for mention of periods (and them being referred to in a gendered way), fear of transphobia from parents, accidental misgendering (and misgendering/deadnaming of Morty in the text since this is only the very start of Morty's gender questioning).
“Morti? Rick said you’re sick. Are you OK?” Jerry opens the door. Morti quickly shoves her phone under her pillow. Thankfully, her dad is as oblivious as ever as he walks over and rests a hand against her forehead.
“You don’t feel warm. Is it, uh, you know,” Jerry points down towards his own abdomen, “woman troubles?” he asks in an exaggerated stage whisper. Morti wants to die all over again. She presses her face into her pillow.
“Hey, sweetheart, i-it’s OK.” Morti feels Jerry rest a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Do you need anything?”
Morti takes a few deep breaths to calm herself and then sits up.
“N-no, Dad, I’m OK.”
“OK, honey.” Jerry wraps his arms around her and Morti can’t help but wonder if he would still hug her like this if he knew what she’d spent the past couple of hours reading about. She hugs him back tightly, suddenly unable to stop thinking that she might have to make the most of the affection while it lasts.
When Jerry pulls back, his face clouds with concern and Morti realises she’s once again been crying. She’s getting really sick of that.
“Morti, honey, what’s wrong?”
Morti feels the question writhing around in her gut until it chokes its way out of her mouth. “Dad… you’d love me no matter what, right?”
“Of course, sweetie. No matter what, you’ll always be my daughter.”
The words are meant to be a comfort, but all Morti can think about is the possibility that she’s not his daughter.
“Morti? Are you gay? It’s OK if you’re gay, you know.” As always, Jerry is well-intentioned but clueless. Truthfully, Morti’s not really put much thought into her own sexual orientation, and it’s not her main concern right now. She shakes her head, and Jerry looks doubtful but leaves it.
After a few minutes, Morti works up the courage to speak again. “Dad? Could-could you… tell me a story? Like when I was little?” she cringes as she says the words, knowing she’s far too old to be asking for something like that. To her relief, Jerry smiles.
“Sure thing, sweetie.”
He launches into an improvised story, very similar to the ones she remembers him coming up with when she was younger. She has a memory of Summer complaining Jerry’s stories were boring, always demanding more action. However, once Summer had aged out of wanting a bedtime story and left Morti as the sole listener, Jerry had settled comfortably back into his original stories, which Morti found calming and reassuring.
Her dad’s voice relaxes her and she rests her head against the pillow, feeling her eyelids begin to droop. Jerry’s hand rests on her hair and strokes it gently, just as he used to all those years ago. It’s enough to block out the negative thoughts for the time being, and Morti is so exhausted from the recent events that she soon drifts peacefully into sleep.
#rick and morty#rnm#morty smith#jerry smith#autistic jerry#autistic jerry smith#trans morty#trans morty smith#transphobia#i hope this is at least semi-coherent#the brain fog is bad rn 😅
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Well, I guess everyone except for Dick, he's just too mother hen for that.
The only comment I have on this is the amount of times I've seen the word "I," even though this is a third-person fic; it should be "One." Like, instead of "He failed. I would assume that was obvious." It would be, "He failed. One would assume that was obvious."
I'm sorry if this comes off rude, it's ment to be constructive criticism, I just really can't unseen it. I definitely recommend the fic though! I love it!!
Hope you enjoy the read, thanks for reading my word-vomiting ramble!! <(_ _*)>( ﾟ 3ﾟ)
#dc#ao3#tim drake#fanfic#i need more fics like this#funny#damian wayne#tim and damian#tim and jason#robin damian#robin tim drake#metahuman#meta tim drake#this is like ch.7 btw#i can't unsee it#im srry#constructive criticism
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Favourite Underrated Ship? Simple answer:
Every single Pete rarepair!
-> PorschePete? Iconic! Brilliant! Phenomenal! Most people love "best friends who kiss", I love "secret third thing". However one enjoys them, though, they're delicious to consume😌
(You might think it's not an underrated ship, but I'd like to inform you that it has, in fact, less than 100 fics on Ao3, so it very much is in my book. I'm happy to have contributed to it by posting two of them, but I'd love it if there were more. Hopefully, I'll get inspired anew one day.)
-> KinnPete? Oh please, the power dynamics make me giggle like a 10 year old girl playing with Barbie dolls. Such glorious toxicity, such perfect ways Kinn could use and abuse Pete to his benefit, either with or without knowing he's doing it. You can do so much with them, either pre, during or post canon and I get so excited thinking about it.
(This one has less than 50(!) fics posted, so I'm super thankful to the few authors who have gifted me some amazing works. Sharing my personal favourite because it deserves to be cherished 🥹)
-> ArmPete? Do I even need to sell this one? It can do fluff, it can do angst, it can do smut, it can do it all. My personal favourite flavour of it is Arm having unrequited feelings for Pete because it's just so deliciously angsty 😇 I love me some pain, I can't help it.
