#i still haven't technically finished it and it's been almost two months since i even booted it up

[confused-pyramid]

Coming Up For Air | s1

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, death of a spouse, slow slow slow burn, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 1x01, 1x06, 1x07, 1x08, 1x15, 1x16, and 1x22

a/n: I started rewatching Criminal Minds from the beginning, and this is what came out of it heh. This is the first part in a little series I'm starting that follows Hotch and his childhood best friend in the BAU, beginning with the pilot. If all goes well, this will continue through the rest of the show, with ~1 part per season :) Title is from Coming up for air by Signals in Smoke

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You haven't used your oven in over a year. It's not that you don't like cooking - because you do - you just haven't had the time. If you could, you would blame it on the extra hours you have had to put in after starting at the BAU, but that wouldn't be fair. Your transfer to the unit was the only thing that got you through his death at all.

After your husband was shot and killed in action while tailing a kingpin of one of the New York mobs, you couldn't bear to be in this house at all. You had gone back home to stay with your father for a couple of months, but eventually you had to get back to your real life. With a month remaining on your bureau-mandated leave, you returned to the home you had shared, before one of the lower-level mob soldiers misfired -

You didn't let yourself think about it for almost a year, but time heals all wounds. The poets were right. At least you hope they are.

Even back at home, you still couldn't bear to be there alone, other than when you were sleeping. That's why your peloton was gathering dust and your kitchen went untouched, until just now.

So, of course, the call from the office comes when you're making dinner. It takes five minutes to change into slacks and a button-up, and two more to toss your half-cooked vegetables in the trash, before driving down to headquarters.

A fourth girl has been taken in Seattle, and the local PD only now decided to invite your team. You know the BAU isn't well-liked by the other departments, but that doesn't mean you aren't effective.

When you enter the building, you rush through the I.D. check and jog over to the lecture hall, where Morgan and Reid are standing outside of a neighboring office like children waiting for their father to come and get them.

Shooting them both a thin-lipped smile, you step inside just as they finish discussing the unsub's pattern.

"They want you back in the saddle," Hotch says to the man beside him after greeting you with a nod.

Your eyes are so immediately drawn to Hotch that it takes you a moment to realize that you recognize the man standing next to him. You haven't seen him since the day you were assigned to the BAU, mostly because you were technically transferred to this unit because of his extended leave.

What was supposed to be one month became six, before Hotch informed you that your temporary placement would be permanent, if you were willing to stay in Virginia.

It was a no-brainer.

You turn your gaze to Jason Gideon as everyone in the room stares at him expectantly. He looks self-assured, but you're sure the confidence is a front. "They sure they want me?"

"The order came from the director," Hotch says simply.

"Well," Gideon states, "we'd better get started, then."

Hotch glances over at you as everyone files out of the room and you raise your eyebrows momentarily, a quick check-in between the two of you. He nods imperceptibly and it's enough for now. He didn't tell you Gideon was coming back today, but now isn't the time to give him hell for that.

***

Hotch is the last to board the plane, and he takes his usual seat beside you, this time in the aisle, a few rows away from the rest of the team.

"I was going to tell you," he says as soon as you close the case file in your hands. "The section chief wants me to evaluate him to see if he's ready to return to the team."

"That's a lot of pressure." They have to know that Gideon will be able to smell him out within the day. "You sure it won't get in the way?"

Hotch makes that face you hate, the one that says he knows you're deflecting. "I was going to tell you."

It doesn't take much for you to forgive him. It helps that you trust him completely, especially after everything he has done for you.

"Still," you smile, bumping his shoulder with yours, "it would have been nice to know about the sudden change to my job security."

You're mostly joking, but his frown is genuine. "Don't be silly. You'll always have a place on this team."

He takes everything so seriously these days. You suppose it's only fair, given the files he has to sort through on a daily basis. Picking which case deserves the team's attention the most.

But he wasn't always like this. You're the newest member of the team, but you've known Hotch longer than any of them.

You still remember the first time you met him, at eight years old. He was your first real friend at school, and you became inseparable easily. Your shared love for The Beatles and Law and Order made you fast friends, and as you grew older, your interests shifted in tandem.

Sometimes when you look at him, you still see that little boy who knew too much, but still managed to always make you laugh.

***

The team disperses soon after you land in Seattle. You've never had to come up with a profile in one afternoon, but it's also been a long time since your ticking clock to find the victim was just over a day.

When Gideon and Morgan head to the latest crime scene, you join Hotch and Reid to interview the victim's brother. The moment the three of you step into his house, his dog, Sandy, starts barking up a storm.

"It's what we call the Reid effect," Hotch smiles, walking over to pet her. "Happens with children, too."

You can't help but smile as well, peering over at Spencer, who looks about as uncomfortable as he usually does.

It doesn't escape your notice that the brother looks looser now. Hotch has a way with people that traces back to his childhood self. He was always wiser than his years, something you chalk up to his need to grow up faster than he should have, but his paternal instinct comes from practically raising his brother, Sean, after his dad's untimely death.

The casual interview reveals enough about the victimology that when you head back to the station, Gideon calls the officers in to explain the profile.

You can feel Morgan's agitation wafting off of him as he watches Gideon state his assumptions with startling clarity and confidence. Hotch, on the other hand, looks contemplative, which reminds you that he's been tasked with the returning agent's evaluation.

He can see your furtive glances in his direction, even as you try to remain secretive about your interest in his demeanor. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling as he thinks about how lucky you are that you went into profiling and not covert operations.

You have never been especially good at keeping your own thoughts or intentions to yourself around him. While some would call that a weakness in this field, he sees it as your greatest strength, because it clearly shows how much he can trust you.

As a kid, you were outspoken about every idea you had, and you used your strength and willpower to look out for him when he needed it. It took him a long time to admit how much he used to need you (maybe too long), but you always knew.

***

Gideon's profile leads to the arrest of Richard Slessman and Tim Vogel, and Elle manages to save the last girl while she's still alive. You catch your breath for the first time in 36 hours as you stand with Hotch in the shipyard, watching the paramedics and local police clear the scene.

"What are you going to tell them?" you ask under your breath as his gaze turns to Gideon, who is getting patched up in the back of an ambulance.

He had goaded the unsub into shooting him instead of the girl, but your mind can't seem to focus on the silver lining.

Hotch sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, as though to hold his coat closed against the breeze. "They want to know if he's fit to be a field agent again."

Normally, you would give him shit for using that tactic. Avoiding a question by providing more information. This time, you know he's just thinking out loud.

"What would you say?" Hotch asks as Morgan walks over and sits on a barrel next to you.

"Gideon saved her life," Derek shrugs, his eyes flashing to you for a moment. "That's good enough for me."

Hotch seems to ponder this for a second. "Do you know what Gideon means in Hebrew?"

"Mighty warrior," Reid interjects, popping in to the conversation with the subtlety of a tiger.

You're confused at first, but then you remember the baby names book that was sitting in Hotch's living room the last time you visited him. "You cannot let Haley name your child Gideon."

Hotch laughs suddenly, and you can tell you surprised it out of him. Your chest warms comfortably as he smiles, his cheeks flushing softly in the chill air.

He looks over at Gideon again, deciding in real time that he's going to recommend him to come back to the team. He would never admit it to you or anyone, but he knows that if your position on the team was in jeopardy from Gideon's return, he wouldn't have been able to complete his evaluation fairly.

It was Hotch who recommended you for the open position after he was promoted into Gideon's role as unit chief. You deserved the spot, of course, but Jeff's death had still been fresh and he knew better than most how much the job can take one's mind off of the other aspects of their life.

While Hotch watches Gideon, you watch him. You can tell from the look on his face that it's a done deal. Jason's coming back to the team. It will be a change of pace for everyone, but that doesn't mean it won't be good.

Having joined the team right after the bombing, you saw exactly how Gideon changed after getting the profile wrong, but so did everyone else. What people didn't talk about was how Aaron changed too. Rising into the rank. Growing to fill the hole that Gideon left in the unit, but somehow also shrinking into himself at the same time, because that's what this job does to you...it takes and it takes and it takes until you have nothing left to give.

But sometimes that's what you need: to give something up so you know you aren't losing everything.

***

Gideon settles into the team faster than you anticipated, and soon it's almost like he never left. Even though you can see the vein on Morgan's neck pulsate every time he hijacks a profile, you can't help but appreciate the support he gives to Spencer and Elle, both of whom are becoming incredible profilers before your very eyes.

That's also why you find yourself a little worried when Hotch tells you that Reid failed his weapons recertification.

"I thought you said you were helping him practice," you say as the two of you walk past security and toward the bullpen.

"I was," he emphasizes, before correcting himself, "I did. I'm sure he was just nervous."

You nod, pushing open the doors and spotting Reid sitting quietly at his desk. "He can test again in two weeks. He'll be fine."

When Morgan hands him a whistle with a quippy joke, you sigh into your coffee tumbler, but don't bother stepping in. He's being childish, but if you try to intervene, it'll just embarrass Spencer more.

"Okay," JJ starts, "Franklin Park, Des Plaines. Yesterday afternoon."

She dives into the case, but you have already read the file (and you know Reid has too) so you scoot your chair over to his desk and lean forward so only he can hear you. "I failed my first weapons certification at the bureau too."

Spencer looks up immediately, his face colored with surprise. "Really? You're one of the best shots I know."

You smile with a shrug. "The tests aren't real life. When it comes down to it, I get the job done. Just like you will."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but then his lips curve up into a small smile. You both turn your attention back to the front just as JJ finishes explaining the case details.

"Wheels up in 30."

The flight to Illinois is filled with heated discussions about the bureau's fruitless history of trying to profile long distance serial killers.

"L. D. S. K.s are so rare, we haven't been able to build a standard profile," Hotch explains as the jet reaches cruising altitude.

Gideon chimes in immediately. "Here's what we do know: they're always male, and they frequently have law enforcement or military experience, and they always contact the police or the media."

Elle looks confused and you echo her sentiment as you lean your hip against her armrest. "To take credit or relive the experience?"

"Both," he says simply. "All serial killers attempt to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. Some use souvenirs taken from the victims, and others return to the dump site to interact with the body. Both modes require contact with the victim, contact which, by definition, long distance serial killers don't have."

"Our unsub hasn't contacted anybody," you point out. "What do we do until then?"

"Sometimes it's not what the unsub does that reveals the profile. Sometimes it is what they do not do."

Reid glances up from the file in his lap, and you notice that he looks at Gideon first. "He doesn't kill his victims."

"Underkill's a unique signature," Hotch ponders, standing up and walking along the cabin. He only paces when he's deep in thought. "The question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally just to wound them, or is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target?"

The team is silent as you take in this new analysis. You're not surprised when Gideon is the first to speak up. "Specifically, does the unsub lack the skill to make the head shot, or simply the will to take it?"

When the plane lands, you check out the last crime scene before spending the day talking to the local police and the victims' surgeons at the nearby hospital.

That night, when you check into your hotel room, the click of the door lock closing behind you is a welcome relief from the tension of the day. Many of the Des Plaines police officers were unhappy with the team's initial assessment, because it heavily implied that the unsub may have been a law enforcement official himself.

You wash your face and change into a tee shirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, before climbing into bed and opening the case file back up again. The rest of the team has also gone to their own rooms, but you can't help but wish you had another set of eyes looking at this with you.

As though reading your mind, a knock thuds on your door and you stand up quickly, in case it's an emergency. When you check the peephole, you see Hotch standing way too close to the door.

Unlocking it slowly so you don't startle him, you open the door to find him in still in a full suit.

"Is there a problem?" you ask immediately. "Do I need to get dressed?"

He shakes his head, glancing around the hallway so quickly that you almost miss it. "I was just looking over the profile and I wanted your opinion on some thoughts I had."

The corner of your mouth twitches and you open the door further to let him in. He doesn't miss a beat as he takes a seat on the armchair in front of your bed and flips open his notepad.

"I was thinking about the bullet we recovered on the scene," he says slowly, like he's thinking through every word he's saying.

You nod, sitting on top of the bed covers and crossing your legs under you. "Garcia called after you left the station. The bullet was a .223 fired from the M-4 variant of the M-16."

"That means he's military," Hotch says, reaching his hand out without taking his eyes off his notepad. You close the case file you had laid out and hand it to him. "M-4 is a shorter barrel than the M-16, so it's less accurate and a lot harder to fire, especially at these distances."

"This level of skill indicates specialized training. That means..."

"It means the underkill was on purpose," Hotch says, finishing your thought. "What is he trying to prove?"

You purse your lips as he sits up in the chair to give himself room to remove his jacket. His pinstriped button-down is slightly crinkled under his arms, but you can tell it was freshly ironed this morning.

"Maybe he's in a fast-paced occupation," you suggest, "which would fit with the profile that he has a big ego."

"Then we're back to law enforcement."

You lean forward, your eyes following his hands as they fidget with his cuffs and undo the buttons, one at a time. You've always been attune to every one of his movements, but maybe it's just because you've spent so much time around him.

"Hotch," you whisper-yell, snagging his attention from your case file, which he tosses back to you.

He hums and you take that as an invitation to continue speaking. "Be careful tomorrow, when you're giving the profile."

One of his eyebrows lifts and you can tell he's holding back a smile. "It's just in front of the Des Planes PD. You'll be there too."

"It's not that," you sigh, shaking your head. "Everything about this profile points to the shooter being either current or former law enforcement. I'd be surprised if they didn't take it personally."

His eyes flit up to yours, his brow furrowing. "I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can, Hotch," you say with a breathy laugh. "Doesn't mean I don't still look out for you."

He pauses and it's like his whole body takes a beat. "I know."

***

You're talking to Dr. Landman with Derek, Elle, and Jason the next day when a gunshot rings out through the hospital. Last you checked, Hotch and Reid were in the E.R., but you haven't heard from them since you arrived.

"It's Phillip Dowd," a nurse informs you when you meet with local police outside the closed E.R. door.

After a quick call to Penelope, the profile becomes clear.

"He joined the army at 18," Gideon recites, pacing around the room in a vaguely reminiscent manner, "went to ranger school, did 6 years before being dishonorably discharged in '95 for conduct unbecoming. Obviously lied about it, joined the Arlington P. D."

"You were right," the police captain sighs. "He was a cop."

His hopeless tone is disheartening, and you find yourself upset for not the first time that your team was correct in their assessment.

After the initial commotion, the E.R. is silent except for a few muffled voices. You can't hear what's being said, but the lack of gunshots or loud noises is all that's keeping you from falling apart.

"It'll be okay," you hear whispered from next to you. You turn to see Derek, who presses his shoulder to yours briefly. "Hotch will know what to do."

You know there's nothing you can do from out here, especially with how precarious the situation inside is, but doing nothing has never been your strong suit.

"I know," you tell him, echoing your thoughts. "I just wish we could help."

Derek cocks his head at the S.W.A.T. team readying themselves to break the door down. "We can help. We need to give Hotch and the kid time to wear Dowd down."

His tone is light and you feel yourself laugh, ignoring the thickness that swells in your throat. "That shouldn't take long."

Derek bumps your arm again in a silent extension of comfort, and you mouth a silent thank you.

You can feel Gideon losing patience as he reasons with the captain, but he eventually buys them three minutes to do what they can. When the final five second countdown starts, you unconsciously hold your breath, only to be released when Hotch's voice calls through the door.

"Hold your fire!"

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you squeeze Derek's arm before rushing forward. Hotch stumbles past you with a murmur that sounds obscurely like "help Reid", so you push your way through the throng of civilians moving to escape until you see him.

"Spencer," you gasp, crouching down to help him into a standing position. You would never admit it to him, but ever since he joined the team, he's been something of a little brother to you. "What happened in here? Are you okay?"

"You were right," he says with a surprising steadiness to his voice. "I got the job done."

You don't ask what he means, knowing that Hotch will fill you in when the time is right. Instead, you decide not to fight the vaguely maternal urge rising within you and you pull him into a tight hug. It's more of a quick squeeze, because you don't want to push past his physical boundaries, but he doesn't complain, instead looking over at you with a small smile that's more than enough for now.

***

You find Hotch where the departed ambulance that patched Reid up was parked. All of the hustle and bustle of the paramedics and local police officers and bureau agents comes to a standstill as you walk over to where he's sitting on the edge of the curb.

"I heard what happened," you say as a way to announce your presence. "Can I sit?"

He nods without looking up, and you crouch down next to him, settling on the curb with your shoulder pressed to his. You can feel the tension in his muscles as he grips the sidewalk, his palms digging into the concrete like he could break through if he pressed hard enough. "Reid.."

"..is fine," you whisper, nudging him so he looks up to where Spencer and Jason are chattering excitedly. "He's more proud than anything."

He doesn't say anything, so you bump your knee against his. "I guess all of the physical training classes you made him take at the academy paid off."

He knows you know exactly what is running through his mind, so he doesn't bother trying to articulate it. Instead, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and looks over at you. "Do you remember that self-defense class we took before law school?"

You're not expecting this question, and you almost laugh. "You mean the singular self-defense class you dragged me to before dawn in the summer before we started at Georgetown?"

He levels you with a look that you would think is serious if you didn't know him so well. "You don't regret it, though."

"No," you smile, your eyes blurring with emotion. That's where you met Jeff. "I don't."

He was your instructor that day. He only taught that class twice a week, between lectures at Georgetown Law, and it doesn't escape your mind that you so easily could've missed him. One day earlier or later and you never would've met him, never would've been his girlfriend, or his wife, or his widow.

Hotch remembers meeting him that day too. He had to literally come to your apartment and drag you out of bed to make the seven AM class that he had signed you both up for, and you had been grumpy the whole drive over.

There wasn't much, other than coffee, that could get you alert before eight in the morning, but the moment you walked into that gym, it was like you were wide awake. He spent the rest of the class trying not to look as the man he would later come to know as Agent Adler kept coming over to give you extra pointers, and he pretended that the coil of ice slithering up his spine was there just because he was watching out for you.

When he found out the two of you had started dating, he continued to pretend the nausea rising in his stomach was from the day-old sandwich he had had for lunch, because it wasn't fair. Especially since he was with Haley, and he was happier than he had ever been, even if the new law school course load was making it harder to see her as often as he wanted to.

But eventually, your happiness with him overpowered every protective urge he felt, and he realized that even if there was a feeling in his gut that he didn't recognize when he saw you two together, Jeff was perfectly suited for you.

***

"He's so gorgeous!" JJ coos, her hands twitching at her sides like she's trying not to reach forward and take the baby out of Haley's hands.

She brought Jack, their newborn son, in to work today to show the team, and Hotch looks prouder than you've ever seen him. "Thank you."

"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive."

"Reid!" you chastise, swatting at him. He dodges your hands without even looking.

"Look at his widdy biddy nose," Garcia squeals, before turning to Morgan with an inquisitive look. "Don't you want one of these?"

He just laughs as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "Mm, I'll stick to practicing."

"Congratulations," Elle chimes in before returning to Gideon's side to continue discussing the new case that came in. She's always on top of things, and it's something you respect greatly about her.

"Thanks," Hotch smiles, his gaze returning to Jack after looking away for only a moment. Jack is like a siren, the way each of his little sounds or movements holds Hotch's attention so steadily. He's the most focused of all of you, but you've still never seen him this enamored. "She's amazing. I'm a little terrified."

"You're glowing," you tell Haley as the rest of the team heads to the briefing room. "How is it that you had a baby just a few weeks ago?"

"You're sweet," she smiles, before tilting her head forward. "Do you want to hold him? You're practically his aunt."

You gasp quietly, so as not to wake little Jack. "That is a title I will carry proudly. And yes, I would love to hold him."

Haley hands him to you slowly, and you make sure to support his head carefully as you cup your arms around him. He looks so much like Haley that you almost make a joke about Hotch's genes not even putting up a fight, but that nose...that nose has Hotch written all over it.

When you glance back to where the team left from, you see him turn back at the same moment and offer you an encouraging smile.

"How are you holding up?" you ask Haley, barely able to focus on your surroundings with a newborn in your arms. Maybe there is something to the siren thing.

