#*credit to the person who made this. i had it saved from years ago | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

illicitlimerence-writes · 1 year

Text

teddy bears & blankets | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x leclerc!reader

word count: 2.3k words

request: yes, by anon: “hear me out…single mum who’s a leclerc and max👀”

prompt: character a can’t wrap gifts to save their life. character b is their neighbor and can help. from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: a baby, fluffy max, a sick baby:( language maybe, kinda angsty in the middle.

a/n: day 5! i really didn’t plan to write three kid fics in a row, but oh well. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.

my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist

he sighed, tossing yet another piece of wrapping paper aside. max was talented in many different things, but wrapping gifts just wasn’t one of them. he was already stressed enough having to buy a gift for a christmas party he had forgotten about, spending almost two hours in line at a store, and now he had no idea how to wrap this box.

when he was sure that the paper was large enough to cover it completely, once he started placing the adhesive tape either one side was larger than the other or he placed it in a way that just didn’t work. he decided to just give up and place a bow on top.

he put on his coat, with the gift in one hand and keys in the other. he stepped out and closed the door, and was about to place the key in the keyhole when he heard the sound of the elevator arrive at his floor. he turned his head, seeing his neighbor and her daughter.

“hi, max,” she said, waving her free hand at him, the other one was holding her sleeping child. “i thought you’d be at charles’ by now,” she smiled.

“yeah, that’s where i’m heading, i just… i couldn’t figure out how to wrap this,” he held up the gift, “but i gave up,” he chuckled, watching her shift her weight from one leg to the other, “let me help you,” he said, opening his arms to grab the child.

when max found out a few months ago that his new next-door neighbor had a one-year-old baby he feared the worst. he was used to the peace and quiet of having a floor all to himself, and a baby would undoubtedly break that silence he cherished so much. but that wasn’t the case with (y/n) and alison leclerc.

alison was probably the best, well-behaved child max had ever met, he was used to his nephews, rowdy and a little bratty if he was being honest, but alison was soft, gentle, not too noisy and always staring up at him with eyes that looked just like charles’.

“she’ll wake up, can you get the door, please?” she asked, handing him the keys. he nodded and opened the door for her. “thank you,” she turned on the lights, “make yourself at home, i’ll put this little one to bed and i’ll help you with that,” she smiled at him.

“oh, no, you don’t have to- i-”

“my brother has been working all day for this dinner to be perfect, he won’t let you in if you show up with an unwrapped gift.” she raised an eyebrow, “he’s been freaking out all day, so, for the sake of charles’ health, let me wrap that gift for you,” she used her mom voice, giving him one last look before walking to ali’s room.

“yes, ma’am,” max said, running to his place to grab the leftover wrapping paper. he returned just as she was walking back, still with alison in her arms, but this time the baby was awake. “what happened?” he asked, a smile on his face as he looked at the baby, with sleep evident in her eyes, her cheeks an intense shade of pink.

“it’s like a curse,” she sighed, “right when i was placing her head on the pillow she woke up,” she placed ali on the counter, the baby immediately turning to crawl away, “nope, ali-”

“i’ll play with her, if that’s okay,” max offered. “a favor for a favor,” he said, walking to the little girl.

“what do you say ali? want to play with max?” she asked the girl, who had made her way to the fruit bowl and was playing with a small clementine.

“mash,” ali said, trying to say max. he smiled.

max entertained the baby, letting her pick whatever she wanted to play with. she kept coming back to the small clementine, and as the girl’s mother was cutting the right amount of paper, ali handed him the clementine.

“you want me to eat it?” he asked, grabbing the fruit and lifting it up to his lips.

alison laughed, squealing and clapping her hands.

“thank you, ali, that’s the best fruit i’ve ever had!” max opened his hand, lifting it in front of ali’s face. “high five,” he said, grabbing ali’s hand and clapping it against his own. ali laughed, doing it again and again, each time harder than the last. “ow,” he said, shaking his hand after one particularly hard clap.

“ali, gentle,” her mother reminded her. max turned to the older leclerc girl, seeing her already done with the gift. “here you go, you’re free to leave now,” max inspected the gift, she’d even managed to make a bow out of the same paper.

“how did you do that?” he asked, staring at her in awe. she only shrugged.