(This one doesn't have any fics to its name, besides one in Chinese. I'm devastated. I did personally have an idea for a multi-chaptered fic with 3k words already written, but if I manage to focus on it properly one day, it'll end up being a simple one-shot.)
-> KimPete? Oh, you mean the ship I got so obsessed over I wrote 25k words of them platonically bonding, while having Kim think to himself more than once how pretty Pete is? You mean the ship that shares so many similarities with VegasPete, while still having its own identity based on the differences between Kim and Vegas? You mean the love of my life?
(Again, fics for this one are almost non-existent, which is a shame, but understandable. One day, I'll manage to enrich the tag. One day.)
-> TankhunPete? Take KinnPete's fucked up power imbalance and twist it in a more peculiar direction. What you get is this ship, which makes me so uncomfortable but so, so intrigued.
(Incredibly underrated with how few fics it has, but a special thanks to this one for altering my brain chemistry when I first read it.)
-> BigPete? Rivals who might engage in hate sex from time to time? Pals who share the same fate and understand it and bond over it? Pick your poison and roll with it, because it's delicious either way. I'm personally team "They hate each other" because it's more fun that way 😉
(Almost nothing here again, which is a shame, but again understandable. I had forgotten they shared 2 lines of dialogue together in the show, I deadass thought they never talked to each other, which was great for me lol. Here's one fic written by the same person who wrote the KinnPete one, in case you'd like something cool to read.)
-> TayPete? This one's for pure aesthetic reasons because have you seen Tay, have you seen Tay at the auction, have you imagined Pete and Tay fucking at the auction, because I surely have 🙂 It's such a gorgeous image, I lose focus for a hot minute when it comes to me.
(This one's tricky, because most people write Vegas/Pete/Tay, which is a glorious choice and I support it, and my talented friend is writing a very good VPT fic, but I'd love it if there were more fics that focus on these two only. They're too powerful, I can't get enough.)
I think those are all the ones I'm personally obsessed with. All I have to say is, Pete deserves all the beautiful men and what they'd like to do with him ❤️
#kpanniversary2024#underrated ships#I have *opinions* about this#this is just a summary#give Pete all the gorgeous men pls#he deserves it#*I* deserve it#do let me know if I've forgotten any ship#it's important to remember them all#for science#pete saengtham#kinnporsche the series
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Got a bit of a different bookbinding post today. @renegadeguild got an ask from a new binder saying they were intimidated by everyone's gorgeous binds (me too, actually, some of you guys are scary good), and so they've asked people to share their first binds. And I realized I'd never even taken photos of my first one, so here it is, warts and all:
This is E.M. Forster's The Machine Stops, a public domain scifi short story that you can read for free at the link. The first reason I chose it was that it's an interesting story, and I'd bought a print-on-demand copy a few years previously that was just terrible. Baffling cover choices, basic errors in the typeset (like quotes that face the wrong way), weird size that didn't fit on my shelf; just not a good product. I couldn't do it with more indifference than the PoD people. The second reason was that I was too intimidated by the thought of asking a fic writer if I could bind their story and then producing something with a thousand sloppy beginner mistakes, and then they'd want to see photos and I'd have to show them this and it would have been mortifying, but Forster has been dead since 1970 so I could not disappoint him. It was very freeing. I bound it in 2021 as an experiment, to see if I liked this hobby enough to stick to it. The cover is green cardstock and faux leather scrapbook paper that I bought at... probably Hobby Lobby. I added the title later, as a practice project when I first got my Cricut; for the first two years of its existence it had a blank cover.
There are more photos under the cut!
In this photo we can see:
--Too much glue when attaching the leather-print paper, so it oozed out onto the cover.
--Cricut font too thin and too much heat/too long of a press, so the letters have gaps and the glue also oozed out here. It's a continuing theme with this bind.
--I tried to use a bone folder to give it a sharper hinge crease and accidentally pressed too hard and tore a hole in the paper; you can see this in the little white vertical line near the top of the hinge
The fore edge is not square. I actually don't remember why this happened. I may have eyeballed the board position when I made the case, or the paper may have slipped while the glue was wet, or I cut it crooked and didn't notice till later. Either way it's bad enough that the book doesn't stand on its own. There was a crooked man/who walked a crooked mile/and found a crooked sixpence/against a crooked stile./He bought a crooked cat/which caught a crooked mouse/and they all loved together in a little crooked house, and I bet they read this little crooked book from their little crooked library.
Top view, you can see that the case is too big and the text block doesn't sit straight in it. It has no endbands or bookmark, and it's hard to see in this photo but there's glue on the top of it, at the spine. This still happens to me but I know how to trim books now so this bit gets cut off. You can also see that the scrapbook paper has some cracks where its white core is visible. This is why I do cloth or actual faux leather on the spines now. Endpaper shows uneven trim (did I not use a ruler for this??), too much glue causing major seepage, and it doesn't sit evenly in the case. I'm not sure if this is because of the case itself being crooked, a badly-trimmed endpaper, or if the text block is also crooked. Or it may be a combination of all these factors. Unclear.