"Jack's been incredible. He barely cries, it's kind of a godsend...but I do wish Aaron could take time off with me."

You give her what you hope is your most comforting smile. "We've been super swamped with cases here, but in all my years working with him, I have never seen him so eager to leave every night."

She laughs, a pretty sound you remember from your youth. "I know. I feel so unfair when I complain about these things, but I appreciate you humoring me."

"Not at all," you assure her, glancing back down at Jack, who is mid-yawn. "I understand completely. If I had one of these little guys, I wouldn't be able to think about anything else."

You hear her breath catch and you open your mouth to reassure her that it's fine, but she is already reaching forward to squeeze your arm. "You and Jeff would have made amazing parents."

When you both joined the bureau, you were so busy with work that kids weren't on your mind at all. It wasn't until you got settled at the BAU, and Jeff found his place with organized crime, that you even started talking about it.

You want kids, don't you?

Only a few. Maybe four or five. Yeah, five's a good number.

"I should get back to the team," you say softly, blinking away the memories.

Haley sees your face and she smiles sadly as she takes Jack back from your arms. "I'll see you soon. Tell him I'm heading home, will you?"

You nod and watch the elevator doors close in front of her, before joining the team.

***

"I can't believe you went bar hopping without me," Derek shakes his head, feigning offense as he leans so far back in his chair you're afraid it may tip over.

"I think hopping is kind of a strong word," you say, glancing over at Elle, who is perched on the edge of your desk. "We only had one bar in mind, but it closed earlier than we thought, so we went somewhere else after."

"This was a much needed girl's night," Elle grins, patting Morgan on the shoulder as he continues to pout. "We'll invite you next time."

"How was your weekend, Dr. Reid?" you ask, turning around to face him.

Spencer doesn't look up from his crossword.

You say his name again, recalling the attention of Derek and Elle, who had started talking about some trip they've been planning for what feels like months.

When he still doesn't look up, you pick up one of the BAU-provided pens on your desk and chuck it at him, just hard enough to bridge the gap between your desks, but not so hard that it hurts on impact.

"Ow!" Spencer yelps anyway, glancing up with a look that's somewhere between confusion and indignation. He picks the pen up off the ground and turns it over to see the tiny insignia on the cap. "This is FBI property."

"How was your weekend, Spencer?" you ask again, ignoring him. "Didn't you say you had some fun stuff planned?"

"I did," he lights up, instantly forgetting about the pen incident. "My local movie theater was showing reruns of the first season of the original Star Trek, so I got to experience it on the big screen."

Derek laughs and walks back over to his desk next to yours. "We have very different definitions of fun weekend plans, kid."

You're about to tell Derek that no one wants to hear what his idea of fun is when the office door upstairs flies open and Hotch and Gideon walk out.

Reid hands you back your pen, and Derek sits up in his chair so fast it's almost comical.

"We have another case," Hotch announces before coming to a stop.

Gideon takes it away. "Our unsub is male, intelligent, organized and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who's been killing for a long time."

"Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore indicating some tie to him."

Hotch turns to you. "You, Elle, and Reid stay on Condore's background with Garcia. The rest of us will head to the crime scene."

You nod before standing up. "Let's go, kids."

Penelope's lair is just as eccentric as you remember it.

"Take a seat," she instructs before logging into her computer and opening up her criminal history database. "Just don't get too comfortable."

Your lips quirk up as Elle flashes her eyes at you, and you nod your head at the empty chair on Garcia's opposite side. Reid is already sitting on a desk chair by the back, spinning in aimless circles as he rattles off a list of markers to search for.

After a minute, Penelope stops typing. "Credit card receipts show Freddy loved crab cakes, preferred light beer and used to spend his Thursday nights with a woman in Fells Point."

You pick up a stress toy shaped like a tomato from one of her shelves and bounce it in your palm, just for something to occupy your hands.

"What about his associates?" Elle asks, grabbing a pen with a pom-pom on the end and poking it at Spencer's knee.

"Most of them have criminal records."

Elle glances up. "That much I guessed."

Penelope frowns, and looks pointedly at the pen in her hand.

"She's holding the tomato!" Elle complains, throwing a finger at you.

You lift up your hands in surrender, dropping the stress toy. "Thanks a lot, Greenaway."

"Anyway," Reid interrupts, to everyone's surprise, "One of these guys is particularly interesting. Pull up James Baker's rap sheet."

Penelope turns back to her computer as Spencer reads over her shoulder. "He spent time in juvenile detention for attempted murder, was released at age 21, and then subsequently arrested for, and this is in order, armed robbery, petty theft, burglary, narcotics sales, and rapе."

"What's so interesting about that?"

"When it comes to psychological behavior, anything is possible but this criminal history? It just isn't probable."

Elle nods in agreement. "I mean, as a minor, he began with attempted murder and then devolved into pettier crimes?"

"It's the criminal history of a fractured schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder," you sigh. "It just does not make sense."

***

Hotch calls you into his office when he and Morgan return from Baker's address. You can tell something is off before you even step through the door, so you shut it behind you and take a seat in front of his desk.

"What's going on?" you ask, your eyes glancing over his face to see if his micro-expressions can give you a hint. "What's wrong?"

He looks up with a sigh, his hands clasped on his desk. "Baker's place was an artificial dwelling, and the weapon we recovered on the scene was standard law enforcement issue."

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what he's trying to say - a few seconds longer than usual - and your breath stutters in your throat. "He was undercover?"

"That's what it looks like," Hotch agrees. "I wanted to inform you before telling the rest of the team."

You nod, pressing your eyes closed for a beat.

He missed his pick-up, Mrs. Adler.

We'll call you as soon as we know more.

The memories start to flood back in and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter before opening them. Hotch looks blurry for a moment until your eyes adjust to the light again.

"Does organized crime know where he is?" you ask, desperately needing to fill the silence.

He looks down at the case file. "We assume so, but it's not like they would tell us. They weren't too happy that we were taking on this case at all, and now we know why."

"Maybe they'll talk to me," you suggest, even though the idea of talking to Josh Cramer makes you taste bile. You haven't seen him since a month after the funeral. It's not for his lack of trying, you just couldn't stomach looking at any of them after what happened. One missed call turned to ten and eventually they stopped trying.

There's a piercing pain behind your eyes and you squeeze them shut for a momentary relief. "It was only supposed to be three months."

Hotch's brow furrows and you don't look up at him just yet. You can already picture his expression, the anguish you know he feels for you whenever you bring up Jeff.

"It was a three month operation," you continue, knowing you won't be able to discuss it later if you stop talking now. "That's all we signed up for. Three months away from me and then he was on leave for the rest of the year, so that we could focus on us again. Maybe even start a family."

Your voice cracks on the last word and you tilt your head down to hide your face. He hates it when you cry, but that's not fair. He knows how important it is to get your emotions out, so they don't pile up inside of you, but if he had his way, you would never have had a reason to cry in the first place.

"I hadn't seen him in over a month when he was..."

He can hear the tightness in your voice and he resists the overwhelming urge to reach his hand out and take yours. You're sitting a foot back from the desk, and it's not he could reach you from here anyway, but his fingers still ache.

"I don't want to blame them, Aaron," you sigh. Your words sound watery, and he pulls a handkerchief out of his inside jacket pocket and hands it to you. He's almost surprised when you accept the gesture, pressing the cloth square under your eyes to catch the tears leaking out. You were so self-reliant as a kid, never wanting or needing anyone else's help. "I don't want to blame them, but I do. I can't help it, I just do."

Someone else would have consoled you. They would have assured you that feeling this way was natural, and that no one could blame you for feeling what you do, but that isn't who you two are. "Jeff wouldn't."

His name is like a dagger to your heart. You practically wince as Hotch digs further. "That team was his family, just like we are yours. He wouldn't blame them, not for this. Not for something he chose."

Something he chose. This is why you don't let yourself remember that day. This is why you kept that day - the day you got that horrible call - locked up inside your brain, where not even you could reach it. Because if you let yourself think about it and remember, then you will remember that it wasn't really Cramer or his unit or the bureau that you blamed. It was him.

For choosing to miss his pick-up. For choosing to go undercover. For choosing to join organized crime.

You take a deep breath and re-adjust yourself in the uncomfortable chair Hotch refuses to replace, even though it's literally splitting at the seams. Something about your tax dollars hard at work. "What are you going to do about Baker?"

He lets you change the subject. "We have to contact Agent Cramer before-

"What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Sorry?" Hotch frowns, both of you standing up immediately.

Cramer doesn't take his eyes off Hotch as he seethes with anger. "I told you, this is my case! You ran my agent through IBIS?"

"Because I wanted to know who he worked for and now that I do, I'd like to talk to him."

"You don't have him?"

You can hear your heartbeat in your skull.

Hotch looks at you then, and finally Cramer notices your presence. "Y/N...it's been a while."

Your lips press into a thin line. "Almost two years." The anger you've been trying to avoid seeps into your voice against your will and you sigh, returning to the investigation. "How long has Baker been missing?"

"About 12 hours."

"You think he ran?" you ask, watching Cramer closely as his jaw ticks.

"No, Jimmy's too experienced to run without contact."

He realizes his misstep immediately and his shoulders fall. To his credit, he doesn't break eye contact, even as his expression softens. "That's not what I meant. All I'm saying is that I think someone's keeping Jimmy from calling in."

You can feel Aaron looking at you, but you avoid his line of sight. If you're going to have to interact with organized crime, you might as well make yourself useful. "We all want the same thing, Cramer: to get Baker back to his family."

You wait outside as he explains the situation in more detail to Hotch and Gideon, and you're surprised when he's the first to leave. "Can we talk?"

Hotch comes out behind him and raises his eyebrow for a fraction of a second, a check-in. Swallowing thickly, you nod your head and follow him down the hall to the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry I haven't reached out recently," he says as soon as you're out of earshot of the others. "You know Jeff was one of our top guys."

Your eyes shut at his name, as though someone clapped their hands too close to your face. It's almost laughable how sure you were that you were past your grief. You passed the bureau's psych evaluation after your six month leave with flying colors (because your team practically wrote the answers yourselves), and as each new day passed and you weren't so debilitated by just the thought of him, you thought it meant you were fine. Because time heals all wounds. At least it's supposed to.

"I know," you whisper scratchily, before clearing your throat. "I know that. And it's okay. We've all been busy." You look down at the bustling bullpen where his agents are interacting with your team. "Clearly."

Then you remember you're job here in the first place. "We really are just trying to help. It wouldn't hurt to keep us involved."

Cramer sighs and you know he won't refuse. "We'll loop you in."

***

James Baker is found and Vincent Perotta gets taken into custody, but you can still hear the end of the interrogation ringing in your ears.

"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent.

When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers.

And some people grow up to catch them."

You can't pinpoint exactly what you're feeling, but if you had to guess, it would be sorrow. Sorrow for that little boy who got dealt the worst hand you can imagine, and still turned into the best version of who he could've been.

Hotch can't get the interrogation out of his mind either. He had grabbed his briefcase and headed out to the elevators as soon as Perotta was taken away, in the hopes of avoiding everybody. He's about to let out his breath when a hand reaches between the doors and sends them flying open again.

Normally your appearance is a welcome sight, but tonight, he's had enough talking. Perotta took everything he had to give, and then some, and he doesn't know if he has the strength to go through the proceedings again with you.

"I just want to get home," he says as you stand next to him without a word and face the doors. To my family.

You don't say anything as the little fluorescent floor number ticks down - has it always been this slow - and he feels his nerves tighten with agitation. You're never silent, especially not about something like this.

Just before the elevator reaches the second floor, you reach forward and pull the emergency stop button. He whispers your name, half irritated half relieved, and you step in front of him, focusing your eyes on his. It's a classic profiler technique, both to mentally establish trust and to physically block him from the keypad.

"You're a great father, Aaron."

His mind flashes back 25 years, but he squeezes the hand in his pocket into a fist to keep himself from succumbing to the memories. "I'm trying."

He knows what you're doing, and he would normally be open to a healthy exchange between two adults, but tonight he just can't. It's too fresh.

You seem to understand at least a fraction of what he's trying to convey. Your next words are gentle. "That already makes you a thousand times better than him."

That almost makes him smile. "You can say his name, you know."

You shrug, looking at him with a glint in your eye. "Honestly, I don't think I can. I'm afraid I'll turn into a pile of ash, with the fury your father instills in me."

That's what gets him. He coughs out a laugh that echoes around the elevator, and you return to his side, giving him a moment to breathe on his own.

This time, when his mind spirals back to his childhood, he's not as equipped to block it. The memories come in flashes, a blackening bruise on his abdomen, a split lip explained away through roughhousing in the backyard, the thin scars on his hands and elbows as he finally started to fight back. He would've taken it all forever if he had to, if it meant that he could keep the horrors away from the people he loved. "I really should go."

"Yeah." You push the emergency stop back into place and the elevator hits the ground floor in no time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hotch."

He steps out, half expecting you to follow him. Instead, the doors close and he's by himself again, and he suddenly can't remember why he wanted to be alone in the first place.

***

When the Keystone Killer is finally caught after 18 years of inactivity, he finds himself expecting for there to be some sort of celebration, either in the form of a commendation, or a much-needed break. Instead, what he gets is a mountain of paperwork.

He usually doesn't mind the paperwork that comes after a long case. It's a helpful way for him to sort through his thoughts on what went down, and to learn from mistakes that were made along the way, whether in the profile or in the capture of the unsub.

Lately, paperwork has felt like an added torture to the long hours he already spends at work. It's not that he wasn't excited about going home before, but ever since Jack was born, he hasn't been able to get out of the office fast enough. But being the unit chief of the BAU has its responsibilities, and this is one of them.

He's drowning in consultation files and case reports when you knock on his door, two coffees in hand.

"Thought that was you," he says, finishing the sentence he was writing.

You frown, setting one steaming cup down on his desk. He hasn't even looked up yet. "How'd you know? Or do you just say that to everyone who walks in here?"

His lip twitches and he puts his pen down. "I could smell the coffee. It always smells the same when you make it."

"Oh?" You weren't aware you had a method. "And how's that?"

"Burnt."

You take the lid off your cup and chuck it at him with surprising accuracy. It would have thwacked him in the forehead if he hadn't swatted it aside with his stupid catlike reflexes.

"What are you working on?" you ask after taking a scalding sip of perfectly brewed coffee.

He looks up for a beat before diving back into the file he was skimming. "Paperwork for the Keystone Killer case."

"But we just finished that," you point out before reaching forward and taking the file out from under his nose.

He huffs. "I was...looking at that."

"This is a report on what happened a couple of hours ago," you say, ignoring his remark. "You can easily do this tomorrow, or later this week."

"It's fresh in my mind now. I don't want to forget any details."

You shrug in a motion that says 'fair enough'. "Or, you could actually go home before midnight for once."

You slide another file off the top of his pile and flip it open, reading over the notes Hotch has scribbled in the margins. He's so meticulous about his job that you almost forget he was promoted just a little over a year ago. He became unit chief at the same time that you joined the team, so you didn't get to see him in his early days, but looking at him now, you almost can't imagine it. It's like he's built for this, for taking responsibility and leading people with kindness and respect.

"Elle said something on the plane today," he says suddenly, jerking you from your thoughts.

You close the file and look up as he runs a hand over his head, pushing his thick hair back just for it to bounce forward again. "She said that she's scared she's going to look up and see that her life has passed her by while she was chasing monsters."

Something cold runs through your veins and you sit up straighter in your chair. "And what did you say?"

"I told her the truth."

You smile in an effort to keep your eyes from shining. "What, that we're all doomed?"

He looks at you candidly. "That this job will eat you up if you let it." Your smile falls and he continues. "You just can't let it."

"I'm sure Elle loved hearing that."

He shrugs. "She was surprisingly receptive."

That gets a laugh out of you, even if the good humor doesn't last long. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"This job, while also being a husband, and a father." You sigh, and you can almost feel the weight of the air as it leaves your body. "When I go home, I don't have to be anything to anyone. Most of the time it feels awful, but sometimes, after an especially bad case, I'm almost relieved when I can go home and just check out."

You aren't talking about him anymore, and he can tell. He doesn't mind, if this is what it will take for you to work through your emotions.

"We were gonna start trying for a baby."

That surprises him. Not that you wanted to be a mother - he knows that - but that he didn't know you were already thinking about it, especially because of how you grew up. You don't talk about it often, but after losing your mother to a drunk driver when you were ten, you almost transformed into her, becoming the emotional support for your family when there was no one else to fill that role.

You press your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath, your coffee cold and forgotten on the desk in front of you. "We had been talking about it for years, but with the paths our careers were taking, there just wasn't enough time before then." Your eyes look far away, and you don't seem to notice that your lips have unconsciously curved up into a reminiscent smile. "Jeff wanted five kids. Five. God, can you imagine?"

He can, but he doesn't say anything, because he knows you aren't looking for a response. Just for someone to listen.

"I'm an only child," you say with a laugh. "I don't even know what it's like to have one sibling, let alone four." But Jeff had come from a huge family, and he had wanted you to experience that. He loved how full his home always felt growing up, never without someone to talk to. Now you won't ever get to experience that. "I guess I just wish sometimes that we had tried earlier."

"You'll have it someday," Hotch says simply, practically reading your mind. "If that's what you want, you'll have it."

"I waited so long," you whisper, closing your eyes for a long moment. "I was just so afraid that I wouldn't do it right, because I didn't have my mother anymore to help me."

"You would've been a great mother," he assures you, his voice confident. "One day, you will be."

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you clear your throat to keep the tears at bay. "How do you know?"

"I just know."

***

When you push through the doors to the bullpen the next morning, you are greeted by a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Sean?"

He turns around slowly, clearly recognizing your voice, and pulls his lips up into a smile that you return. "Hey, Y/N, how's it going?"

You weren't close to him as a kid, mostly because of the age gap between him and Hotch. You had tried to make more of an effort after graduating college, but Sean was fierce in his convictions, and there were a lot of things he didn't understand about his childhood that you certainly weren't going to explain to him now.

"Good, good," you say, leading him away from the throng of staring women. You shoot them a look that makes them disperse. "You here for your brother? He's upstairs."

He nods, glancing up at the closed office door. You start to lead him to the stairwell when he stops in his tracks and turns to you. "What mood's he in?"

"Why?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "You got bad news? Nothing I need to worry about, I hope."

Sean shakes his head, glancing up at the closed door again. "Nothing like that. I'll just go up."

You let him walk up on his own, knowing he doesn't want you getting involved in whatever he's thinking about. Before you have a moment to catch your breath, the three women return to your side.

"That's Hotch's brother?" Penelope asks, standing so close you can feel her breath on your ear.

"Maybe Hotch is adopted."

"What do you mean?" you ask, unconsciously glancing up the stairs. "They're honestly pretty similar." You're only half joking. They don't look anything alike, but that Hotchner brand of righteousness runs deep.

JJ frowns. "I don't see it."

"Yeah, he looks...like that," Penelope murmurs, before looking at you. "Did you know him when you were younger? Was he hot then too?"

You choke on your own spit. "He was nine years old when I left for college, so...no."

Her eyes widen and she lifts her hands in surrender.

"Ooh, here he comes."

You look up to see Sean storming down the stairs, Hotch hot on his heels.

"Sean, listen to me."

He turns so fast, you're afraid they're going to crash into each other. "Don't profile me, Aaron."

Sean stomps out of the bullpen while Hotch watches him leave, and you can't get the striking feeling of deja vu out of your head. Two boys, 15 years younger than they are now, standing in the same positions, with the same looks on their faces.

You imagine that you and Hotch probably act the same way around each other as when you first met, at eight years old.

The memory comes easily, even with more than two decades of time standing in the way. The little boy with dark hair who had sat next to you on the school bus, just because there were no other empty seats available that day.

You hadn't said anything for the first few stops, just watched him out of the corner of your eye as he nodded his head unconsciously to the music coming out of his large headphones. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you tapped on his shoulder. "What are you listening to?"