“i’m multitalented,”

“can i come to you every time i need a gift wrapped?”

“yeah! we love having guests, don’t we, ali?” she asked, the girl had leaned against max’s torso, he was leaning against the edge of the counter, where ali was sitting to make sure she didn’t fall or crawl away.

“i think she’s falling asleep.” he said, pressing a hand to the back of her head to support her.

“thank god,” she sighed, “i thought it was going to be another sleepless night.”

“she’s got issues sleeping at night?”

“lately, yeah.”

“i’ve never heard her,” max said, the leclercs apartment was always so quiet it almost felt like no one lived there.

“she’s not a crier. she just stares around,”

“well…” he said, doubting for a second if he really wanted to say it, but he decided to do it, “feel free to stop by if you need anything. i mean it, whether it’s to entertain ali or… if you need company.”

he knew that parenting was already hard with both parents around, and he couldn’t imagine how difficult it was being a single parent. and he liked her, they knew each other since they were kids and had grown up together in a way, with her always tagging along to charles’ races and events.

“thank you,” she said, walking closer to them, “and the same goes to you, mi casa es tu casa.” she smiled at him.

alison moved her head, extending her arms

“mama,” she yawned.

“i think i’ll leave, she needs all the rest she can get,”

“yeah,” she nodded. “have a nice night, max.”

“thank you, you too.”

it was two weeks later, and again, max was struggling to decide whether he really should ask (y/n) for help. throughout those two weeks theyy had managed to run into each other more than the entire time they'd been neighbors. max would always pay a little extra attention to them, whether it was helping her with whatever she was carrying, opening the door for her, or holding alison in his arms.

he could say that they were starting to become close friends, and after two weeks he found himself looking forward to seek her help.

he was standing in front of his mirror brushing his hair to make sure it was in place. he looked down to his bottles of cologne, and he grabbed one, how finger ready to apply it, but thought about alison, if the girl was to get close to him the chemicals from the fragrance could irritate her.

he walked out of his room, with the roll of wrapping paper and the gift under his arm, something inside of him moved at the thought of seeing them again.

he lifted his fist to knock on the door, waiting for the usual stomping of little feet or her soft voice. he waited a few seconds before knocking again.

he heard soft whimpers getting louder, and soft shushing as the door opened. his face fell as he saw the state of both girls.

“what happened?” he asked immediately, seeing them both in their pjs, with alison crying soundlessly and her mother looking like she was on the verge of tears as well.

“i’m sorry, max, i- i can’t help you right now i-”

“no, no, forget about this, what’s wrong?” he asked, and right as he finished talking alison started coughing.

“she’s sick, and she can’t sleep and… god, i feel so… powerless,” she said, rubbing her hand up and down the baby’s back, “i wish i could make her feel okay but-” she shook her head, rubbing a hand down her face as tears started falling from her eyes.

“hey, it’s alright,” max whispered, walking in and wrapping his arm around her, “have you called her doctor?”

“yeah, he already prescribed the medicine, but… i don’t know what to do now, she keeps coughing and waking herself up.”

“mash,” they both looked at alison, watching her extend her arms towards him.

“no, baby, you’ll get max sick-” she explained, taking her arms down, but the baby insisted.

“it’s alright, i… i can hold her, i don’t mind.”

“but you’ll-”

“if it helps her, and you, i would love to hold her.” max said, watching ali lean herself forward. max dropped his stuff on the floor and held her. he placed the back of his hand against her forehead, “i think she’s got a fever.”

“yeah, the medicine should help with that.” she said, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “god, i’m a mess. let me get your things so you-”

“no, forget about that. i’m staying.”

“what? max you don’t have-”

“i want to. i won’t be able to focus on anything all night knowing you’re both like this.” right then alison started coughing again, and max rubbed her back gently, whispering softly in her ear, “there you go, get it all out. want to look at the city?” he asked, walking to the window overlooking the harbor, “look at the boats and the lights, ali…” he said, the girl leaning her head on his shoulder and yawning. “she’s sleepy,” he told her mom.

“yeah, she hasn’t slept all day. only for a few minutes before having a coughing fit every time.” she explained.

“have you called your mom? or brothers?” he asked, knowing that they would all most likely be there to help them both if they knew.