Typeset photos! Here we see:
--Title page has a page number on it. This is a pet peeve of mine and I fixed it after this book.
--There is no half title, summary, or metadata. All my later binds have these things.
--It's typeset in Times New Roman. Unlike many I don't actually hate this font but reading it reminds me of being in high school so this is the only book I used it for. Baskerville is my beloved now. The font is also much bigger than it should be. It's not huge but it's like a large print book so it feels weird for me to read it.
--Lol what are margins
--Lol what are page headers
--Actually I think I left the headers out so it wouldn't have a header on the first page of each chapter, because I knew about page breaks but not section breaks at this time.
--It's on regular-ass lightweight printer paper. There's nothing wrong with this but I switched to heavier weight paper shortly after to help with bleed-through and the light stuff feels so flimsy now.
--I didn't understand how Word's book fold worked at this time, so when I had to set the sheets per booklet and it had an option for 4, I chose that thinking it would give me 4 sheets of paper (16 numbered pages) per sig. It did not do this. It gave me 4 numbered pages per sig. So every signature is 1 sheet of paper. Every page is its own signature. I am still mad about this but it sure drove home how the setting works and also how to make kettle stitches since you make one after every sig. A book of 48 pages has 12 signatures which is just ludicrous.
--There's no photo of this but it has a piece of printer paper on the spine because I didn't have mull. I did use PVA though. Lots and lots of PVA.
--It's stitched with regular sewing thread, which means it doesn't have much swell for a book with that many sigs, but it's less sturdy and more likely to tear the paper.
And that's that! It probably sounds a bit like I was tearing it to shreds but I actually love this book quite a lot. I learned so many things that I applied to my next binds, it was an invaluable experience. It let me fall in love with the hobby so I could make the awesome things I make now. I've got those all posted on my main blog under the tag #snek makes books, or you can see them all on my side blog @papersnakepress. For a first book it's functional and readable, and still better than the PoD copy I had before. I've been thinking of doing a rebind as a sort of progress gauge, actually. Maybe next year.
#bookbinding#snek makes books#the machine stops#it's not winning any beauty contests#or technical skill contests either#but it's mine and i love it#first bind
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i like you, here are my favorite awesome and underrated outer wilds fic + comic recommendations in no particular order
interpolation by @tippertot . its got base game spoilers, possibly dlc spoilers? unfinished but it's currently being updated wooooo!!! it's very interesting and i dont exactly understand whats going on but i really like it and am SO excited to see where it goes. keep in mind i've only read up to chapter 9 so idk what comes in the other chapters. but its so so so good, i need to make fanart for it sometime wahh. (and of course. also finish catching lol.)
hearth's shadow by @spitzyyyy . got dlc and base game spoilers - only 2 chapters out but they're decently long(and very angsty) and it was last updated in january and im pretty sure spitzle is still writing other fics so even if they drop this one, im sure they've got plenty of other, very good ones too. this is just the only one that i've read from him (YET) it's very sad though so like. brace yourself. BUT CHAPTER 2 IS ALSO CUTE THOUGH SO ITS FINE
and uh also anything by @crimsonquill-086 is very good ::) i havent finished all their stuff yet but i think(so far) on my own terms is my fave.
also i read like one chapter of the rule of quantum certainty by TimeturnerJay(i don't *think* they have a tumblr? not sure) and i've been meaning to return to it so im gonna read it after i finish this post so there's also that!! chapter one was gut wrenching i needed a break lol /pos
then i cannot recommend elwensa's comics enough. she makes so many and they're all very good, some are sad and some are cute, and some have headcanons that i basically accept as canon now for literally no reason.
here's a whole timeline i found of a bunch of her comics that i *believe* is up to date -https://www.reddit.com/r/outerwilds/comments/18uuy7z/elwensa_ow_comics_grand_timeline/
she's also got an entire au called the legend of outer wilds that's basically just outer wilds but its zelda inspired and it's got a ton of cool concepts so like. its very good it has its own carrd check it out - https://tloow.carrd.co/
and if we're talking comics i of course can't just like, not mention @cobaltbluesu 's "thrill chasing." pretty sure he only recently posted chapter one so im not sure how much there will be in the future but definitely go check that out, their art is so so cool(and a big inspiration for me.)
feel free to reblog with any other recommendations there are so many but if you find something good please tell me
#outer wilds#outer wilds spoilers#outer wilds fanart#echoes of the eye#echoes of the eye spoilers#outer wilds fic#outerwilds#outer wilds hatchling#outer wilds protagonist#outer wilds nomai
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