He had taken his headphones off quickly, as though caught in the act. "What?"

You repeated your question before leveling him with a pointed stare that meant 'there is a correct answer'. You were a feisty kid, and you weren't always the best at making first impressions, so his steady response impressed you. "Beatles. Revolver album."

"I love that one!" you had gushed, leaning in closer without a warning to press your ear to one of the speakers on his headphones. "Is this Yellow Submarine?"

He had nodded, the confusion in his eyes slowly transforming into delight. "You know their stuff?"

"Of course. My favorite's Eleanor Rigby."

He had frowned then. "That one's too sad."

You weren't surprised by his opinion. You had yet to find a boy your age who could appreciate serious music, but liking The Beatles was a start, at least.

"I'm Y/N," you had said, extending your hand like you were starting a business meeting.

He shook your hand furtively. "Aaron."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

The school bus had stopped at your street then, and you had gotten up without another word to this boy, who would one day become your best friend in the world.

Luckily, the next day, Aaron chose to sit next to you again, this time with a second pair of headphones to attach to his compact cassette deck. Two days turned to three, and before long, you had a new friend.

***

"I can't imagine what two weeks away from this place is gonna feel like," you sigh, packing some essentials into your bag and snapping it shut. "I might actually miss you guys."

"Not me," Morgan grins, before pressing a kiss to your cheek as he zips around you. "Two weeks of pure heaven with nothing but young, beautiful adults looking to make vacation memories."

"Your friend's resort better be as nice as you say it is," Elle says sternly as she wiggles her finger at Derek, who is busy inviting Reid to join their vacation.

"Thanks, but I'm going home," he says quickly, without looking at any of you. "Have a good one, guys."

"I'll head out too," you announce, grabbing your things and following him to the elevators. "Wait up, Spence."

He doesn't seem to hear you, but you slip through the doors just before they close. "You okay?"

"Huh?" he says, finally looking up. "Oh, yeah. I'm just not looking forward to the Nevada heat."

You can tell he's lying, but you don't want to press him right before the long break. "You can always call me if you need anything. Seriously."

"Yeah," he nods. "I know."

You wave goodbye to him in the parking lot, and you're back in the silence of your home by the end of the hour.

The rest of your day is spent lazing around the house, and you're asleep when you hear a knock at your door. After Jeff's death, you started keeping your gun in your nightstand, more out of a general sense of security than any specific acute fear, but its proximity during late night calls has given you the peace of mind you needed to finally sleep through the night.

Lifting it from the drawer, you hold it behind your back as you tiptoe to your front door and look through the peephole. When you don't see anyone, you carefully pull the door open, only to find a small packet sitting on your welcome mat with your name scrawled on the top.

After bringing it inside the house and locking the door again, you pry open the seal and extract a large piece of paper covered in a series of numbers and dots.

That's when the phone rings.

***

"How's it going?" you ask Reid and Morgan as you enter the conference room where all of the Fisher King's clues have been laid out. Neither of them have taken their eyes off the paper you brought in since you tacked it up on the board.

As expected, Reid doesn't look up. "The answer to what book we need has to be in here."

"Yeah," Derek sighs, glancing over at you, "but we sure as hell can't see it."

"Yet."

You look at the numbers again, hoping that your short walk to the coffee station and back would have been enough to unlock something new in your brain. Nothing. "The answer has to be based on specific details of each person's clue." A small sound turns your attention to the couch, where Elle is lying on her side. "Is Elle asleep?"

"I'm awake!" she starts, sitting up lethargically.

At the outburst, Hotch walks into the room and points at her bags. "I'm sending you home. You need to get some rest."

"No-"

"We won't do anything without you, I promise."

"Elle, seriously, we're not any closer than we were."

She nods, her lack of sleep seeming to dawn on her as she yawns again.

"Anderson," Hotch calls out, before you stop him. "What is it?"

"I can take her home," you suggest, looking over your shoulder as she lugs her bags down the hall with bleary eyes. He looks like he wants to protest, so you speak up before he has the chance. "She barely knows Anderson. I'll make sure she's settled, and then you can send him to watch her house, so I can come back here."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he sighs, his eyes still trained on Elle's silhouette lingering by the elevator. "We may need you here."

You cock your head at Reid and Morgan, who have been sitting in the same positions for so long, you're surprised their necks haven't locked. "It's like they said. We haven't made any progress in over an hour. I'm not helping here."

He still looks unsure, but you know it's just worry. He'll always worry about you. "Okay, go. Call me in an hour to check-in."

You dip your head in a nod and jog through the bullpen to catch Elle as she's heading out.

"So you're my bodyguard, huh?"

You laugh, pressing the button for the ground floor. "Something like that."

"Good," Elle says, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, "you're much more fun than Anderson."

"Prettier, too."

The car ride to her house starts off silent, but eventually you break your internal promise to let her come to you. "How are you feeling after last night?"

She just shrugs. "It was more annoying than anything. I'm just glad I got to enjoy at least some of my vacation."

"I heard there was blood all over your room," you point out lightly, trying to broach the subject in a delicate manner. "That can't have been fun to wake up to."

"It was all on the outside. That's part of why they weren't able to hold me. That, and Hotch's lawyer chops."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her as you pull over to the sidewalk. "His lawyer chops?" You know he used to be a prosecutor before joining the bureau, but you never got to see his skills in action.

"Yeah," Elle gushes, her face brightening considerably, "you should have seen the way he walked in there. Those beat cops had no idea what hit 'em. He was in full prosecutor mode, went all rainmaker on them until they released me."

You can imagine it. If any of you were in trouble, he wouldn't let anything get between him and your safety. "I wish I could've seen that."

When you put the car in park, you help Elle with her bags and walk her up to her door, where she insists that she'll be fine on her own.

"I promised I would wait with you until another agent could come and relieve me," you emphasize, instinctively scanning the vicinity around her home as she walks inside and drops her things on the floor.

"In about thirty seconds, I'll be passed out on this couch right here," she points at the window seat behind her, "so you'll just be watching me sleep for an hour."

You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off. "Y/N, I'll be fine."

If there's one word to describe Elle, it's stubborn, so you let her shut the door behind her and you walk back to your car. Even if she won't let you sit with her inside, you still can't bring yourself to start the ignition, so you lean your seat back halfway and close your eyes, just for a few moments.

You haven't gotten much sleep either, and you're about to doze off when you hear a loud thud from outside the car. Jerking up, you undo the clasp of your holster and push open the car door. The world is silent, except for the rustling of leaves in the wind, but you start making your way up the drive, just to be sure. There's another thud, quieter this time, and you reach for your sidearm as you ascend her porch steps. Then comes a gunshot.

You start running.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #elle greenaway #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #jason gideon #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner series #criminal minds series #criminal minds season one #criminal minds fic #fic #criminal minds imagine #hotch fic #anchor series #anchor

[telekineticseance]

CLOSER TO THE HEART

pairing: matt stone x f! assistant reader

summary: matt’s away for a trip and you miss him

genre: smut

word count: 2344

cw: legal age gap, phone sex, dom!matt, f!masturbation, finger(f!receiving), unprotected sex, edging, breeding kink (if you squint)

author's note: the final part has arrived. i’m really happy with how this series has grown and all the people it has introduced me to. this was my first matt fic i’ve ever written and i’m so happy to continue writing and i’m excited for the future.

this is part ten to a series if you haven't read the first part check it out here: "CIRCUMSTANCES"

“I really do miss you.” Matt’s voice rang on the other line of the phone. You let out a small sigh, your chest aching from the tone in his voice, “I know..I miss you too.”

It had been a couple months since you and Matt had started your relationship and every moment with him just continued to be better than the one before. Even though he was currently back in Colorado for some finishing touches on Casa Bonita, he called you when he got back to his hotel room and still tried to convince you to come to Colorado to spend a weekend with him.

“Matt, I have work.” You would tell him, it was true, you were technically working for Matt by house sitting while he was away. You would do it for his trips normally before the two of you got together and since you were still trying to keep it a secret, you insisted on staying at his place instead of leaving with him like he wanted. “I know.” He would sigh back, but tonight was different. The tone in his voice was off and he seemed more pushy than usual.

“I just wish you were here..ya know?..” You heard more shuffling from the phone as Matt moved around and you nodded, barely awake since it was almost 2am for you, meaning it was 3am for him. “Wish I could see your face..feel your skin on mine..”

You let out a small hum, listening to his voice as it got softer and lower. “Mmhmm.” You hummed out. He let out a soft chuckle, “You tired?” You curled up more in Matt’s bed, tugging the blanket closer to you in the process, “I could be.”

He let out another chuckle as you heard a few more shuffling sounds, “Well don’t go to sleep quite yet.” He mumbled into the phone. “Okay. I won’t.”

As much as you tried, you struggled to hold your eyes open, especially with Matt mumbling some nonsense to himself on the other line, his voice making you drift even further. “What would you do if I was with you right now?” Matt’s voice rang through, causing you to shoot your eyes back open as you were almost completely asleep.

You rolled over on the bed, to where you were now facing the wall before thinking, “What would you want me to do?” You could tell from his pause, he was letting the thoughts run laps in his brain before he spoke up, “Well what I would do is I’d definitely kiss your lips, maybe kiss in the spot behind your ear that makes you squirm.” He let out a small chuckle before continuing, “Leave a trail of hickeys down your body, before looking up to that pretty face of yours. Watch as your eyes plead for more.”

You let out a hum in response, tightening your legs together as you listened to him continue talking, “Maybe run my fingers along your slit, listening to your gasps as I touch you.” You bit your bottom lip, closing your eyes as you imagined everything. “And then what?”

“Fuck you with my tongue, holding you down by your hips as you thrust against my face.” You let out a small sigh, “Matt..” You breathed out into the phone, rubbing your legs together as it started to create friction against your panties.

“Yes baby?” He asked, his voice getting low. “Keep going.” You begged him, your breathing getting a little faster as you continued rubbing your thighs together. “You’re not getting off to this are you?”

“No.” You whined out, biting your bottom lip, “I don’t feel like you’re telling me the truth.” He tsked on the other end of the phone, “Are you?”

“No sir,” You responded, letting out a small whimper as you continued rubbing your thighs together, not wanting to completely touch yourself until Matt gave you permission himself. “You know I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

“I know..” You mumbled into the phone, “If I were there I’d have you begging me to let you come, you know that don’t you?” He questioned, followed by more shuffling.

“Yes sir.”

“I want to hear your whimpers. Touch yourself for me.” He commanded from the other line. You obeyed, slipping your hand under your pajama shorts, rubbing yourself through your soaking, red, lace panties. The ones Matt bought you specifically for pictures for when he’d be away. You let out small whines as you continued rubbing yourself, earning a soft groan from Matt.

“I wish I were there so I could watch you be the filthy slut you are.” He groaned into the phone, you could almost picture the way his eyes squinted as he tugged at himself through his pants, leaning his head back so he could picture his own hand as yours.

You moved your panties aside, dipping a finger in between your folds as you started thrusting it. “Matt..I miss you.” You whined into the phone. “I know. Fuck.” He whispered the last part under his breath, as you let out a little gasp into the phone, hitting your g-spot with your fingers, curling them in the process.

Being without Matt was bringing you so much built up frustration that no matter how often the two of you would Facetime or even just talk on the phone, your fingers wouldn’t bring that same relief that you knew he could bring. You didn’t know if you wanted the feeling of his tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat or if you wanted him bending you over the edge of the bed as he pushed your face down into the mattress as he fucked you. You just knew that you wanted him.

“M-Matt..” You moaned out his name, continuing to pump your fingers through your core. “Are you close?” You bit your bottom lip as you closed your eyes, your grip on the phone getting tighter as your hand started to get shaky. “Y-Yes.”

“Yes what?” The tone in his voice raised slightly, before he let out a puff of air. “Yes sir.”

“Good girl. Now I want you to do something for me okay?” He asked, in which you nodded in response, ignoring the fact he couldn’t see you. “I want you to stop.”

“B-”

“No buts. Do as you're told.”

You bit your bottom lip as you slowly pulled out your fingers, breathing heavily into the phone, a whimper coming from your mouth with every other couple of breaths, earning a small chuckle from Matt once more. “What are you wearing?”

“Hmm…a tank top, shorts, those panties you bought me…” You trailed off, playing with the hem of your tank top. “Take it off.”

“All of it?” You asked, starting to pull your tank top off your head. “All of it.” His voice darkened even more. You pulled off your clothes, putting them on the floor next to the bed before bringing the phone back to your ear.

“Okay..”

“Start touching yourself again and don’t stop unless I say otherwise.” He told you before you heard the line cut off. You looked at your phone and saw that the call had been disconnected. Immediately you called back, only to be sent to voicemail after a couple of rings. Your heart started racing at the thought of something happening to him before you heard heavy footsteps outside the door.

Your eyes widened before you climbed off the bed, pulling your clothes off the floor to put them on, but before you could, you watched as the door to Matt’s bedroom opened and his silhouette filled the door frame as his eyes scanned your body.

Your heart stopped beating for a moment as you watched the man stand in front of you, his face stern as he watched you, showing no reaction as you let the clothes slip from your hands, back to your feet. “What did I tell you?” He asked, his feet heavy as he walked closer to you.

You opened your mouth to speak but he placed his index finger over your lips before running his hand down from your lips to your chin, pinching it with his fingers as he looked into his eyes. The moonlight from the window next to the bed shined in, reflecting off of his face as he looked at you. He licked his lips before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth, pulling his hand away before motioning to the bed.

You felt your body pull away from the heat radiating from his before you leaned back on the bed in front of him, your feet dangling off the edge of the bed as you kept them spread in the process. He continued watching you, his hand rested on his chin while his finger tapped lightly on his lips as he scanned you. “So?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

You reached your hand down before you started running your fingers through your folds again, thrusting them in as Matt continued watching. You let out a moan as you closed your eyes, tilting your head back into the mattress. When you looked back up, you noticed that Matt was now on his knees in front of you, the only thing you could see was his eyes as he continued watching. He pulled his shirt off over his head, throwing it across the room before he placed his hand over yours as you continued pumping your fingers.

You felt his own fingers thrust in with yours, stretching your walls as you curled your toes lightly, a gasp coming from your mouth. His eyes focused in, continuing to watch as he thrusted his fingers. “Did an old man like me really get you all heated like this mama?” He asked softly, another one of those dark chuckles following behind as he did so.

You let out another moan, unable to speak from the feeling that the combination of fingers brought you, only you could let out a small hum, signaling to Matt that you were about to reach your high again. “I don’t think so yet.” He pulled his hand away, dragging yours along with it as his eyes went to your face.

You looked down at him, the throbbing coming from your core as you felt him tease you with something that was so close. He rose up from the side of the bed and sometime when you weren’t paying attention to him he had pulled off his shorts, revealing the boxers he was wearing underneath.

He slowly placed sloppy kisses along your body, slowly reaching up to your chest before licking his tongue along the valley between your breasts. His mouth went to one nipple, taking it between his teeth and giving it a light pull before going over to the other one and doing the same as his eyes continued watching your face through his brows. You felt your hands move up and grab onto his head before he placed his hands over yours, pulling them away and pinning them on either side of your head.

“Not yet.” He spoke softly before he continued kissing up your chest, going to your neck, then your jaw, and then you felt his lips against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth as your tongues began to fight for dominance. When you felt defeated, you let his tongue roam around your mouth as you whined into the kiss, fighting against his grip, wanting to touch him. Wanting to run your hands along his arms.

He pulled away before looking into your eyes, “You know I’ve missed you too.” He teased, raising his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes, giving him a huff, “Matt…please.” You begged him, giving him the pleading eyes that drove him mad.

You continued to feel your center throb and ache, begging for his touch, begging for him. He pressed his lips into yours again, before pulling his hands away from yours to pull down his boxers. You felt his facial stubble poke your face as he kissed you, causing you to give a small smile into the kiss.

The smile soon dropped when you felt him slip his cock into your aching walls. You let out a moan into his lips, feeling the stretch as he thrusted. “Matt..” You moaned out into the kiss. He bit your bottom lip, giving it a small tug before deepening the kiss as he thrusted at a slow pace. His hands trailed up your sides, before grabbing your hands and pinning them down once more, this time inlacing his fingers with yours as he did so.

He pulled away from your lips, kissing your neck, nippling on it in the process. The noises between you two sounded like music to your ears. Filling that void, and that need that you’ve wanted since Matt left for Colorado months ago.

“I missed you so fucking much.” He groaned into your neck, the grip on your hands tightening as he thrusted faster and harder.

His thrusts deepened as he started hitting your g spot rapidly, causing you to arch your back as your nails dug into the back of his hands. “I-I’m close Matt. Please.” You begged, wanting him to let you release.

“Come on my cock.” He breathed out onto your lips. The command made you release almost instantly, you rapidly flexing around him as he thrusted. You felt his thrusts grow sloppy as he started to pull out before you stopped him by wrapping your legs around his waist. “No..” You stopped him, “I like it when you..”

He gave you a small smirk before nodding. You felt his tip twitch inside before he released his fluids inside, his body shaking slightly as he did so. He pressed one more kiss to your lips before he pulled out, looking into your eyes. “I love you.”

You felt your heart stop at his words, the first time he spoke them to you.

“I…love you too.”

#farewell circumstances 🫡 #matt stone #matt stone x reader #matt stone smut

[sugar-omi]

okay, so i've been doing some thinking. i've been scrolling through your blog and i stepped upon these "cheating on cove with Baxter and the other way around" scenarios. (i'm sorry, i wasn't able to read them, my heart couldn't take it ;-;) but!

what if mc was like, in a normal relationship with Baxter. you know, a couple, maybe married later and stuff, while of course still being besties with Cove. later mc and Baxter have a kid together, maybe still a small baby but! plot twist! Baxter gets into an accident or something and dies. (i'm sorry, he's my favourite man but i had to kill him for that scenario:'))

mc is completely devastated and also a little panicked, because what about the baby? and then Cove stepps in, deciding to help his best friend take care of the little one and basically becomes its father. i recently watched a video of a dog "helping" a cat take care of her kittens, and there you have it.

this one may be boring, so feel free to ignore, but i can't stop thinking about it.

ITS OK<333 I figured some ppl didn't read it bc angst n pain</3 trust me I skip over angst all the time

(I even have the tag blocked😬 sorry angst writers but I will read it and not be the same for months, I read a kiribaku angst fic years ago, and was devesated for 4 months afterwards LMAO)

okay i... I cannot expand too much on this bc OUCH

(eta now that I've finished. who am I fooling? I rlly said that like I haven't wrote a whole novel 💀 anyway <3 this clearly made me pop off more than I thought I would bc I read this at first n was devastated!!! I had no words!!!! well clearly I found them LOL)

ALSO BORING??? ANON PLEASE.. BORING WHERE<///3

n im gonna fix the format later but for now here is the bare minimum. I'm going to bed rn so nini everyone enjoy a bit of angst I promise its fluffy as well<333

tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

p/n = parental name, since I wanted to leave flexibility for all the readers here <3

but anyway yeah cove would so step up for you

will follow you to the end of the earth and do whatever you need to help you work through this and to adapt to this sudden and unfortunate change

if/when your relationship starts becoming something romantic, cove would absolutely put the brakes on everything and you'd go so slow...

I imagine he'd probably move in with you or you with him, and he'd stay somewhere else (if you're living in his house he will leave anyway, he's a gentleman like that fr) so that way you can figure out if it's not just bc he's doing all these things n you're mistaking admiration for love

you'd spend the first year going super slow, as if you've never known each other before

which technically you haven't, since you've never dated before. but cove would go so far as to find out your favorite color, song, animal, food.. all over again, even though he has it memorized and knows your likes better than his own.

once cove is sure you're ready for this (after much talk between the two of you and even with your therapist that yes you've made enough progress and are emotionally ready for this) does he finally put a label on it

now if you get married...