“they’re all gone. on holiday. we were supposed to join them but… well, look at us.”

“well, you’re not alone anymore. i’m here,” he walked to her, wrapping his free arm around her, careful with the baby between them.

“you- really don’t have to do this, you had plans and-”

“and i can see them tomorrow or next week, that’s the least of my problems right now. right now you both should get some sleep. this little one is already falling asleep.”

“i just hope she can rest more than fifteen minutes at a time,”

“you want me to lay her down or-”

“yeah, come,” she said, walking down a hallway and opening the door to ali’s bedroom. everything was decorated in neutral warm colors and was very clean.

“i think this is the tidiest baby room i’ve seen,” max said, hoping to lighten the mood.

“you should see my room. we’ve been sleeping there since she got sick, and it’s not pretty.”

“i’m sure it’s better than my room even when i’ve just cleaned it.”

she chuckled, preparing ali’s crib.

after placing her on the bed and waiting for her to fall asleep, they both stayed in her room, with max on the floor next to the crib, ready to act in case she started coughing or woke up. they stayed there for about twenty minutes, in silence, staring at alison longingly.

max had grown attached to both of them, and the feeling he got when he first saw them that night was something he’d never felt before. he’d felt the back of his neck tingling, his heart seemed to sink down to his stomach.

“i think this is it,”

“yeah?” max asked.

“yeah. she’s not even moving around, she used to squirm around, trying to get comfortable but now she’s… i think she’s finally gonna get some sleep,”

“and you should get some, too,” max said, eyes widening at what he had said, “sleep, i mean- i”

“i know what you meant,” she chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand to muffe her laugh. “i think i’ll just stay here for the night. i want to be here in case she wakes up.”

“well, we should get comfortable, then.” max said, leaning to grab a big stuffed bear and placed it beneath his head as a pillow.

“you’re not staying here, max. you really don’t have to.”

“of course i am. someone’s got to look out for you. and i know you’re both totally fine on your own normally, but these are not normal conditions. you need a little help, and i’m more than happy to be here.”

she smiled, a soft, sleepy smile that made max’s heart beat faster. she pulled out some blankets from the bottom drawer of ali’s wardrobe. scooting over next to max.

“you’ve got the pillow, i’ve got the blankets.” she said.

“i don’t know about you, but that sounds perfect.”

“a sleeping, sick kid, a mom in the middle of an emotional breakdown, a teddy bear and blankets?”

“yeah.” he nodded, sounding absolutely serious about his posture.

“you’ve clearly not spend enough time in this house.” she joked, sliding down and wrapping the blanket around herself, getting ready to sleep, finally.

“well, i would love to do that. you know, to… get a gist of things around here.” he said, unaware of the smile on her face, since she’d turned her back to him.

“we’ll talk about it over breakfast.”

“that sounds perfect. good night.” he leaned down, giving alison one last look, making sure that she was still asleep before closing his eyes to sleep.

2K notes · View notes

pocketjoong · 4 months

Text

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆noctem⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 〘act 1, chapter 2〙

〘Synopsis〙『Your hatred of dragons is a hate born of witnessing their flames consume your village, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. The worst of all is the beast that haunts your dreams, the very dragon whose memory fuels a burning desire for revenge within you. But life has a way of unsettling even the most steadfast convictions. And when you stumble upon a truth that shatters the boundaries of your understanding, you begin to question the very essence of the world you live in.』

〘Pairing〙『Night Fury!Seonghwa x afab!Reader』

〘Genre〙『FANTASY, ACTION, SMUT』

〘Word Count〙『2.5k』

〘Chapter-specific Warnings〙『Based on How To Train Your Dragon. Canon-compliant violence. Mentions of dragons attacking the mc's village. Mentions of fire. Passing mention of injuries. MDNI.』

〘Banner Credits〙『@playmetheclassics』

please note: there will be NO taglist for this series

By the time you finish tending to the injuries of those who had been sent to the infirmary, the sun is rising in the distance. A weariness settles over you as you dress the wounds of the last person you have to tend to, and you look forward to the two weeks of peace after a dragon attack.

You rinse the grime and blood from your hands in the basin tucked in the corner before rushing out of the building. Relief washes over you at the sight of familiar figures at the edge of the cliff that overlooks the port. Even though they’re merely silhouettes against the morning light, you know each of them well enough to recognise them by their shadows.

As you move closer, you note that Yunho, Wooyoung, and Mingi, the village blacksmith, look battle-ravaged and tired. But they are watching the sunrise with content smiles. You approach them with a smile of your own, but you can’t help but scan their figures for any injuries that might need healing.

Amusement dances in your brother’s eyes at your worried expression, “I'm fine. Mostly unharmed save for a few small bruises and the soot lining my clothes.”

When you turn your focus to the others, you find them grinning back at you. “And you guys?”

“No open stitches or any new injuries. I told you I’d be careful,” Wooyoung declares, his tone light-hearted.

Mingi ruffles your hair while he offers his own reassurance, “I’m fine as well. I stuck to my workshop until the very end, only leaving when Yunho and Wooyoung needed assistance with the ballista.”

“Let’s go back home and get some rest. Wooyoung and I have a meeting to attend at the hall in a few hours,” Yunho says, leading you towards your home with a guiding hand on your shoulder. Mingi trails behind silently, waving in farewell before taking the dusty path to reach his house, which also doubles as his workshop.

You, Yunho, and Wooyoung share the house overlooking the village. All three of you moved here after losing your families to a brutal attack years ago. Despite being only a few months older than Wooyoung and barely a year older than you, Yunho seamlessly assumed the role of guardian for both of you. The weight he shouldered at the tender age of twelve, stepping into the shoes of a village leader after the tragedy, often made you feel bad for him. His duties far exceeded what any child should bear, but he bore them with a grace beyond his years.

The dream claws at your consciousness, a relentless reminder of the incident that tore through your family. You can handle the sympathetic looks of your fellow villagers, but the nightmares are another story. You hate them, for they persist, leaving you exhausted and weary even after a full night’s sleep.

You unlock the door, ushering the two males inside. As the door creaks open, the comfort of the space envelops you like a familiar embrace, and you can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves your lips.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You know you are dreaming, but the panic that grips your throat is a tangible force that twists your heart and leaves your hands shaking. It’s a suffocating reality that is too familiar, too hauntingly real.

Your surroundings are too hot, too bright, and suffused with smoke that blinds your vision. The orange flames dance menacingly in front of you, searing painfully against your skin. Your brain is screaming for you to do something, to move. But you are frozen in the face of danger and struggle to comprehend the unfolding nightmare.

There’s a presence beside you, but the ringing in your ears drowns their voice. Squinting through the smoke, urgency compels you to find an escape route. If you don’t move, you’ll be burnt to a crisp by the flames, and you won’t let a dragon be the reason you meet your end.

There’s no time to waste, you realise when there’s a crash in the adjacent room. The sound is what finally jolts you into action, and without hesitation, you grab the person next to you and bolt towards safety.

The relief when you escape the fire all but vanishes as the sight in front of you changes, and you find Yunho trapped in the claws of a massive dragon. His desperate struggle mirrors the fear etched in his eyes. The image shakes you to your core. It’s new, and you know why you’re seeing this: every time Yunho is out fighting the dragons during an attack, you can’t help but worry about his safety.

There’s a beat of silence as if the world has stopped around you before you jump towards the creature holding him hostage. But you’re too late. You meet the ground with a crash while the dragon takes off, taking Yunho away from you.

You jolt awake, your heart pounding so hard that you feel it wants to escape your chest. You’re covered in cold sweat, and you feel it trail down your back. You gasp for air, for the relief that comes with your lungs being filled with oxygen. Instinctively, you look down to check your hands, half-expecting to find the remnants of blood and soot on them.

Dazed and disoriented, you rise, stumbling towards the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, you wince at your wide-eyed and tear-stained face. You’re breathing fast, too quick to be considered normal. Staring at your trembling hands, you run them beneath the water before splashing the cold substance on your face.

Feeling a presence next to you, you turn around to find your brother gazing at you worriedly. But before you can ease his worry, Wooyoung walks in through your bedroom door, which is now wide open courtesy of Yunho.

“Is everything okay?” Wooyoung breaks the silence, voice is still gravelly from sleep. You feel bad for waking them up and worrying them like this, but right now, all you can focus on is the raging panic inside of you. “I heard you screaming, Y/N.”