I imagine cove won't propose at all

like I think you'd have to talk n almost beg him...

in that case he would do a small but grande gesture to propose. or he'd propose to you before you've even left the bed for the day... no inbetween

but like 8 times outta 10, you're gonna have to propose to him

he'd cry and hug you n say yes of course.

and unless you want to keep this outta your wedding, I think cove would include baxter in your wedding.

first, ofc you'd have the picture to honor his memory

but I think he'd even go so far as to have smth in his vows. but to start, he'd say smth like:

"I know the reason we became closer was unfortunate, but I'm so happy to be able to call you and [Child] my family. and I hope I can be a good father and husband"

and "baxter will always have a place in our hearts. even though he and I didn't get along at first (watery chuckle)... I'm glad he got to love you, and I hope he trusts me to love and cherish you the same way as well.."

also if you don't want to give up your wedding ring from baxter, I think cove would even go so far as to suggest combining it with his.

!!! omg I was gonna say your and baxter's wedding bands would be black, but I have another idea

okay now, for YOUR bands, I imagine they're either black or silver and yk those infinity(?) bands? that has the 2 types of metal or whatever

that's what cove would suggest doing. and if you are worried abt people asking why your bands are different, he'd get the same twisted band but silver with say a black diamond or smth. just smth to make it look like it's intentionally different colors but same design or smth

(im overthinking a bit but it's an idea right?! I'm not crazy??<////3)

or if you don't wanna do that, I imagine you can just slip it on a necklace or leave it as is, whatever you want. he wouldn't mind even if you kept wearing it, cove would never ask you to get rid of baxter's image or memory in any way, not unless it was a real problem and your attachment to him/his things was unhealthy anyway.

now for baxter's band... well if you didn't bury it with him, I imagine you'd give it to your child

another thing I think you could do w your wedding band as well, and give them both your bands to do whatever they want with. or if they don't want it of course you're not forcing them to keep it

even though they didn't get to know baxter, the way you and cove still cherish baxter's memory does help them feel something of a connection.

I also imagine baxter would take lots of photo n video w the kid, even though they're young n just a babe, theres so many videos of baxter looking n acting so loving w them

and even a couple where he's teary-eyed n all "imma do you right by you. I love you so much.."

of course, if the kid doesn't feel that connected to baxter since they were too young to know or rmbr anything, and they don't feel anything much other than sympathy and the occasional sting when they see how much baxter loved them, you don't force it.

you both know that baxter was basically a stranger to them and even though they still respect baxter and he has a place in their heart, they don't feel like they're lacking anything.

"I don't really know what to say.. or how to feel... I see how much [P/N] misses you sometimes, and we have pictures of you, and they talk about you and stuff...

but I don't feel like im missing a dad. I hope that doesn't hurt your feelings, I wish I knew you too. sometimes I wish you were still here, so I got to know you as well, even though I'm still happy to have dad cove for my dad.

I just wanna know what you were like. I wanna experience what you were like. I... I wanna miss you like everyone else misses you too...

anyway, just know that dad is great! he takes care of me and [P/N] really well! he makes breakfast in bed, and he does/used to do this thing where he lifts me in the air before bed! he's so cool. I see how he makes [P/N] happy as well, so don't worry. although, [P/N] said you always thought cove was reliable and a good guy so maybe you aren't worrying anyway.

well... that's it I guess. i hope ill get to know you one day, and maybe you can tell me you're glad to see dad took good care of us. goodbye,

baxter."

pa."

cove happily listens to anything they have to say on how they feel abt baxter btw. he accepts any of their feelings, be it that they don't feel anything at all, sympathy for others, or they feel sad abt losing him.

if they do say smth like how even though it's unfortunate and they feel bad for everyone who mourns baxter (for example/especially you), they see cove as their dad and don't feel like they're missing anything and they're happy to have cove for their dad.

ofc he cries n hugs them n tells them he loves em and he's happy n he comforts them if needed of course

I also think cove is very scared abt being a father

especially in this way... even if the kiddo doesn't remember anything, or it's hazy at best, he worries about replacing baxter.

he'd probably worry abt not living up to baxter

baxter was always much more mature, at least it seemed that way most times. cove just worries about if he has the backbone and the ability to parent the child well and be someone they can look up to and/or appreciate for being a good father

cries if they call him dad btw

if they do it before you start dating, I imagine it's one of the catalyst that cause you to talk abt your feelings for each other. or if it's in the early stage..

cove prbly freezes and runs away to the other room n freaks out, definitely cries. if you don't talk to him like right after he calls his dad n cries n shares his worries n fear

either way, when you do talk he's biting his nails n trying not to pace around the room and he's like "if you wanna distance yourselves so that they don't call me dad any more I totally understand, I mean idk it's prbly weird for you-"

n he just rambles. like none of it makes sense n u have to physically shut him up. kiss him, yell, throw a pillow, hit him w the child's stuffed animal, throw a single lego brick at his back and watch him fall to the floor like he just got a nuke thrown at him

if it's later on n theres nothing to worry abt bc youve talked abt this or saw it coming or its just the otherwise most natural step, he cries of course

but he doesn't fall apart from being his in the back w a single fucking Lego as if it hurt 🙄🙄🙄🙄 (I hate this man he's DRAMATIC)

well... actually no he does

hit him, kiss him, hug him, run him over w a hotel wheels truck.... he just cries harder

adopts them like immediately basically

I imagine you do it soon, like maybe before the wedding just so that way you can have a private moment (just to save him some embarrassment from ugly crying in front of your families. in fact he just might faint fr)

n you + the kiddo surprise him w adoption papers (depending on how old the babe is at this point, they have like no idea what's going on but they know that cove is now officially recognized by the whole world (even by the unicorns n wizards n warlocks) as their daddy))

imagine laying in bed w cove n the kid in between you two

and when you wake up, cove is alrdy awake and was watching you two. he was petting the kids wild hair and he had pulled the two of you in and kept you under his arm..

and the sunlight is coming in, the day is just perfect. n the look on cove's face is full of so much love but also a bit somber this time

(cove feels awkward being here like this sometimes. during times like this you have to remind him it's okay, and you pull him back in. of course he does the same for you on those days.)

"I love you two. so much..." he whispers, tears sticking to his lashes

the kid flips over, curling into cove and they stop their sleepy mumbling now that they're tucked into cove's chest, feeling warm, happy, and safe.

you whisper equally as tender. "we were meant to be like this too."

also!! smth I just thought of...

imagine the kid looks mostly/very much like baxter. they act very much like cove's kid

like you would think cove n baxter had a kid together LOL

(if the resemblance is too much, they ask if you're the step parent </3 pls Ik it may not make sm sense but I just think it'd be so fuckin funny)

#olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #baxter ward #baxter ward x reader #angst #baxter ward angst #cove holden angst #angst with a happy ending

[faefaye]

Locus Minoris Resistentiae

So I have this WIP fic for Azik and Klein that I don't think I'm ever going to finish and thought it'd be better to post the two snippets I do have here on Tumblr :p.

I haven't really canon-checked it like I do with my posted fics, feel free to leave concrit.

-

Summary:

Sia Palenque Eggers is devoted to the cause. Which is why, no matter how confused "She" is, "She" won’t ask about the man who appears around Death Consul Azik. "She" definitely won’t ask why the Death Consul behaves so– so warmly around him.

(or: the AU where Azik fuses with the other half of his soul after all, Klein is his anchor to humanity and the Numinous Episcopate has no clue what’s going on.)

i.

If one thought back, the first sign of oddity was probably the letter.

Sia remembered it with crystal clarity.

It had been two weeks since Death Consul Azik Eggers had returned. There had been rumours of "His" appearance in the high seas a few months before that, alongside a crazy adventurer, and it was followed by events like the calming of the Berserk Sea and the breakdown of the Artificial Death project, but nothing had come of it.

Then one day, the Death Consul had returned to the Southern Continent.

Even if “He” was a Sequence 2, making “Him” technically on the same level as Sia, “He” was the direct descendant of Death. “He” was the figure around whom the remains of the Balam Empire would rally without question.

Sia didn’t even need to think about giving up “Her” position as the head of the royal family faction. As a mark of “Her” devotion, “She” had even – if somewhat reluctantly, no one else needed to know – handed over the Grade 1 Sealed Artifact in “Her” possession. The Sequence 1 Beyonder characteristic it held would no doubt serve better in the hands of the Consul.

“He” had called for a meeting with the other descendants of their family, to discuss what "He" had missed in “His” millenia away.

They were halfway through their reports when there was a change in the air. Being members of the Death pathway, they had a spiritual intuition even before a fountain of bones had sprung from the ground next to the Consul and arranged itself into the form of a four-metre tall skeleton.

It respectfully knelt and handed over a folded piece of paper.

The Consul took it and, without giving a look to the rest of them, "He" started reading it.

Sia couldn’t see the contents nor would “She” dare to peek, but “She” could clearly see the Consul’s face. The cold emotionless stare flickered with a change that was too subtle to be grasped.

Then “He” took a fountain pen and spare paper, penned down a short note of “His” own–pausing after a few lines with that same flicker of expression again–and handed it over to the messenger who promptly vanished.

None of them asked any questions. The Consul gave no answers.

-

ii.

While that may have been the first sign, the next was undoubtedly the most notable.

Sia knocked on the office door, having a report to make on the handful of rogue factions that still refused to yield to them.

There was a silence that stretched for a dozen seconds before the Consul’s clear voice rang with, “Enter”.

“She” stepped in.

The first thing “She” noticed was that the room was dark. One would imagine that to be the aesthetic of an inverted mausoleum, but they actually had gas lamps in almost all the rooms, and the Consul’s office was no exception. In fact, it probably had a few more than the rest.

The second thing was probably what “She” should have noticed first, but one could forgive "Her" for completely skipping it, because there was no way “She” was actually seeing someone curled up on the couch, right?

“She” opened "Her" mouth on instinct, then forced it shut, instead shifting "Her" gaze to the Consul in wariness of causing offense. “He” had already caught what "She" was looking at – it was impossible not to.

Before “He” could say anything though, the person on the couch sat up and asked with the barest traces of sleepiness, “Mr. Azik?”

Sia startled. Mr. Azik? Who did he think he was talking to, his friend? Did he want to be turned into a corpse? "She" awaited how the Consul would deal with such insolence.

…except “He” didn’t bat an eye at it. In fact, “He”...

Sia wasn’t sure “She” could trust “Her” own eyes. If “She” didn’t know better… the Consul was smiling? It was like watching snow melt under a beam of sunlight or, to be more accurate to the person, a corpse rot under the sudden influence of heat. The Consul was a being only a step below Death. "He" didn’t smile.

“It’s been almost three hours. Have the negative effects dissipated?” “He” asked.

The man nodded. “The effects last just two, actually. I should get going. Thank you for letting me stay.”

The Consul shook "His" head… fondly? “It's nothing. I’ll temporarily lift the protections against the spirit world here.”

The man nodded, then pulled at the air, retrieving a skin-like glove. He wore it and vanished.

Sia was half-tempted to hurt “Herself” and check if “She” had just experienced a dream or an illusion.

“She” didn’t, because the Consul turned “His” gaze on “Her”, back to its usual dispassionate state. “He” lit the lamp on “His” table and asked, “What do you have to say?”

“She” forced herself to put aside all thoughts of what "She" had just seen.

#lord of the mysteries #lotm #lord of mysteries #azik eggers #klein moretti #sia eggers #my fics #platonic aziklein #im gonna make that a tag #lotm spoilers #fic wip

[a-force-dyad-in-space]

A Fanfic Update

Hey guys, I thought I should give you an update about what's going on Ongoing-WIPs-wise just in case you've had some worries.

The short of it is that the writing juices haven't flowed well for a while now and I'm trying to get them back but it is a struggle. I've worked a bit on this fic or other but haven't made significant progress in a few months. I absolutely hope that will change soon but I unfortunately can't force it. It doesn't help that I'm going through some stuff IRL right now that I have to take care of (I am unfortunately an adult who has to do adulting and pay bills and shit 🥲). I try not to be too stressed out about it, but the more time passes the more the anxiety sets in. Wish me luck. 💪🏻

Anyway, here's a fic-by-fic overview, split up by fandom.

THE UNTAMED

The Angsty SongXue Fic — I'll be honest, I've written a little bit since I last updated you guys but I still haven't finished the buffer chapter (at this point I'm thinking about posting chapter 51 even though 52 isn't done yet), so nothing really new here. I really want to get back into a writing flow but so far it hasn't really worked. I am still working on it, though, so don't worry, I'm not going to drop it.

The It Follows AU — I'm ashamed to say I didn't even realize I posted that fic almost two years ago and I still haven't written the second half. I'm so sorry it's taking so long! I definitely still want to finish it! I might rewatch the It Follows movie before I do that, though.

The Observer Series — Oh yeah, remember that smutfic series I started a few years ago of which I've only posted part 1 so far? Yeah, I still need to work on that. I did write chapter 1 of part 2 a while ago, so it's not like it's forgotten, I just need to get my ass up and write the rest of part 2 before I can post it. 🙈

The Color Rush AU — Okay, technically I haven't posted that one yet but I did share a snippet along with a gifset a few years ago, so you guys know it exists. I haven't worked on it in a long time, though, and I don't know yet when I will find the spoons to continue writing it but I'm still intrigued by the premise and want to give it a go. Thank you for your patience!

The Somewhat Sweet, Somewhat Angsty XuanXian Fic — Again, haven't posted that one yet but I've been posting about it, so you guys know it exists. Nothing new on this front. I did want to rewrite the whole thing because I wasn't really happy with the way I wrote it thus far, so I'll probably go back to it at some point and do that, I just don't know when yet.

WORD OF HONOR

The Xie'er Deserves the World Fic — Listen, guys, I love this fic so much, I just haven't worked on it in a while. I'll probably re-read what I've written so far and go on from there, I've just been struggling with the latest chapter ever since I started writing it years ago. It's not dropped, though, I will get back to it! Pinky swear!

SAILOR MOON

I've mentioned here and there that I'm working on part 1 of an epic that is based on a doujinshi I started when I was 13 or 14. Unlike my other WIPs, this one really is 100% self-indulgent to the point where I don't even care whether people will read/like it once I post it when it's completely done. I'll just put it out there to make my teenage self happy because this story has been simmering in my head for over 20 years, and so that my IRL friends can read it if they want to. So, this one will be a long way out, but it exists. I'm only really mentioning it because I've mentioned it a couple of times before and because it's the fic that's been on my mind the most lately.

STAR WARS

You didn't think I forgot about TROBS, did you????? I did work on several beginnings of a draft during NaNoWriMo last year and I'm getting more and more of a clear picture of how I want it to go. For those unfamiliar, TROBS (or The Rise of Ben Skywalker, though I already changed the name of the fic again) is my attempt at an Episode IX fix-it fic that essentially replaces TROS. This one has been simmering in my head since early 2020 and I really want to get it out of there and onto the page for catharsis. I've even held off on reading any other TROS fix-its because of it, even though I've heard there are some really amazing ones out there (and I can't wait to read them once I've gotten my own out of my damn head). I really need to finally finish that beast. Wish me luck. 🥲

UNPOSTED WIPs

I still have so many notes for other fics (mostly for The Untamed) that I want to write at some point. Will I be able to get them all on the page? I honestly don't know, but I'll see where they take.

Anyway, that's all!

#jen's ramblings #jengwrites

[unforth]

I managed to completely forget I posted goals on Tumblr last January (I knew it was on a Discord, where I was pointedly ignoring it since...yeah. well. about that.) but I found it while looking for something else, and I might as well take a glance back.

Goals I set for 2022:

Personal Goals from 2022:

Get My Back Fixed: victory, to the extent that victory was possible. I had back surgery on Feb 7th, and that fixed the primary issue (spinal stenosis caused by a herniated disc). My arthritis still exists and flares every couple months but my doc already told me that's just gonna be the rest of my life. Since that part isn't fixable...well, at least the surgery helped.

Keep Losing Weight: I was up and down throughout the year, and ended up pretty much exactly where I started, at about 180.

Exercise: I maintained a regular stretching/exercise regimen, including a fair amount of walking and even a little jogging, from March through November. I slipped in November, but I started again last week, so...yeah.

Study Chinese: almost 100% success! At least I didn't fall down in every regard, lmao. I study for about 45 minutes every day, across 3 apps. I finished Duolingo's core curriculum and have a streak of over 450 days going atm. I bought a year subscription to DuChinese so I could practice reading and it's really helping my vocabulary. I didn't manage to do much of any translation but eh, I'll take it.

Community Goals from 2022:

Encourage Others to Create: I ran May Trope Mayhem again, and really stepped up the creation/publishing end of my business. I'll take it. I didn't manage to do anything with the kink memes and I've been waffling on just shutting them down tbh.

Keep Up the Destiel Archive: basically a complete fail. Like, the archive still exists and I answer asks and DMs and send people stuff but I've done basically zero upkeep/expansion/work on it.

Duck Prints Press: we managed 3 anthologies (two are technically not published yet but they will be in like a week and a half and all the work was done in 2022 so I'll count it). We didn't manage a novel, but we did publish a novella and like 20 short stories, so I'll call it a win.

Creative Goals from 2022:

Post Every Day: I managed about two weeks, and haven't written anything for myself since June, so yeah, uh. Yeah.

Work on WIP: nope

Make Progress on The Long Road: ...I thought about it on and off, does that count?

Post One Art Piece a Month: I might have technically actually succeeded at this? but not in way I know I intended when I set the goal and honestly, whatever.

Fibercraft: I didn't manage to cosplay anything - we don't really have the money - but I've definitely been doing fibercraft. I did a mess of crocheting last winter (and need to finish those projects now that it's cold again), and I did a lot of cross stitch over the summer and fall, and I'm currently working on a quilted wall hanging, so. Yeah. I'd call this one a success.

So...definitely a mixed bag. My kids ended up needing a lot more of me than I was expecting, especially over the summer and fall when I'd expected things to ease up, so that didn't help. And the business growing is just eating the entire rest of my life. I've definitely semi-intentionally decided to give up on some of the side projects and step back. Like, I don't like that I'm not doing anything on the Destiel archive, but I've basically come to accept it and I don't expect it to change. In my post last year, I wrote "I sacrificed a lot of my personal creative goals to make the business a success and ya know, I'm basically okay with it." And that really resonates, cause I'd absolutely say the same thing is true of this year. The business IS doing well - we earned more money than last year, and from far more diversified sources. I didn't earn enough to take a paycheck...again...but we're also less in the hole for 2022 than we were for 2021, and it really truly feels like things are moving in a good direction and that the work I'm putting in is accomplishing something. 2023 looks bright in that regard.

I'm honestly trying to move away from big declarative ambitious goals. They just make me feel like I've failed. So I haven't put tons of thought into my 2023 beyond "keep doing the things I'm doing that are working, and try to add in a few things that I haven't been succeeding at but would like to. So, with this entire post plus that in mind, my goals for 2023 are...

Personal Goals

Continue Exercising: I slipped on exercise in November and December. It was definitely doing me good before that so I'd like to keep it up. My goals for a while have been 10 to 20 minutes of stretching/Yoga/floor exercises 5 or 6 days a week, and a minimum of 2,000 steps a day every day, and I hit that very consistently until mid-November, so I think I can resume it now that the holidays are over and the kids are heading back to school on Wednesday.

Study Chinese: just. keep it up. I'd really like to work on a translation project this year. I've been eyeing the Tian Guan Ci Fu manhua (I own volume one in print), continuing my translation of the 2ha manhua (which is online), and/or poking at the Lie Huo Jiao Chou manhua, which is on the Bilibili app and has been taunting me from my favorited comics for ages. But if I just spend another year like I spent 2022, drilling HSK 1 through 3 until I've got them down pat and continuing the slow vocab expansion through DuChinese, I'll take it. It's getting the job done.

Community Goals

Figure out what to keep up and what to step back from: I really haven't been able to do a good job on everything, and I've put some balls down and can't say I'm terribly interested in picking them back up. I'd like to make more of that official in 2023, so I don't feel like I'm being pulled in as many directions, and so that the changes feel intentional and therefore More Okay instead of semi-accidental and accepted with resignation.

Art Sideblog Goals: I'm pretty behind on maintenance of cnovelartreblogs especially; I'd like to really get that organized, and to finally launch the Discord I've been building on-and-off for almost a year. I'd also like to get my backlog of things to blog under 10k, but honestly that's probably ambitious. I had it down a lot this year, but it's surged up since the twitterpocalypse and the holidays (though I'm still well ahead of where I was at the start of 2022, so that's something).

Duck Prints Press:

have 4 anthologies in the works (we already have two in the works for 2023; I expect those two to publish, and I'd like us to have 2 more in the pipeline even though they likely won't publish until 2024)

publish at least 52 short stories (a minimum of one a week)

publish at least 4 novels (I've got two in progress so I'm pretty optimistic on this one)

$40k+ in gross earnings

take a paycheck (even if it's only for royalties on sales of my own work)

publish one story a month of my own work

Creative Goals

Read 12 Books for Leisure: I set this goal in 2022 and while I technically hit it (Goodreads says I read like 70-something books), I only actually read 11 novel-length books because I wanted to. The rest was either manhua, or stuff I read for the Press. So, I've set my Goodreads goal as 72 works, with the understanding that at least 52 will be those short stories I'll edit, and I'm also considering signing up for a book bingo that a friend participates in on Dreamwidth. I don't think I'll have trouble meeting this goal tbh; even if I just read the Seven Seas danmei pubs, which I absolutely intend to, I'll probably hit it (considering I'm several volumes behind on both MDZS and TGCF...). Even if I don't, I'll be close like last year.

Write Something Each Week: I made a list of prompts for myself and ships I want to write for, and I want to try to write something for each prompt each week (in whatever order). Even if I don't finish a single one of them. Even if I hate it all. I just want to keep going on it. I also want to write one short story suitable for publication each month, probably pwp kink fic. (Week 1 is Hualian/were-creature, and I did work out an idea I don't hate...)

Fibercraft: I started blankets for the kids last winter; I'd like to finish at least one of them. And just. Keep making things. It's good for my brain. Much better than the like 6 weeks I spent this year rotting my brain with Merge Dragons at night. *sweat drop*

Anyway, I wouldn't say any of these are resolutions, since most of it is stuff that's already going on. It's really more "I've got the boat sailing the direction I want, now let's just...keep that up..."

Also, it'd be really nice to not be fucking exhausted all the time. That'd help. Just saying. *weary sigh*

#unforth rambles

[elentary]

It's been a month now since I have seen the second season of Good Omens and I think I can finally express what I have been feeling in this period.

Unfortunately, my curiosity (and the fear of spoilers) made me see the whole season in one night (even if my mind was somehow supplying me with the idea that something catastrophic was going to happen before the ending).

I loved the episodes and everyone involved in the project from the main duo to the littlest kid ("I made this pot" was so cute I giggled for a minute).

Some of my headcanon didn't survive this season, like Aziraphale discovering foods earlier on history due to the love infused by baking (but maybe that's due my heritage) and lacking proper heavenly guidelines on consuming earthly matter. But I think I can live without them.

However the ending, which I watched at almost 6:15 (three hours before my work shift), killed me at that moment. I really wanted a nightingale singing again for the angel and the demon.

I knew they couldn't resolve their "problems" with a snap of fingers and in those few years but... ... everything happened, it hurt.

And still does.

Especially since Good Omens has been my "comfort show" (for a good laugh or to remember that there is something good in this world or everything else).

Pretty much two weeks later, I found out that the feeling I had in my heart wasn't something new. Deep down, it was something I had already experienced many years ago, with some books.

When I was seven or eight, during summer, I read this book with my dad (we alternated as readers): I loved it because it was funny, adventurous, fantastic, engaging and had a happy ending (even if there were saddening parts). He told me there was a sequel but he asked me to wait a year to read that because it was more difficult and much much longer.

A year later, my dad kept his promises and borrowed the sequel from our library. He explained to me that it was technically one whole book but it had been divided in three because paper had been scarce when it was published (well to be pedantic those are six books).

At the beginning the "first book" had the same vibe as the "prequel" but it changed, but to me it wasn't a bad thing: I was fascinated how the story deepened and grew. It was so fascinating that sometimes I stole the book from his nightstand to read ahead because I couldn't wait for my father (I stopped -or at least tried to restrain myself- just because he told me that he really loved reading with me, especially seeing my reactions or discussing what was happening with me).

I wasn't outraged at the end of the first book because it has a sort of closure, knowing that one of the characters would have someone to help him in his journey (if you haven't already guessed that, those two were Frodo and Sam at the end of the Fellowship of the ring).

However I was fuming at the end of the second book: the author was killing me because it had split those Sam from Frodo. And it wasn't a "nice" separation. It was this:

"The great doors slammed to. Boom. The bars of iron fell into place inside. Clang. The gate was shut. Sam hurled himself against the bolted brazen plates and fell senseless to the ground. He was out in the darkness. Frodo was alive but taken by the Enemy."

I was divided between rage and sadness: I needed pretty much 180 pages (at that time, a quantity unknown to me) to know what happened next to them. I knew that Tolkien wasn't going to kill Sam and Frodo (I was a relatively smart kid and probably my father "tipped" me on that) but gosh, it was painful waiting to wait (especially since the Hobbit had a happy ending).

Well, that was the same something I experienced for Good Omens.

However this recent one is more painful for a couple of motives:

1) I needed some days to have my answer with LotR and now instead we need at least 4 years from writing (and filming, editing and everything) to the finishing series.

2) there is a strike going on that halts everything (due those Scrooges and cheapskates who don't want to give better working conditions, defines rules and/or limits about A.I., and pay to writers, actors, and everyone involved).

I know that Neil has reassured us many times...

(From FuckYeahGoodOmens)

...and I really hope that everything is going to be alright!

I'm putting all my hope here, believing that this darkest hour for Crowley and Aziraphale will pass, and they'll have their happy ending together, possibly lovingly spending their time in their little cottage in South Downs.

(I had to include this video)

Sorry for the long rant but I needed it!

#good omens #gos2 #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #season 2 #i have hopes #i hope those cheapskates will listen to the authors and actors and everyone involved #because stories are important #and those stories deserve to be adequately compensated #and respecting human rights #Youtube

[thegirlwholied]

I feel like talking about books! but "book I'm currently reading" does not accurately reflect the situation so uh

book I am technically in the middle of but suddenly it's been a couple weeks since I actually opened it: Ruthless Ladies' Guide to Wizardry (it's not that I don't like it! It's that I hit a scene with a dead cat and went "nope not before bed we're not" and the dead cats are in fact a plot point so momentum has not been regained. Also while a standalone I loved Unnatural Magic, the previous book in this world, so much, the different mood of this one has an uphill climb in my heart)

book I've been reading super slowly because it's short stories and I'm savoring each one but I'll also then forget I'm reading it and it'll wind up buried in my to-be-read: Dying with Her Cheer Pants On (I mean to finish this month as tis the spooky season and delaying a read for the right season is also a thing I do)

series reread I started for a new release & petered out on: somehow i still haven't read Rule of Wolves (I was overdue for a complete Grishaverse reread to appreciate it properly but my copy of the 3rd book in the original trilogy is on ye olde nearly-defunct first gen Nook plus I had loaned my copy of Six of Crows at the time, and... oh boy that was April 2021 when the show was first coming out, wasn't it, whoops)

book I thought I finished and then realized at Barnes & Noble honestly can't remember if I did so I better check before I pick up the sequel: The Ex Hex

book I keep meaning to read because 'everyone's read it' but I haven't made it past page 3 yet: Where the Crawdads Sing (haven't seen the movie either because I'm theoretically? going to read the book first)

last book I finished: The Atlas Six (finally got around to it just in time for the sequel to hit soon so will be reading that soon enough)

last book I bought and still haven't started because this is what I let happen when not under a library deadline: Her Majesty's Royal Coven

book I almost just bought because I want to read it immediately but I already have a hold on it at the library and realistically, would I get around to it before that hold omes through: The Golden Enclaves (I will ultimately buy this in paperback as I own the first two, but can I resist until my library hold or will I pull the lever on the e-book purchase for that instant gratification? tbd)

book sequel I almost bought because I own the first one and they'll look pretty together but I should be watching $ this month and also I already have a hold at the library: For the Throne

book that comes out today that I will have to acquire ASAP: Greywaren (I was listening to its playlist already last night but will need to invest some time & likely *emotions* here so may not start it quite as ASAP)

...this is not comprehensive, nor would it be even if I listed the books I've just checked out of the library that may get read before any of the above, but for the sake of assuring myself of my own sanity ahhhhh I think I'm stopping here.

#books #bookblr #to be read #'currently reading' #about me #anyway this seems to be a writing mode week which is a good and lately too-rare thing but when I'm in writing mode very little gets read SO #(even on AO3 which is a whole other reading world) #my currently-watching tv list runs similarly all over the place but in that case it's at least driven by who I'm watching shows with! #anyway resisting the part of my mind that says 'you should reread the Raven Cycle and Dreamers books so far before Greywaren' #the 'all coming back to me now' approach of diving right into a new release serves me far far better

[lexa-griffins]

I wish they had two options. I prefer binging shows. I forget a lot of things when I have to watch on a weekly basis. And shows who release weekly tend to take longer hiatus in the middle too. There’s less continuity. Show’s that release weekly also tend to try and make more episodes. So instead of the 10 episode formula there’s 20-25 episodes and to me that’s too long. Again, there’s more room for continuity errors.

To me, it’s more enjoyable when I can binge a 10-15 ep show in my own time. But I know that’s an unpopular opinion to have. So I wish there were two options. To binge or to not binge. I can always blacklist a tag until I’m able to watch the show. But I can’t keep up when I’ve gotta watch one episode and wait possibly one to four weeks later (depending on if there’s a hiatus or not) until I can see the next episode.

You technically have the two options. If I wanted to watch one episode a week or you want to wait until a season or a show is over to watch it all in one go, that's possible. But it's still not the same^tm for me.

I love the community in fandoms that's built around the collective watching of one episode and the excitement for the next one. I love finishing an episode and the next day waking up and rewatching specific scenes on youtube or if the episode is available already to go an re-watch it. Seeing the same scene re-gifted over and over again because everyone is so excited about it. To me continuity errors are like... minimal detail? Unless it's something obviously big and that affects the narrative and especially if the show has been running for some time, it's almost inevitable unless the show runners are really careful with those.

To give the an example with first kill - I was really excited to watch it. And then it came out - i had no idea it would come out that day - i already knew the beginning, middle and end of it by the end of the day and it wasn't long before we learned it was canceled. And I still haven't watched it because of that and while I still want to im in no rush at this point and by the time I do the fandom will probably be almost dead.

Everyone has different preferences when it comes to this but as someone who cannot keep up to date with things for the life of me, i end up not watching a lot of stuff because everything is consumed, talked about and forgotten in the span of few weeks to a month. I'm in the rwby fandom and we've been on a hiatus of the series going on 2 years now and i still go back to watch episodes and there's always content being made for it. I love the weekly liveblogs and the incoherent posts after every episode it, makes the fandom feel so alive and interactive to me, since fandom and the community around a show is a big reason of why I enjoy watching stuff. I wasn't raised on american shows and weekly updates really, I was raised with portuguese and brazillian telenovelas with daily episodes on week days where you'd go to school and talk about it and if you missed an episode you couldn't watch it anywhere (not until maybe a year later when it would repeat in the afternoon instead of after dinner) so you had to listen to it being re-told to you by the ones who watched it so you could watch the next one. I can barely discuss a show even in person because one friend hasn't seen it, another one is saving it for later, another one has finished and I might be taking it slow.

If I watch 10 episodes in one day then sure, I won't forget what happens from one episode to another but in a month's time I won't remember the show at all!

#letter opened #i hope this doesnt sound like im trying to fight you anon im not #everyone allowed to watch the shows how they want to watch

[obliviousriki]

#my cats #photography #hey yall #its been like half a year or something #figured i'd give people an update #i started college since my last post i think or at least my second semester #which has had me pretty busy at basically all times #im doing engineering if anyones curious #haven't really been playing video games at all lately #there was a period of like three weeks in january/beginning of february where i would get up in the morning and play fallout new vegas #for hours at a time #ive considered trying to take pictures of that game but idk #i still haven't technically finished it and it's been almost two months since i even booted it up #did i get into it because of hbomberguy's video on it? yes #do i plan on playing any other fallout games ever? probably not #but long story short #nothing is happening right now in terms of this blog #and probably nothing will happen for a bit longer #i don't really feel motivated to finish future connected because it was kind of eh from what i played #oh wait i did actually play hours and hours of xcx like four months ago too but i think decided against trying to upload pictures #was more focused on gameplay than anything #plus its a pretty big hassle to upload anything from the wii u #BUT anyways #i still plan on finding new things to post on this blog but just. not for a while #might put more irl photography on here #i'll keep y'all posted

[nonotnolan]

Cuerpo Inc: The Internship

It had taken him a few weeks, but Mark was finally getting used to the office culture at Cuerpo Inc, one of the leading manufacturers of body swapping technology. He hadn't really expected to make a career out of a product that seemed to be used only by the young and the perverted, but the pay was more than worth any sort of stigma that people still had about the relatively new field. Besides, the position had required a Master's in Accounting and a CPA license, and the work was as difficult as it was satisfying. The office culture was… weird, to say the least, but he took it in stride. He was still finishing up with a bitter divorce with his wife of three years, so it was nice to have something to distract him.

"Hey, James," he said, waving at the man standing in front of the bathroom sink. At least, he assumed it was James. It was James's body, at any rate, and it was polite to use the body's name regardless of who was in it. It was hard to tell who was who around the office, but since all of their work was tied to a username and password, it didn't really matter either.

"Hey Mark," came the reply. "How's it going? You excited for intern season? Sign-ups just dropped a half-hour ago. I'm so excited for this year's group."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I can't say I'm excited," he said. "It'll be two months of baby-sitting a bunch of wet-nosed college students who just want to pad their resume. I don't know how we'll be able to train them to do anything useful, since they won't even have a license, let alone a full degree."

James looked confused. "I mean, sure, they're just padding their resumes, but why would we… wait, this is your first intern season, isn't it?"

Now it was Mark's turn to be confused. "Well, sure, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Hah! No wonder," James said, slapping him on the shoulder. "Look, Cuerpo Inc is considered a really forward-thinking and prestigious company, and our internship slots are in high demand. We can set some pretty crazy demands, and we'll still have a bunch of kids clamoring for the spots. They have to give up their body for two whole months in order to work here."

Mark couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in disbelief. "I… two months? What do they even get out of a trade like that?"

"First hand experience," James said, with a wide smile. "It's a modified swap where they get to keep a temporary copy of your work and school knowledge, in addition to all of their own memories. The company doesn't lose any productivity because it's almost like you never left. The intern gets first hand experience having and using relevant industry skills. And you get a two month paid vacation in a body that's in peak physical condition."

"Really, even me? But I haven't even been here for three months yet." Mark couldn't help but bone up at the thought of having a hot, young body for the summer-- it seemed too good to be true.

James just shrugged. "I mean, why not? There isn't a shortage of applicants, and it's not like they're losing any money. During intern season, half your salary goes to the intern, and half your salary goes to you. I guess technically you could keep you paycheck if you opt out of having an intern's body, but… almost no one ever does. Having a hot, young body is totally with the temporary pay cut. My wife loves this time of year, it really helps spice things up in the bedroom. Plus it's nice go out on a weekend bender without having to worry about the Sunday hangover. Anyway, you should sign up before all the best ones get taken."

He finished washing his hands and left, leaving Mark alone to his thoughts. The timing was perfect. His marriage ended when he finally admitted to himself that he was gay, but coming out of the closet and entering the dating pool in his late 30s seemed beyond embarrassing. Getting some dating experience with a body in its early 20s, however…

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

It had only been two weeks, but Mark-- or rather, Tyrel-- was having a great time.

He was grateful for James's tip about checking the sign-ups early. The pool of body builders had gone quickly, and while it would be interesting to have a cute twink's body… he wanted something a bit more traditionally masculine for his first time. The thought of a hairless body just felt like too much of a change. It was weird enough choosing a body with a different heritage, but… well, what was the point in having a new body if you weren't going to rock the boat at least a little bit? Mark had thought looking down at his arms and seeing a new skin color would be the weirdest part of the body swap, but that had stopped surprising him after two days. Honestly, being a few inches taller inside of his home was the part that was throwing him off the most. All of the drawers and cabinets were now slightly lower than where he expected them to be, and it was screwing with his muscle memory.

Mark was surprised at how quickly he was getting used to seeing Tyrel's face in the mirror. It was serving him well on Grindr, too-- it was rare for him to have a night alone unless he wanted one for himself. Mark wasn't sure if Tyrel was gay before the internship, but with eight inches of uncut cock in his pants, it certainly made him popular amongst the local gays.

He normally avoided blank profiles even if they did message him a photo-- he could afford to be picky, after all-- but when he received a message from a blank profile named Mark, he couldn't help but be curious. Sure enough, the first message was a photo of his old body, wearing nothing but a jock strap, ass out toward the camera. "Your body has turned me into an insatiable bottom ;)" he typed. "I've been having bathroom sex after the workplace happy hours, but no one at the office can come close to satisfying this hungry hole. Can you help me, Tyrel? Fill me up with my own cock!"

Mark immediately felt himself getting hard at the thought of ravaging his own body with Tyrel's massive cock. "You got it, Mark. You're clearly begging for this dick. Who am I to deny Daddy what he wants?"

"That's my boy," Tyrel replied. "Bring lube, unless you want to go in raw ;) I've got rope. Room 734, see you soon."

Mark started to take deep breaths, lest he blow his load early. "Damn, and here I was worried Tyrel might not be gay-- dude clearly has way more experience than I do." The thought of having to find more hookups for the next six weeks suddenly looked a lot less appealing. "Hopefully tonight goes well. With any luck, I can just fuck myself for the rest of the internship."

#male body swap #gay body swap #cuerpo inc #after the swap #casual body swap

[arvinsescape]

could you please write something like tom and actress reader obviously like each other but they haven't taken it further yet bc reader is scared it will mess up their friendship but they're still flirting with each other at comic con panels or interviews for spiderman? 🙏

Flirts.

A/N: I love this, thank you so much for sending it in and thank you for your patience in me getting back to you. I hope you enjoy 💕

Warnings: Suggestive content.

You and Tom had been close for years, ever since you met on the set of Civil War, you had a close bond. He was there for some hard points in his life and vice versa, you kept each other grounded. Most people thought you were together, theories that you'd been together for a long time, engaged even, the two of you would laugh it off.

Of course you were in love with him, you had feelings for him, had for a long time. But you had such a close bond that you just couldn't jeopardize, not for anything. You also didn't wanna make things awkward because you had a few films left to film together.

You had a very flirty relationship and this extended to interviews, Zendaya had asked multiple times why you weren't together.

"Z, I've been over this." You groaned, you were in your trailer having a few drinks together.

"Yeah and I'd understand if it wasn't so obvious that you were into each other." She said with a laugh.

"I don't know," you groaned. "Why are you hassling me, he hasn't said or done anything either." You tried to end the conversation.

"I'm talking to you about it, I don't need to talk to Tom, it's so obvious how he feels, no one needs to ask."

"Z, please can we not?"

"You are so close though."

"Which is why I don't wanna ruin it."

"Y/N, I'm close to Tom but you two are different."

**

"So Y/N? Celebrity crush?" The interviewer said.

"I would have to say Tom." You said and Tom looked at you with a wide smile.

"I knew it." He fist pumped the air. "You're mine to." He said with a wink.

"Oh sorry, I meant Hardy." You smirked and Tom almost visibly deflated.

"Well that's my dreams shattered." Tom said and everyone laughed. "I feel emotional wounded."

"Aw it's okay, I'll keep in my heart that I'm your crush."

"I changed my mind."

"No take backs Tom."

**

"I have a question for Y/N." A fan said as they stood up at comic con. "How do you do all those scenes with Tom when he's topless, do you get distracted?"

"Oh massively, all the time. It's a wonder these films ever get finished." You answered as Sebastian laughed.

"In between all the flirting these two do, I agree, it's a wonder we ever finish filming." Anthony chimed in and you laughed. "You should see her face when Tom walks around set, just love eyes all the time." He added.

"That's good to know." Tom laughed as he placed a hand on your knee which sent the fans into a frenzy.

"Like this one can talk," Sebastian said. "He literally looks at her like no one else exists, I am convinced they are dating and it's the best kept secret ever."

"Are you?" The host asked the two of you and everyone watched as you both smiled at each other.

"No." You answered at the same time. "Just really close." Tom added and your heart did a flip, he didn't use the word 'friends' like you expected him to, like he usually did.

"You know, we had to do this scene and Y/N here decided to do her own stunt and somehow knocked herself out," Anthony started and you groaned. "And this one?" He said as he clapped Tom's shoulder. "Wow, you should've seen him, you'd have thought she'd nearly died."

"I was just making sure she was okay." Tom defended himself.

"It's because he's in love with me obviously." You said as you leant your head on Tom's shoulder and he put his head on top of yours.

"Secrets out." He teased, placing a kiss to your head as you laughed and playfully shoved him.

**

"So who's seen Y/N's recent film?" The interviewer asked and almost all the cast raised their hands. "Because there was a lot of her in that." He added.

"Tom's seen it loads, but he always watches it alone." Anthony teased as you laughed.

"It was a good film!" Tom said in defence.

"Oh yeah? Which bit is your favourite." Anthony asked.

"You know the bit with the-"

"Y/N's sex scene?" Anthony interjected as Tom laughed embarrassed.

"Yeah that bit was pretty good." Tom said through a laugh, both of your hands where now covering your face in embarrassment as you shook your head.

**

"So are you both aware that people write fanfiction about the two of you?" The interviewer asked and Tom burst into a fit of giggles, you kept a straight face as you looked at the interviewer.

"Yes."

"Oh really? How'd you know?"

"I write it." You said as a laugh escaped your throat.

"Based on real life events." Tom added and you both burst into laughter as his head fell on your shoulder and a hand rested on your thigh, high enough to get your heart racing.

"Have you ever read any?" The interviewer asked, amused look on his face.

"Oh loads." You said sarcastically.

"It's just about the only reading I do aside from reading a script." Tom snorted.

**

"You and Tom are close?" Graham Norton asked as he pulled up a picture you'd taken and posted to Instagram.

"Yeah, we are." You said with a smile.

"Be honest here, is there anything else going on?"

"No." You shook your head.

"Seriously?"

"Yup. Just really close."

**

It'd been a long day of promo, everyone was quite tired. You yawned as you sat on the couch in the dressing room, Tom joining you.

"You tired?" He asked as he looked at you.

"Yeah." You yawned as you held back another yawn.

"Come here." He said as he coaxed you to lay your head in his lap, something you'd done a thousand times. What you weren't expecting were Tom's hands massaging your scalp and the way you instantly relaxed into it.

"You should get some sleep." He said as he lent over to look at you and gave you a kiss on the forehead, yet another action you weren't prepared for. You were to tired to fight or question it as you felt yourself succumb to sleep.

**

"Now, Y/N L/N," Graham started with. "The last time you were on my sofa I felt lied to." He said and you placed your face in your hand, knowing what was coming as you heard him laugh.

"Did you?" You squeaked out as Graham pulled up a picture from the other night.

"Yes, now if we study this picture for a second. Daniel Radcliffe what would you say is going on here?" Graham teased as you fanned a hand over your face to cool your rising temperature.

"I mean it looks like Y/N's kissing Tom Holland but I could be wrong." Daniel shrugged as the audience and the other celebs burst into laughter.

"It does doesn't it. Y/N, you told me you were close and nothing else was going on but can you tell me what was happening here?" He asked as you looked at him, smiling in embarrassment.

"I, we, I don't." You stuttered out.

"Leave the poor girl alone, she looks like she's about to combust." Emily Blunt defended you as you shook your head and took a deep breath.

"I technically didn't lie, not when I was last here. We really were just friends then." You said.

"So you're not now?" Graham clarified.

"Sorry?" You tried to dodge the question.

"Just friends, you're not just friends now?" He said with that signature grin.

"No." You huffed in defeat as everyone erupted into squeals and cheers.

"When did this happen?" He pried and you smiled.

"Around eighteen months ago." You clarified.

"And who made the first move?"

"He did. Well, no, I suppose we both did." You said. "It was after the last movie came out. We had a bit of an argument about something and the next thing I know we were kissing, I'm not really sure who kissed who first." You said and Graham laughed.

"But now you're official?" Graham asked and you nodded.

"I mean they've been in love for years, trust me. I'm happy they decided to give into it." Robert Downey Jr said from next to you as you smiled shyly. He was here promoting a different movie and it had been good too see him again.

"So is the other rumour true?" Graham asked. To say you'd been together for eighteen months you kept things pretty quiet, both being private people. You never denied the rumours but you hadn't properly confirmed them either.

"What rumour?" You asked, knowing exactly which one he was probably talking about.

"You know," he said as he held his cards up to his face, feigning being discreet. "The engagement rumours?" He said as you placed a hand on your face to hide your embarrassed laugh and smile, holding your left hand up for the audience to see and when they did, they erupted yet again into a fit of screams and cheers.

#tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland x actress!reader

[behindyourbarrette]

like you a latte - matcha latte

← previous | series masterlist | join my taglist | next part ->

pairing: spencer reid x fem reader

a/n: SURPRISE i felt like dropping this a DAY early!!lololololol but here it is! i appreciate the love on the last two parts so so soooo much :) can’t beliEVE WE ARE HALFWAY DONE!! reblog if u enjoyed

—

Needless to say, Twilight Time isn’t very crowded on Thursday afternoons. 

You rarely pick up closing shifts anymore—for reasons totally unrelated to the doctor who almost exclusively arrives in the morning—but you’re covering for Sally, and it’s a nice day out. The rain has let up in favor of mild weather, the sun just barely peeking through the clouds as people drift past the shop. Despite the fact that there’s more foot traffic on the street, not many people come in to order. You don’t blame them. Why have hot coffee on a day like this?

Your back is turned when you hear a group enter, and your heart soars at the prospect of tips. For whatever reason, most people are more inclined to tip when they know their friends are watching. You call out to let them know you’ll be right with them, and after you’re done fidgeting with the settings of the coffee grinder, you turn. 

It’s Spencer. But he’s not alone.

There are a total of four people before you, each intimidating you in slightly different ways. They’re all agents, as evidenced by their not-so-concealed carries. You recognize a few of the characters. Spencer’s told you about JJ, who you assume to be the friendly blonde, and Penelope, who is a vision in fuchsia. That leaves Emily, who’s whispering to JJ, eyes fixed on you. You try to absorb the sight, them together. Spencer looks at ease, a wide smile on his face as he looks between you and the group.

“Hey, Spencer. These your coworkers?” You crack a nervous smile, knitting your fingers together. He nods, introducing them each in turn. JJ grins in your direction, and Penelope waves at you with a fingerlessly-gloved hand. Emily reaches across the bar to shake your hand. You get the sense that there’s something Spencer hasn’t told you.

“What can I get you guys?”

Spencer shrugs, defaulting to JJ and Emily. Penelope pipes up, eyes bright as she peers at the menu above you.

“Do you have matcha, sweetheart? I’ve been meaning to try that. It’s great for your skin.” You nod, pulling a cup out and inscribing Penelope’s name on it. JJ and Emily both order americanos, exchanging a sheepish grin. After setting their cups aside, you turn to Spencer.

“Genius, you should really try the matcha. It’ll give you brain power. Not that you need any more.” Penelope does jazz hands to emphasize her excitement, and Spencer shrugs. You watch them interact for a moment before you realize he’s turned to you for your approval.

“Oh. I really like matcha. It’s green tea, and a matcha latte tastes light and sweet. I think you’d like it.” He nods, and orders it hot. Penelope orders iced; you smile as you consider that they compliment each other, eventually turning away to prepare everyone’s drinks. They’re all relatively simple, and you manage to include latte art in the hot drinks. Spencer’s is last, and you flick your wrist to finish the design. Crossing the bar, you hand each agent their drink in turn. 

Penelope sips at her drink first, the bright green matching one of her rings perfectly. Spencer eyes his dubiously, poking at it with a wooden stirring stick. 

“It’s very green.” He whispers to Penelope, who cackles in response. 

JJ catches your eye as you watch, lingering between the bar and their seats. With a smile, she waves you over. 

“You’ve totally ruined other coffee for Spence. We had to come try it for ourselves.” She whispers, leaning down. You aren’t sure how to feel about her tone; there’s a glint of something in her eye, something playfully secretive. You’re not sure what part of this you’re not in on.The idea of Spencer mentioning you at all is foreign—sure, you’ve told your roommates, and your coworkers found out that you do, in fact, have a favorite regular. Still, you never considered the idea that you bleed into other parts of his life. You steal a glance at him while JJ compliments her americano. He’s sipping at his matcha, a green mustache left behind. 

“You have a magic touch, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve ever had coffee this good in the states.” Emily flashes you a grin as if she can sense your nervousness. You relax a little, asking her about her work abroad instead of getting lost in your head. She strikes you as a diplomat, and a compliment from her feels like something to be savored. Penelope raves to you about the health benefits of matcha, and you immediately feel welcomed by her. If you were to run a study comparing the approachability between pink polka dots and pantsuits, you're sure that polka dots would win.

“Are you an agent, too?” You ask, stirring your own iced coffee with a straw. Eyeing the clock, you’ve decided that this counts as your break. Tyler be damned. Penelope giggles, shaking her head.

“Oh God no. Well, technically. I’m a technical analyst, so I work on the computer and tech end of things.” She explains, and you nod. It makes a lot of sense. While both JJ and Emily exude the energy of most cops—authoritative, with a critical eye—Garcia does’t fit that mold. It’s this that draws you to her.

You learn that JJ has a son named Henry, a surprisingly Southern boyfriend to match, and that Emily has a cat named Sergio. Despite their highbrow titles, you don’t feel out of place. It’s easy to sip at your coffee, the cup cool against your fingertips, and listen.

“Are you in school? Spence mentioned that you majored in literature.” JJ sets her cup down, flexing her fingers against the air. You feel yourself flush now that the attention is on you. The fact that he chose this detail to divulge sticks between your ribs. You haven't told him much about your work—he insisted on reading your thesis, and even reread the source material to better discuss it with you—but apparently, what you have discussed has made an impression.

“Yeah, actually. I’m in my second year of law school.” You admit. Emily nods in approval, reaching out to high five you.

“Damn. With all the assholes you deal with in customer service, you’ll make a great attorney.” You high five her with a small smile on your face, stealing a glance at Spencer. He seems elated, clearly enjoying the dynamic he’s observing.

“Do you want to go into criminal law?”

JJ asks, eyes wide with curiosity. You shake your head ruefully. They take it well, shrugging their shoulders. To their credit, their branch of law enforcement deals with the process prior to prosecution. You shudder at the idea of what happens after they catch the bad guys.

“No, not really. I’m looking at either the entertainment or environmental sector.”

The group murmurs, and the conversation devolves into small talk about law. You look to Spencer for an escape, and he suggests that they take a walk. Once the girls have trickled out of the room, each hugging you goodbye, you’re left alone with Spencer.

“Hey.”

You laugh at the simplicity of his greeting, turning to toss your empty coffee cup into the trash. Spencer flushes a deep shade of red, raking his hands through his hair.

“Your friends aren’t how I expected. Really cool, though. Especially for like, Quantico professionals.” You wipe the counter down, and the reality that you’re on the clock hits you, a little dizzily. Did his coworkers really just want to meet Spencer’s barista? The realization tastes a little bitter, and you bite back any further questioning in favor of looking up at him.

“Yeah. They’re like family.” He looks out the window, hands deep in his pockets. His whole demeanor is stiff, and you resist the urge to reach out and force his shoulders down from his ears.

“Did you like the matcha? I wasn’t sure you would. I used the oat milk you like.” Slowly, he relaxes. With a small smile, he nods.

“It was good. I like most teas, I’m finding. It wasn’t too sweet.” You add matcha to the mental list you keep, of drinks he likes. It’s become your mission to expand it. In the months since he started branching out, you’ve managed to add a few drinks to his core rotation. 

“You know you’re one of my friends too, right?”

This catches you off guard. You pause in the motion of sweeping the floor, carefully raising your eyes to meet his. While nervous, he sounds sincere. When met with your silence, he continues.

“I just wanted you to know.” 

You nod carefully. The implications of this are something you’ll consider later, when you’re alone. He’s only confirming something you’ve already known, but something about it stings. The word crosses your mind briefly, but it sticks. It’s bittersweet.

“I know.” Your voice is low, soft against the din of the coffee shop. Spencer doesn’t look satisfied, opening his mouth to say something then closing it again. He glances between you and the window.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

taglist:

@everyonesfavoritepipecleaner @coldlilheart @idonotexiste @aberrant-annie @onyourfingertips @bakugouswh0r3 @uptowngotmedown @infinite-tides @chaosconcerns @littlewritersinspace​ @okivia @forever-not-gonna-sink​ @insert-gay-here​ @just-another-persona123​ @winniemjf **if tags don’t work, check your visibility settings

#i am spoiling y'all #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid series #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #i just love the idea of spence bringing the girls to like #be like LOOK #shEs REAL! #hence this chapter #anyways #rory writes #likeyoualatte

[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe haven.

A/N: Don’t mind me, just giving J a normal high school romance--one where his family is not involved. Set in S1 of Animal Kingdom. First time writing for this guy, so let me know what you think 

Pairing: Josh Cody x Black!OC

Rating: 💙 A soft piece with the youngest Cody, and the girl he tries to keep secret from his new found family. 

Request: Convincing J to study bc he's too caught up in the family business to worry about midterms

Words: 3.3k

Josh tightens his grip, crushing the letter in his hand. Left inside the unaddressed envelope, the letter remains unread. There is no point in reading it. J got the gist of the letter from the conversation with the counselor. He discards the crumpled mess in a nearby trash can.

The end of the school week produces a flood of excited teenagers emptying into the parking lot.

J's mind is on the previously discarded letter.

It was a letter of truancy, addressed to his grandmother, his current guardian. It has been months since the passing of J's mother. The school's patience has spread thin. His grades have not dropped, but his attendance has.

His mind is on the letter when he fishes his keys out of his front pocket. His pace slows before he comes to a complete stop a few feet short of his truck. The truck is where he left it, but there's a new addition.

It now has a powder blue backpack on the hood. Seated beside the backpack is the prettiest girl in school.

Cori Edwards has a familiar pair of black shades concealing her dark brown eyes -- now J remembers where he left them. She has abandoned the denim jacket he caught a glimpse of her in earlier. A knowing smile spreads across her face as she watches his eyes linger on the sundress she wears. As his eyes return to hers, J can't deny the smile on his lips.

The last time he saw Cori, for longer than the brief seconds they pass in the halls, was a month ago. This year, it appeared fate wanted to test the two. They had the same classes, the same teachers, but never at the same time. A few months ago, this meant they spent all of their free time stealing kisses at lunch and in the halls. They would then make up for lost time as soon as the school bell rang.

But things have changed too much. 

J's mother didn't keep track of his movements. His grandmother and uncles, J came to learn, analyze his actions. Keeping secrets has become second nature to him since moving into the Cody House. The one secret he swore he'd never reveal was Cori. He hasn't introduced her to Smurf or his uncles. He hasn't shared much about how his life has changed, upon his moving into their house, with Cori.

After so many vague responses, Cori understood it was better not to ask questions. She didn't want to spend her limited time arguing with J. Only, in the last month their limited face time has dwindled. Fizzed out to nothing.

A few texts here. A few long spread out phone calls there.

It was after one of those texts that their last reunion had taken place.

J might have been slightly drunk -- sober enough to drive, and park his truck a block from Cori's parent’s house. He had climbed through her bedroom window. The act itself was not graceful. His tumble through the window at three am woke her dad. Her dad came in to find Cori “still sleeping,” the toppled over AP Calculus and Physics books on the floor enough incentive for him to return to bed.

Once the coast was clear, J managed to strip before climbing into bed alongside her. All she received was a quick kiss before his arm was around her. He was out before his head hit the pillow. He left Cori with no time to inquire about his reasoning behind showing up drunk. Or about the black eye and busted lip. He had to sneak out in the morning before her parents got up.

Rumor has it J’s been showing up to school, even if Cori's rarely seen him there. He shows up for three days, almost like clockwork. Technically, it is enough to stop the school from legally reporting him for truancy. Until the counselor concluded it was time J stopped playing that game--which brings us to J's current situation.

He's standing in the parking lot, keys in hand, staring at his girlfriend -- at least he thinks she's still his girlfriend. Is it weird if he leads with that question?

As he stands before her, the only thought in his mind is how much he's missed her smile.

Jingling the keys in his hand, J regards the innocent smile on Cori's lips before shaking his head.

“You got a tracker on me, I don’t know about, Edwards?”

“Nope. It’s just a Cody sighting is kind of a big deal in these halls,” Cori sighs lightly as her eyes pass over the crowded parking lot. “Word gets around pretty fast when you actually show up.”

Cori’s words don't receive a verbal response. Her eyes are covered, but J knows what look lies inside them. The look causes his eyes to avoid hers. His hand rubs against the back of his neck, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

"Haven’t seen you around lately, Josh." She continues, the warmth of her fingers against his chin lifting J's gaze. Cori raises her sunglasses, her eyes passing over his face. "Nice to know your black eyes is gone."

"Yeah--sorry about that night." The smile on his lips is sheepish as he watches her study his face. He mentally kicks himself for the following line--he knows it's getting old. He says it anyway. "I had some family stuff-"

"That left you drunk with a black eye and busted lip?"

J takes in her raised brow, his shoulders sink.

What can he say?

I got my ass kicked after I was caught in the act of stealing some guy's car. Granted, my uncle saved my ass, but not before I got a black eye and busted lip?

No. He can't say that.

If he does, then he would have to explain why he was stealing a car in the first place. And that is a rabbit hole J isn't willing to jump down--not with her.

The passing of her fingers through his hair causes J to speak up.

"Sorry. I know you're tired of bullshit excuses." He shakes his head.

"I'm used to it," Cori sighs, her hands falling to her lap.

Before he can stop himself, J's hands are on her thighs pulling her closer. His lips are on hers.

"I'm sorry. You look nice," he smiles as his lips press a second kiss against hers.

"Hmm?"

"I’m serious," he chuckles as his hand finds her waist.

"Trust me, I know it’s true," she laughs. "I’m just trying to figure out why it’s taken you so long to say it."

"I’ve been busy," he begins. "With-"

"Family stuff," Cori nods, her hand waving to dismiss the subject. "I know, but that's not what I tracked you down for. I have so graciously blessed you with my presence because you owe me two things."

"What are they?" J's brow arches, a soft smile on his lips.

Cori drops her hand for his cheek. J's eyes remain on her as she leans back, weight resting against her palms.

"I need a ride home," she lightly pats the hood of the car. "And I need a study buddy."

J lets off a light scoff at the latter.

If there is one undisputed fact, it is Cori's academic ranking. She is top of their class. Between the two, J needs a study buddy to catch up to her perfect GPA.

"Okay. When?"

"Tonight, genius," her eyes roll as she pushes against his shoulder. "Josh, please don’t tell me you forgot we have midterms Monday."

J's eyes briefly drift shut.

"Shit--I have a family thing tonight."

"When?” Cori smiles as his eyes pass over the parking lot. The corners of J's lips turn up into a smile before his gaze returns to hers. “I’m just saying...it’s technically not nighttime yet…and being as you haven't seen me in ten thousand years...the least you can do is study with me...”

"What’s it gonna take for me to get out of this?"

Cori pauses to think.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Shaking her head, Cori smiles as her hands find his shoulders. "There is absolutely nothing that you can give me for me to drop this."

"Damn."

"Unless,” Cori bites back her smile as her playful eyes meet his. “You want to tell me how much you missed me.”

“If that’s it,” J sighs, his lips stopping short of hers, “You might want to go ahead and find another ride home--”

“Shut up,” she giggles as his hands find her waist.

Helping her down, J steals a kiss before following Cori to the passenger side of his truck.

"I'm just giving you a ride home."

"Uh-huh." Turning to face him, she smiles as his lips press against hers.

She allows him a second kiss as J's arm wraps around her waist.

“To sweeten the deal,” she beams. “I’ll even let you take me out.”

"What is it?"

Cori's eyes remain on the surfers visible from the parking lot. She watches the girl who manages to ride the swell longer than the rest of the group. When she glances across the truck, she discovers J watching her. 

"What do you mean?" 

A low chuckle escapes J as he watches Cori busy herself with the task of finishing her milkshake. 

"What's on your mind?"

Despite her asking him to stop and grab something to eat, Cori hasn't said much to J. Even if she had, he knew her well enough to grasp Cori was waiting to ask him something. Her brown eyes raise to meet his gaze before she lets out a breath. 

"It's kinda stupid."

"Coming from you?" His brow arches as his fingers interlace with hers. "I doubt it."

Cori's gaze remains on their interlaced fingers as she speaks.

"It's just, the winter formal is coming up. I figured we could go together."

She glimpses up once her suggestion is met with silence. J's brow is a furrowed, a hesitant smile on his lips. 

His thoughts are racing--he's praying this is the initial time she's breached the subject. That he hadn't missed any hints in his haze the past weeks.

"Seriously? You never want to go to those things."

Cori's eyes roll. J's right. In the last two years, neither of them have attended the school’s dances. 

She bites her lip before opting to take another sip of her strawberry shake. 

"You really wanna go?" A light shrug is what J gets in response. "If you want to go, I'll go."

"It's just--we're going to be done with school soon. We have to go to at least one--"

"And prom?"

"That's not up for debate. Your ass is taking me to prom, Joshua Cody." Cori laughs as J's lips press against her fingers. 

J's smile fades as a ringtone interrupts the conversation. He releases Cori's hand before retrieving his cellphone from the truck's console. 

She silently observes as he reads the name on the screen. 

Baz. 

She remembers the name--he is one of J's uncles--but that's where her knowledge ends. The furrow of J's brow sets in as he declines the call.

“So...this family thing," she notes, as his eyes meet hers. Before she can get the rest of her thought out, a text comes through recapturing J's attention. "It must be pretty important.”  

J's shrug seems outlandish when held alongside the urgency of his uncle. In the time it took to eat, J's phone has got several notifications. Each time, he pauses long enough to silence the call and proceeds as if it never came. 

“It’s just a thing with my uncles.” His mood is light as he sets the phone back down. His easiness returns as he meets her eyes. "Smurf's pretty serious about everyone being home for it." 

He can notice the slight hesitance in her eyes before she offers him a smile in return.

Leaning across the car, J presses a kiss against her cheek. His lips drift to her neck. 

"I'll get the tickets Monday," he mumbles as his lips retrace their steps. "Promise."

J's truck is parked engine idling. His left-hand rests against the steering wheel, his eyes on her.

Cori has removed her seatbelt. Her body is turned in the seat so that she faces J. She toys with the hem of her dress instead of moving to get out.

"It was good to see you, J."

"Yeah," J agrees. Her eyes lift to meet his, the soft smile on his lips stretching into a grin. "You too."

J opens his mouth to continue the thought, but Cori has already turned away from him. He watches as she retrieves her backpack from the back seat.  

"Cori," J clears his throat. The action hinders Cori's opening of the door. Her hand hovers over the handle. "Maybe we can hang-"

"Nope.”

J blinks. His brow furrows as a silence falls over the car.

"If you want to see me again," Cori teases, her hand falling from the handle. "It will be in school."

"Why do I have a feeling you're not gonna let this go?" J's eyes roll softly as Cori leans across the car. "You’re serious?" 

"Because I'm not letting this go," she smiles sweetly, ignoring the chuckle the action pulls from J. "And, I'm 'lock my window' serious, Josh. Show up if you want, and I’ll leave you outside."

The smile on Cori's lips grows as J's gaze falls from hers. His tongue passes over his lips as she leans closer.

His eyes drift shut as her giggle fills the car before Cori presses a kiss against his cheek. She leaves a second kiss before moving away. Hopping out of the truck, Cori slips her backpack onto her shoulders.

"Think about what’s important to you, Cody," she beams before shutting the door.

J picks up his phone. The screen lights up as a new text message appears.

6 missed calls. Baz

7 missed texts. Baz

1 missed text. Craig

He opens the most recent notification from Craig.

Dude. Call Baz back so he'll stop losin his shit. You know we got that thing tonight

Cori is in the process of unlocking the door when she hears the sound of his car door slamming. Looking over her shoulder, she smiles as J crosses the driveway backpack over his shoulder.

"Two hours,” he concedes. J is powerless to the tug of her hand as Cori pulls him inside. “Then I have to go. Baz is blowing up my phone.”

"Then we better get started."

J's fingers comb through his hair, the brown eyes trained on him forcing him back to reality.

Judging by the look on Cori's face, this is not the first time she has spoken. Heat rushes to his face as J's gaze reverts to the stack of notecards in his hands.

"Uh--yeah," he clears his throat as he shifts in the computer chair. "That's right."

He steals a second glance at her, the smile on Cori's lips not helping with his current situation.

"Of course it is," she winks. Her gaze returns to the review sheet. She stops to make a note alongside the term The Baroque.

The two are currently in the midst of an AP European History review.

J isn't much help, but Cori doesn't need it. Each of her responses is correct. That's good for J. He's spent the last thirty minutes distracted.

It's a good thing Cori claimed the bed, laying on her stomach as she pulled out her notebook. J took the computer chair opposite of her. If Cori had let him join her on the bed, no studying would have taken place.

It doesn't matter that a month has passed. J hasn't been able to keep his eyes off Cori Edwards since her arrival freshman year.

A smile creeps across his face as J's eyes meet Cori's for a second time.

"You need a break, Cody?" The grin on her lips widens as Cori rests her chin in her hand. "You seem distracted."

"Just thinking about how you don't need these." J lifts the cards in his hands before discarding them on the nearby desk. "You never have."

"Hmm..." Cori's eyes return to the review sheet. She pauses to add more to the notes written neatly in the margins. "True, but you do."

Pushing herself up, she passes over the review sheet. Written neatly in the top right-hand corner is J's name.

"I made this for you Tuesday night."

J studies the sheet for a moment, his fingers massaging his temple as he takes in Cori's study guide.

Shit--she's right. He does need it. He missed the review session on Tuesday. The thing about AP Euro is that it's not as straight forward as Trig. J can ace his Trig midterm in his sleep. AP Euro is a whole separate story.

"Thanks, Cori," he sighs. The grateful look in his eyes as he watches her cross the room earns him a warm smile. "You didn't have to-"

"Oh, trust me, I know." Taking his hand in her, Cori lowers herself down onto his lap. "But, I know you have a lot going on. Besides, making the sheet helped me review for the test."

"I love you. You know that?"

"As you should." Taking his face in her hands, Cori smiles as J meets her gaze. She closes the remaining distance between their lips. "I love you too."

As her lips drift to his neck, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt, J pushes her dress up her thighs.

"I thought we were studying," he chuckles, his lips returning to hers.

"We're taking a break," she giggles. "You’re useless when you’re distracted."

When he wakes, J knows he’s overstayed. He was meant to leave by four. It’s four thirty. 

The cellphone, humming on the surface of Cori’s desk, sounds through the bedroom. J doesn’t lift his head from the pillow. Instead, he watches her face scrunch in irritation as the sound gradually pulls Cori out of her sleep.

“You gotta go?” She breathes, her eyes remaining shut as she tries to fall back to sleep.

“I should,” he chuckles. His finger traces the curve of Cori's shoulder. “Your parents will probably be home soon.”

“You’re right.” A soft giggle follows as J's arm wraps around her waist, pulling her body across the bed. “You should probably go.”

Despite his words, J makes no move to leave the bed. He sinks his face into her neck. His weight presses her into the mattress as her arms wind around his neck. He stays there for almost ten minutes. His eyes closed, listening to the delicate pattern of her pulse. Neither says a word. Cori knows the time has come to let him go when J presses a soft kiss against her skin before forcing himself up.

“I have some family shit I gotta handle,” J huffs as his palms rub against his eyes. “So, um, I probably won’t be on my phone for most of the weekend.”

“Okay.”

J proceeds to redress, his body in no rush to leave, as his phone starts again.

He needs to go. Now.

J has prolonged his return to reality, and the Cody House, long enough. If he doesn’t call back shortly, Smurf might have a heart attack.

J tugs his t-shirt over his head. His eyes focus on the bedroom window. He’s shocked Smurf's car is not parked out front. It wouldn’t be the first time his grandmother has tracked him.

“I just meant--I might not be able to pick up if you call,” he crosses the room to meet Cori. The faint smile on his lips brings one to her. “You can text me.”

“Maybe,” Cori sighs as J's lips caress her cheek. “If I have time. I’ll have to check my schedule.”

She catches sight of his sparkling eyes before J’s lips are on hers. The kiss itself is soft, another step in his lingering goodbye. His lips linger against hers before pressing against hers a final time.

“Hey,” J pulls back, his fingers interlacing with hers. He gently squeezes her hand as she meets his gaze. “Thanks for today. I missed you.”

“You too.”

“I’ll text you later,” J smiles before retrieving his phone and backpack.

Main Tags: @wiccanmetallicrose @themarkblues @mariaxliliana @gemini0410​ @binooo98​ @the-jer-bear​ @abbiesthings​ @trhett21​ @trulysuccubus​ @leahnicole1219​ @keithseabrook27​ @starrynite7114​ @awkwardtayler​ @toni9​ @vannabanana1995​ @queenbeered​ @kaystacks17​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @star017​ @richonne4life​ @cocotheclown​ @oscars-wifeyyy​ @rosieposie0624​ @jennisdirtyimagines​ @ughdontbeboring​ @partypoison00​ @myakai13​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @demonquartz​ @ourlittlesecretsoveragain​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @linziland13​ @mrsmarvelous1995​ @sadeyesgf​

#all of his relationships irritated me #let me know what you think? #j cody #j cody imagine #finn cole imagine #animal kingdom imagine #josh cody imagine #ryan destiny faceclaim #ryan destiny #black!oc

[lokis-army-77]

If You Please

Chapter Sixteen

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4790

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Alcohol, abuse, angst I think.

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Masterlist

We had been living in Romania for two months since that first night, and it wasn't easy, especially for Bucky. The nightmares still plagued him and in the hopes of warding them off, he would stay up days on end, only to crash out in the quiet dark hours of the night. I would always wake up when he started to thrash about and shout, always ready to comfort him. I wish I could say they are getting better but that would be a lie.

I had finally gotten the mattress cleaned a few weeks into our stay and tried to get Bucky's to sleep on it, instead of the hard floor, but he refused, only giving a curt response saying that he brought it for me. If I fell asleep anywhere other than on that mattress, I would wake up on it later on.

Bucky wouldn’t stay away for as long now, only choosing to leave the apartment when we needed food or other necessities. I saw this as him building trust with me, which I was glad to have. He even started to ask me questions, writing everything I would tell him down into the small notebook I gave him a few weeks back. I knew writing things helped when Steve and I came out of the ice so I thought that it may help him to uncover some of his memories. From the questions he would ask me and the short stories he would sporadically recall, I knew something had to be working.

Today had been like any other day, we both went out to gather some things that we might need and then quickly made our way back to the apartment. I was lounging out on the raggedy loveseat we had brought back about three weeks ago, reading a book when my attention was pulled away from it by the sound of my name.

“Uh-huh?” I confirmed while flipping the page.

“Can you come here for a second?”

And that's when it clicked, Bucky said my name. “Wait a second, you just said my name,” I observed astonished, slamming the book closed and looking at him.

“I know, I need you to come here” he replied back, turning his body in the dining chair to look at me in annoyance.

“No, hang on. You’ve been calling me ‘hey’ for the past two months.” The only time he called me by my name was when he was deep in a nightmare, he never consciously said it.

“I-” he stopped to think. “I think I just remembered it, it just came out.”

“That's great, Buck. It’ll take a little time but I know soon you’ll be remembering things that I can't even recall.” He gave a faint smile at that. “Now what is it that you needed?”

“Uh.. never mind, I think I’ll ask you about it later.” He said, withdrawing back into his shell somewhat.

“Are you sure?” I asked. He didn’t answer, just turned back to scribble in his notebook. I gave him a soft look before opening my book back up and continued to read.

Later on that same week I was humming a song while cooking some eggs and bacon on the stove. Bucky was still somewhat peacefully asleep on his floor pallet. Carefully I grabbed the bright green spatula on my right and scooped up the crispy bacon from the pan to place it on two plates. After dumping most of the grease out I turned the heat to low and cracked a few eggs into the pan, scrambling them as soon as they started to turn white. Thankfully they didn’t take that long and I was able to scoop them up and plate them in just over a minute. I wiped my hands off on the small towel on the counter. Picking up both plates and their silverware, I quietly made my way to where Bucky was sleeping and knelt down. I sat the plate in my left hand on the floor beside his head and he slowly opened his eyes. Groaning, he lifted the heels of his palms to rub the sleep from them.

“Good morning Buck, I made your favorite.” I waited for him to sit up before handing him the plate in my right hand.

“What was that song you were humming earlier? It sounded familiar,” he said as he carefully took the plate of food. I grabbed mine off the floor and maneuvered myself so I was sitting on the ground beside him.

“It was ‘If You Please’, a Bing Crosby song. We used to dance to it during the war.” I watched him as he nodded while also shoveling eggs into his mouth.

“Oh,” he looked at his now empty fork, “I don’t remember how to dance.

An idea came to me as I picked up a piece of bacon. “What if, after we eat breakfast, I show you.” Then I bit into the piece of bacon, chewing as he looked at me with wide eyes, almost as if he thought I were being crazy.

“But-” He started.

“No buts, I think this will be good, it may help you remember if you can do something that you used to do, maybe it will help to jog your memory,” I said as I started on my eggs.

“Okay.” he let out, sounding very unsure.

After we had eaten and the dishes had been stacked into the sink, we both worked on moving the mattress and his cot out of the middle of the floor. When the floor was clear of anything that we could somehow trip over I dragged him into the middle and placed my hands onto his shoulders.

“Okay, now you put your hands on my waist,” I instructed. He hesitantly placed his hands a little high on my hips, I smiled at him before moving my hands down to correct his placement. “Let's move them down a little. There,” I said, as I brought my hands back up to his shoulders.

“Um, now what?” He questioned, looking everywhere but at me. I could see a tinge of pink rising to his cheeks.

“Now, I’ll sing the song and lead the dance, you just follow my movements,” I told him softly before straightening my back and hooking my arms around his neck. I then began to quietly sing the words to the song, humming at the parts where words were not needed.

The dance started off slow as Bucky looked at both of our feet and copied each step that I took. He took small unconfident steps, but he was still as graceful as he was in the past. Looking up at his face I noticed how concentrated he was. His brow was pulled in tight, looking almost like he was angry, and the very tip of his tongue was visible through his lips as he bit down on it.

We danced until I was finished with the song, but Bucky kept going. I felt the shift of when he took control of the dance and I was no longer leading him. His left hand removed itself from my waist and up to grab my right one from around his neck. His right hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. My heart sped up a little at this, we haven't been this close in years and it almost felt like the forest time we went dancing together.

I started to hum another slow song as Bucky led me around the living room, through a series of spins. At some point, my head came to rest on his chest while my left arm wrapped itself under his as we held each other close. His chin was barely resting on the top of my head.

“Thank you.” I heard him barely whisper. I faltered in my steps and hummed, but he kept me from tripping.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“Just- thank you for helping me remember some of the good things.” he choked out. “This,” he moves his head to reference what we were doing, “this has helped. I don’t remember it all, but flashes of us dancing are coming to mind. There’s someone with you in a stunning blue dress in a bar somewhere, I think it’s in London, I could be remembering wrong.”

I smiled widely, knowing exactly what he was remembering. “You're right, it was London. That was right after we found you-” I trailed off, realizing that if I said more about finding him in the HYDRA base it might ruin the moment.

The dancing slowed until we were just standing in the middle of the room completely still. Bucky coughed awkwardly and then let me go before walking over to the dining table and snatching up his backpack. “I’m- I’m uh going- out. I’ll be back in a while.” He let out before quickly rushing to the front door and down the stairs. I watched after him with a woeful look.

It had been almost six hours since Bucky had left and the apartment was getting more boring by the minute. I had already put the mattress and Bucky’s pallet back in their spots, I had cleaned and even showered. When I realized he wasn’t going to be home any time soon, I decided to go on a run. Something I hadn’t done in a while.

Bucky and I had decided that until the news of what had happened with SHIELD and the fact that all of their secrets were out in the open, including ones that had both of us included in them, died down, we probably both shouldn't leave the apartment at the same time. That way it would be less likely for us to be spotted.

It had only been two months but it had been a while since I had seen any news or heard any talk of us or the events in January. So I quickly got dressed in some warm running clothes and a blue beanie to keep my hair hidden, in hopes that it would help keep people from recognizing me.

Then I was off, bounding down the several flights of stairs and out the side door of the very old apartment building. It was almost one-thirty and the streets were busy, so I wasn’t able to go at full sprint. But the average run was wonderful. The cool air hitting my face was just what I had needed after being cooped up all day.

I had only been running for maybe twenty or thirty minutes when I started to feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to stand and goosebumps started to cover my arms. Nothing ever crossed my mind other than it being super cold out, so I paid no attention to it. Running some more I came to a long dark alleyway between several tall buildings. Right as I turned off of the sidewalk and into the alley I felt something grab my hand.

I turned in surprise, swinging my free arm to try and take out whoever had placed their hands on me. The attempted punch was futile as that hand was caught by a large gray metal hand. Looking up at the person, I recognized Bucky. His hood was up over his ball cap and his hair was dangling in his face.

“Oh, it's just you,” I let out a sigh of relief. I tried to take my hands out of his grasp but he only held on tighter.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” he almost yelled.

“I went on a run because I was bored and alone.”

“We agreed to not go out at the same time.” He was looking at me furiously and I swore if he were any madder, smoke would be billowing from his ears.

“I’m sorry but you have been gone for six hours.”

“I came back and you weren't there. I looked everywhere and then I spotted you, running.” He softened for a second.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t leaving you. I just needed to get out of there for a while. I was being careful, nothing would have happened.” I smiled up at him, but it quickly fell when turned away from me quickly.

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT,” he bellowed out, slamming his metal hand into the bricks right next to us. I flinched at that as old memories flashed behind my eyes. “You don’t know that,” he said more calmly. He reached out for my hand and started to lead me back to the apartment. “Come on, let's get off the street.” I just followed him silently.

After getting back to the apartment, I went straight into the bathroom without a word and started running the water for a shower. When the water was scalding hot I took my clothes off and stepped in. The water hit my chest and neck before I turned around to wet my hair. I stood under the running water for what felt like forever before I felt my eyes start to burn and tears started to spring out and mix with the shower water.

I hated how I felt at the moment like I was back to being the helpless little kid that I used to be. Huddled under the dining room table, clinging onto Steve as I cried. I hadn’t had the slightest relapse in years and just the way that Bucky had yelled and slammed into the wall had flung back to when I was five.

I slowly washed myself off and continued to let the water rush over me until it began to run cold. When I finally got the tears to stop flowing, I turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing one of the towels off of the rack and drying off. I dressed in a sweater and a pair of sweatpants I had grabbed before coming into the bathroom. After that, I wrapped the towel I had used around my wet hair and then stepped out into the cold air of the living area.

I slowly padded my way to the fridge, I paid no mind to Bucky, who was sitting across the love seat. Opening the fridge door I rummaged through what we had before settling on grabbing the milk container. I sat it on the counter beside me as I reached above me to grab the box of half-empty cereal from the top of the fridge. Then I went over to the sink to wash one of the two bowls we had before making my dinner.

When I had finally finished making my bowl of cereal, I noticed it getting darker, which made me realize the earlier event had drained me more than I thought.

Settling down into the mattress, I laid on my side and gathered the extra length of the blanket into my arms. Bucky was fast asleep behind me on his pallet and pretty soon I fell asleep as well.

I opened my eyes to the sun shining straight into them. I could hear loud banging noises coming through the door of the tiny room I was in. I realized quickly that it was my childhood room back in New York. Steadily I flung the covers off of me and slid myself off the bed and onto the ground. Looking over at the mirror next to the bed I noticed I was a child again, I paid it no mind as I fixed my nightgown before walking to the door of my room. Gently I reached up to grab hold of the knob and twisted. As soon as the door was open, the banging sounds became louder. Sticking my head out into the hall I looked down to the kitchen where the noise was coming from before completely stepping out of my room.

Tentatively I walked down the hall to the barely closed kitchen door. Before I could place my hand on the door to push it open, Steve stopped me. He bent down to my height and looked me in the eyes, shaking his head. I didn’t really understand what he was trying to convey so I rushed forward past him and into the kitchen, only to stop short. There, laid out in the middle of the kitchen floor was our mother with blood dripping down her face onto the wooden floor. Father stood over her with a bottle in one hand and blood covering his other fist. My heart pounded as I ran to my mother's side, crying loudly. As I came to her side I felt a large hand snatch my upper arm and a second later I was flying into one of the kitchen chairs. The tears came faster after that. They blurred my vision so much that I hadn't noticed Steve coming into the kitchen as well until he was helping me sit up.

“Shh, it’s okay, let's hurry and get back to bed.” He tried lifting me to my feet, but I fought.

“Mommy,” I cried. Escaping from Steve's hold I crawled my way back to her. And that's when I felt the hand slapping my face.

“Oh stop crying. You aren’t a baby.” I heard my father say as I brought my hands up to cup the side of my face and just cried more. He didn’t like this so in a fit of anger he threw his beer bottle across the room and into the wall. It shattered into hundreds of tiny brown glass pieces. Then he took his belt off and wrapped the buckled end of it around his hand and then headed straight for me. I blurted out of his way when he took his first steps towards me, but soon I was backed up into a corner. “Come here, so I can give you a whooping for not listing.”

“No Daddy please.” I cried harder as he came closer. That’s when Steve ran in between us.

“Dad stop, she's only five.”

“You get out of the way Steve or I’ll give you one too.” He took another step forward but Steve stood still. Through my tears, I could see Father's eyes becoming darker with anger at each passing second. When Steve still didn’t move out of his way after the next few steps, he started swinging the belt, catching Steve violently on the left cheek then back again across his right arm and around to his back. The force of the blow knocked him away just long enough for Father to reach me in the corner and take me up and start walking. The pain I felt all around my body from the sting of the belt was excruciating. I cried even more which in turn made Father angrier.

I let out a relieved sob when Mother grabbed hold of the hand that was wielding the belt, halting the onslaught of whips.

“Joseph, stop it, please. They’re both just children, leave them out of this.” she pleaded with him, which only made him turn back to beating her. I ran to hide under the table, soon after that Steve came to hide with me. I calmed my tears but I was left numb, the only thing I could hear were the sounds of Father hurting Mother. And then finally they stopped. Slowly crawling out from under the table we were met with the swollen, bloodied face of our Mother and Father was nowhere to be found.

“It’s okay children, he’s gone to bed now,” she said calmly as I made my way into her lap.

“Mom, why did you get back up?” I heard Steve ask shakily.

“Because, and both of you listen well because you always get back up. No matter how much it hurts, you stand up. Stand up for yourself, for those weaker and even stronger than you, and for each other.” She said as she gently rubbed my back.

I woke up with a start after that. Chest heaving for air, sweat covering every inch of my body, despite the room being freezing cold. There was shuffling behind me and then something cold was placed on my shoulder, I flinched away from it and turned around quickly, fear clouding my vision. I relaxed when I noticed that it was only Bucky. Letting out a shaky breath I let the dam of tears break away.

Bucky hesitantly scooted closer to where I was sitting and gently, but hesitantly, placed both his hands on the upper part of my arms and rubbed up and down.

“Are you okay? You were screaming in your sleep and then you just shot up out of nowhere,” he asked, concern dripping from his words.

“I’m okay now,” I replied shakily. “It was just a bad dream.”

“Do you- do you want to talk about it?”

I nodded slightly, knowing it would be best to get it off my chest than to keep what had happened bottled up. So for the next little while, I related to Bucky what had happened in my dream and told him bits and pieces of the abuse that had happened in my childhood before my father passed away in nineteen twenty-six.

“I’ve been in violent situations before and was fine, like in the world war, but when you slammed your hand into the wall today it triggered something in me that hadn't been triggered in a very long time,” I said, wiping the now drying tears from my cheeks. After the words left my mouth I felt Bucky slowly remove himself from his spot on my mattress and back onto the floor. “Thanks for listening, we should go back to bed now,” I yawned.

“Good night.” He whispered.

I reached down my bed to grab at the covers that were bunched up on the floor. Dragging them up, I laid back down as I covered myself with them. “Good night,” I whispered back to him. I closed my eyes, but I never did go back to sleep.

Over the next few days, after I had had the nightmare, I saw Bucky less and less. He would avoid me all day, the only time he was ever really directly next to me was when we would lay down for bed. I honestly had no clue as to why he was so diligently keeping me at a distance, but it was starting to worry me a bit. We had worked so hard to get to the place we were and now it was falling away.

He had left early in the morning like he had been but when he came home I had made a peace offering of sorts, hoping that food would be the way to stop avoiding me. I had spent quite a while flipping through a Romanian cookbook trying to figure out what I was going to make for dinner before settling on creamed chicken, which looked a lot more appetizing than it sounded.

I gathered all the ingredients I would need and then got to work. While the oven was preheating I chopped all the vegetables and placed them in a large dutch oven along with the chicken. After that I covered it with the lid and placed it in the bottom rack of the oven, I left it there for an hour.

While the vegetables and chicken were cooking slowly, I pan-cooked the mushrooms I had chopped earlier until they were nice and browned. This didn’t take long so when I had finished with the mushrooms, I sat down to read while I waited on the food in the oven to finish.

After the hour was up I took the chicken and vegetables out of the oven and poured a mixture of two cups of cream and a few tablespoons of flowers into the pot, along with the mushrooms from before and a tablespoon of paprika. I mixed it up a little with my wooden spoon to make sure everything was well incorporated, then I stuck the lid back on and placed the pot back in the oven for another thirty minutes.

When the thirty minutes were up, I took the food out of the coven and turned it off. I spooned some of the chicken and creamy broth into two separate bowls just as Buckey walked through the door. I looked up and smiled at him as he sat his backpack down on the dining table.

“Hey, I’m glad you got here when you did. I just finished making dinner, but I’ll only let you have it if you promise to tell me why you keep avoiding me.” I said jokingly as I walked to place our bowls down on the table. He just looked at me then turned, heading into the bathroom.

Seconds later I heard the shower turn on and I let out a huff. I sat down and ate my serving of food while I waited on him to finish up in the bathroom. It felt like hours before he finally opened the door. I abruptly stood up from my spot on the dining chair, determined to get some sort of answer from him.

“Bucky, why do you keep avoiding me?” My question was met with silence as he strode his way to his pallet and laid down like he was going to bed, even though it wasn’t even seven yet. “Bucky, please answer me. It’s been almost a week”. I paced my way to stand directly behind him, he turned his back to me. I bent down and slowly placed my hand on his arm. He jerked it away from me and scooted away.

“Don’t touch me.” He let out in almost a warning tone.

“Okay, I won’t, but I just want to know why you’re ignoring my existence completely.” I backed away from him. “I deserve even the smallest of explanations.” But still, nothing came. I stood up then and went back to the table to pick up my empty bowl and his full one and headed over to the kitchen. I dumped the contents of Bucky's bowl back into the pot and then covered the lid so I could place it in the fridge to eat later.

“Dinner’s in the fridge whenever you decide you want some.” I paused for a second, “Can you at least say something?”

He let out an exasperated breath, shooting up to look at me. “Fine you want to know why I’m avoiding you, then here it is. You shouldn’t have followed me here. I’m dangerous, I could hurt you or anyone else for that matter. The other day was testament enough of that. So just stay away from me.”

I stood there silently, a little confused by his words. “Bucky you could never hurt me, I know you wouldn’t.”

“Maybe not knowingly, but I could. Like you said, I scared you the other day, made you remember things your father did. It wasn’t physical but I still hurt you.”

“So that's why you were avoiding me? Because you thought that I was scared of you? Bucky I would never be scared of you, you’ve never given me a reason to be. All I said was that it triggered something, I was caught off guard. Someone else could have easily been the one to trigger it instead of you.” I said as I made my way back over to him.

“You don’t know that. You don't know that I wouldn’t hurt you.” He said shakily.

“Yes I do, Buck. I know you wouldn't, because two months ago when you were the Winter Soldier, you had plenty of chances to finish me off, to hurt me, and you didn’t. I know you, and I know you would never seriously hurt me. There is some part of your past still alive in you that's why you’re afraid you’ll hurt me now and that's why you wouldn't hurt me then.” I assured him as I tentatively placed my hand on his and gripped it tight. “I trust you Bucky, whether you trust yourself or not.”

His head bent down to look at our hands and then he looked back at me, his lips twitching into an almost unnoticeable smile. I felt him grip my hand tightly before letting it go. “I think I’ll take some of that chicken now,” he said as he heaved himself up off the floor.

I backed away up onto the loveseat behind me in order to let him pass by me. I said nothing as I picked up my book from the cushion beside me and started to read where I had left off earlier in the day.

Authors note: If you are confused, Steve's father was an abuser in the comics so that's what's going on. I don't think he was one in the MCU, but the MCU version died in WW1 right after Steve was born, so I added the comic version to fit in with the timeline of Reader's birth and some other plot stuff for this chapter.

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila @andy-is-gay

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

[aceofspadegrass]

Hey hey hey! Haven't been requesting for quiet a while.

Remember the chishiya kitty and Niragi kitty ya know pre-border kitties!

Yeah can I have a part 2 where *inhales* NIJIRO CAN'T FIND A HOME FOR THE BOTH OF THE KITTIES SO HE ADOPTED CHISHIYA WHILE DORI ADOPTED NIRAGI AND THEY BOTH TAKE THE BOTH OF THEM TO WORK IN THEIR STUDIO WHILE FILMING (yes fanta is there too, and the other doggies) AND WHEN IT WAS TIME FOR DORI TO SHOOT THE FLASHBACK SCENE WHERE NIRAGI GETS...ya know..I AM SAD OF THAT SCENE OKAY!? HE GOT BRUISES AND ALL-

and after that scene Dori comes looking for kitty Niragi and saw the kitten all shaking beneath the black chair that say's the word 'NIRAGI' in the back, ya know those chairs right? (Fanta is there right next to the kitten licking it's head in reassurance what good pupper! He is trained so well-)

The rest is up to you!

Pre-BorderKitties, Now with a Baseball

Characters: Sakurada Dori, Murakami Nijiro, Yanagi Shuntaro (Mentioned), Niragi Suguru (Technically), Chishiya Shuntaro (Technically and also only mentioned)

Genre: Fluff with a little angst. Just a tad. Poor kitty Niragi, he saw baseball season.

1.5k words

Well here you go buddy! It was fun to write, but poor kitty Niragi, he saw something he wasn't supposed to. I like to imagine Niragi later got to hang out at the 'Beach' in a separate room as they filmed the rest, without seeing the fate of his owner wearing the future human version of him. ✨

(Also I'm reusing the liner from the other one because it's nice.)

The next few days turned into weeks, much longer than the either were expecting.

Murakami came by every day to help Sakurada with the kittens faithfully, as he promised. Since then, the kittens have warmed up a little to them, and by the end of the month they ended up adopting a kitten each. Murakami thought it would be more funnier to take the cat after their character, so now Sakurada had a little dark grey kitten as well as his precious dog. Niragi was still pretty much the same as he was the first day Sakurada met him, skittish and wary of everything, but now a little more willing to cuddle next to Sakurada.

Today was filming day for Alice in Borderland, Sakurada driving over to the site where they were filming one of the scenes, Fanta happily chilling in the backseat with Niragi sitting next to the pupper, the both safely fastened to the car so they couldn’t get thrown around if something happened. Fanta was using a leash while Niragi was just huddled in a little cloth that was attached to a smaller strap, but it was effective enough.

Sakurada parks by the rest of the cars and gets out, opening the door and releasing his pets from the car, Fanta hopping down to walk besides Sakurada. Niragi was carried out instead, the three heading over to where the others where, Sakurada waving at the others there as he passed by and went to the dressing trailer they set up. Later on in the day they’d be shooting the other parts of the Beach episodes, and he didn’t need to be staying in his Pre-Borderland outfit for that long, so it was just a quick change here instead of coming already dressed. He spots Murakami not that far away, the man there despite not filming any scenes until much later in the day, Chishiya cradled in his arms and apparently sleeping.

“ Hi Sakurada!” Murakami waves to Sakurada from a distance, then comes closer and bows properly. “ Good luck during filming today!”

“ Thanks Murakami. What are you doing here?” Sakurada asked, Murakami smiling at him as he straightens up, Chishiya still fast asleep despite the brief squishing he just endured.

“ Well, I just came by to watch! That and I heard you were bringing your pets to work, so I wanted to see them too!” Murakami chirps, Sakurada chuckling. He gestures to Fanta, who was still by his feet, Murakami bending down and petting the pupper. Fanta gives a soft bark and wags his little tail, happy to be getting attention without having to do much. Murakami stands up again and waves to Niragi as well, who was curled up in Sakurada’s arm.

“ Well, I better get going now. Talk to you later!”

“ Okay, I will!”

Sakurada goes to gets dressed and heads out once he finished, placing kitty Niragi down on the chair with his name on it. The kitten mews up at him the moment Niragi left Sakurada’s warm hands. Sakurada smiles at Niragi and gently pets the kitten, which earns him the tiniest of purrs and a loafed bean when he lifts his hand up. “ You stay here and rest for a bit, okay Niragi? I need to go work for a little bit~”

Niragi only stays here and watches as Sakurada heads towards the bridge where the scene would be, not far from where everything else was. Sakurada could see Fanta happily playing with Yanagi’s dog Merry not that far away. Sakurada appreciated that Yanagi came by just to hang out with Fanta once he heard that Sakurada was taking his dog to the site so that when they were released until later on they could just hang out and do normal people things. Maybe they could walk the dogs together, that’d be fun.

The scene itself was thankfully taken within a few shots so Sakurada didn’t have to worry about any real bruising on his beautiful face. The hits weren’t as hard as it looked, they made sure to use softballs and not apply as much pressure as it was depicted to prevent any real damage, but the acting (and extra makeup they applied to make it more realistic) still had to make it seem they were the real deal. Sakurada congratulated everyone for the good job, the others even coming over to check to assure he was perfectly alright before they broke for a break and moved locations to film some more scenes at the ‘Beach’ indoors, the nighttime outdoor scenes taking much later in the day.

Sakurada heads back to the break area, but pauses when he notices something wrong, Murakami wandering around with worry on his face.

“ Murakami? Murakami, what’s wrong?” Sakurada jogged over to his friend, Murakami looking up at Sakurada.

“ I can’t find Niragi.” “ Huh? What do you mean?”

Murakami looks at the ground, eyes flicking around to try to spot the kitten. “ Well, I thought it’d be a good idea to let the kitten roam around a little, under my supervision on course! So I took him off the chair you left him on. But….”

Sakurada raised an eyebrow as he waited for Murakami to finish, although panic was already seeping into his bones. “ But…?”

“ Well, I think Niragi saw you guys acting out that scene, and he suddenly ran off. I don’t know where he went. Goodness, I hope he didn’t run far…”

Sakurada frowns, then nods. “ Let’s look for him. Go see if Yanagi spotted him too.”

Murakami nods in return, and they part, Sakurada looking around to see if he could find the skittish kitten, including underneath places a kitten could’ve been. He shouldn’t have ran far, but since this was a fairly open area…. Sakurada shivered at the thought of what could happen. He even called out the kitten’s name a few times and asked the others if they saw where Niragi had scampered off too, but no results.

Sakurada was about ready to start looking outside the area where they had all been in when he felt paws against his shoe. Sakurada looks down to Merry, who barks and runs off almost immediately, Sakurada following after the dog.

“ What is it Merry?” Sakurada asked, the pupper stopping in front of the black chair where he last had left the kitten. “ Wait, is he….?” Merry barks in response and wags her tail, the trots off after apparently having completing the mission the dog set out to do.

Sakurada lets out a small chuckle at the dog’s antics, then finally checks underneath the chair, finally getting his prize of finding his kitten. Niragi was curled up right underneath the shade of the chair, easily fading into the shadows with how dark and small he was. Sakurada reaches out for the kitten, and the moment his fingers grazed the kitten he felt the poor thing shaking, and a short mew erupted from Niragi, full of fear. Sakurada instantly started hushing the heightened kitten, staying still and reassuring Niragi that he was alright..

“ Oh, did I scare you? I’m sorry Niragi, I didn’t mean to. I’m alright, see? Nothing’s gonna hurt you either you little vanilla bean, oh I’m so sorry if that scared you….” Sakurada says in a soft tone, the kitten mewing again while he continued to shake, fur puffed up all over and resembling a dust bunny.

The sad mews seemed to have caught Fanta’s attention as well, the dog padding over and laying next to Niragi, licking the kitten as if he knew the best way to calm a crying bean.

The two laid there underneath the chair comforting the kitten for a while, and while others did come by to see if everything was okay, Sakurada always politely sent them on their way to reduce Niragi’s stress. Eventually he could scoop the kitten up, getting into a sitting position as the kitten trembled against his chest, a paw moving to press against his chest, which was still in the school uniform he was supposed to wear.

“ It’s alright now Niragi, I’m here. I’m here.” Sakurada continued to soothe, cradling the kitten as he heads to the trailer. After all, he still needed to change out and get the makeup wiped off so he could head to the other location for more filming.

Afterwards, he gets up and heads to his car, grabbing the little cloth pouch with the strap. Thankfully, it also functioned as a sort of carrier, Sakurada tying it around himself and settling the kitten to rest within, right up to his heart so the kitten could listen to his perfectly alright heart. Within seconds the kitten began to quietly purr, curling up safely in the comfort of Sakurada. Sakurada nods in satisfaction, and he heads to where Yanagi was, the man offering the extra leash he brought so they could walk their dogs together, Sakurada quickly thanking him. He calls his dog over, Fanta trotting over and letting Sakurada clip the leash to him. Hopefully Fanta would walk for a fair distance, knowing how much more he preferred to just flop and become a fried dumpling instead, the two setting off for a nice brisk walk until they had to head down for the rest of filming.

Niragi, at the very least, was safe and comfortable, the best way Sakurada preferred him to be after that harrowing experience for the kitten.

#aib #alice in borderland #sakurada dori #murakami nijiro #yanagi shuntaro #chishiya shuntaro #niragi suguru #pre niragi kitty is trying his best to interact but people spooky~ #poor baby saw his owner get smacked as his human version :( #also kitty chishiya is just sleeping because he simply isn't bothered #good thing kitty niragi didn't run off too far that'd be disasterous #i haven't the slightest of clue of the order they filmed everything so i made it as i went #maybe kitty niragi learns the gremlin behaviour from watching sakurada play as niragi at the beach :0 such a smart kitty #fanta is so precious~ #so is merry :D #ask