You blink; your throat definitely feels raw, but you can’t remember hearing yourself scream.

“I think it was a bad dream,” Yunho mutters softly, eyes still trained on you.

Dream?

It’s almost as if everything falls into place when you hear Yunho’s words. You had the nightmare once again, the same one you had had since you lost your family during an attack when you were ten years old. With clammy hands, you tightly grip the bedside table in a futile attempt to steady yourself. Stumbling, you crash onto the floor as you try to calm your furiously beating heart.

Yunho scrambles to kneel next to you, brows furrowed in worry. “Y/N, breathe with me, c’mon. ’S okay, you’re safe.” You let him tuck you into his chest, the touch becoming an anchor to help you ground yourself. You breathe deeply, timing your breaths in tandem with Yunho’s. You remind yourself over and over again that he’s safe and sound.

“Was it the same dream?” Wooyoung’s voice is closer now, and you open your eyes to see him in front of you. You shrug as an answer to Wooyoung’s question.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you whisper apologetically, but they quickly shush you.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Wooyoung murmurs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as if he already knows your answer, “Or would you like to help me with lunch?”

“Brunch,” you declare, carefully disentangling yourself from Yunho, who has fallen asleep. Little snores leave his mouth, and you suppress a giggle. You grab a pillow from your bed, gently supporting his neck to ensure he sleeps comfortably even if he’s on the floor. Quietly, you follow Wooyoung into the kitchen.

“What are we making?” You question, standing in the middle of the room while Wooyoung rummages through the cupboards.

“How do omelettes and buttered toast sound? Yunho bought bread from the village baker last evening, and I’m sure we haven’t run out of the jam we prepared,” he stops his hunt and starts gathering the things needed for the proposed meal.

“We also have some leftover meat pie,” you inform him, fishing out the pie from the pantry and setting it on the table. Grabbing a large bowl, you crack some eggs while Wooyoung chops the vegetables, the two of you falling into rhythm easily.

Wooyoung reaches over to add the chopped vegetables to the bowl, stirring them with the eggs as you place two pans on the stove. Soon, you have two omelettes sizzling in unison. Carefully, you add different spices and ingredients to each one based on your individual preferences. Spotting extra vegetables, you throw them in a pan to sauté them while Wooyoung handles the omelettes.

“Wow,” Yunho walks into the kitchen, drawn in by the aroma of food. He peeks over your shoulders. “That’s a feast right there.”

Eventually, you and Wooyoung finish cooking and carry everything to the table with Yunho's assistance. The three of you happily devour the food, joking, teasing, and laughing between bites.

“I have to go into the forest to gather more herbs. It’s amazing how fast we burn through them after the attacks,” you sigh, already tired by the mere thought of having to haul a huge batch of herbs from the forest.

“Be careful,” Yunho warns you. “The forest is safe right now, but you can’t be careful enough.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure with a smile. “I’ve done this so many times.”

After bidding goodbye to the two males, you follow one of the trails behind your house that leads into the forest. You hum a small tune as you walk through the woods. Despite the village being attacked every fortnight, the forest is safe because the dragons avoid lingering for fear of getting captured. The chirping birds and the small animals frolicking around in the undergrowth lift your spirits. You take a deep breath, unable to stop yourself from breaking into a smile.

The sound of a nearby waterfall catches your attention, prompting you to change course towards the opening through the trees. However, you halt in your tracks when you spot broken trees and upturned earth, suggesting that something came barreling down from the sky.

The only thing that would crash down from the sky is a dragon.

Unsheathing your shortsword, you slowly approach an outgrown rock where the wreckage seems the worst. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before peeking to check if you’re right, only to hide behind the rock once again quickly. There, on the other side, is a dragon you’ve never seen before.

It doesn’t take a genius to identify it as a Night Fury, also known as ‘the offspring of lightning and death itself.’ The beast’s scales are pitch black, adorned with small horns that spike from above its eyes, down its neck, back, and tail, the tip of which fans out like that of a whale. Surprisingly, it doesn’t look as terrifying as its reputation suggests, resembling more of a feline than a vicious reptile. For being a dragon dreaded across the seven seas, the beast looks tamer than the ones you’ve come across over the course of your life.

Peeking from behind the rock again, you realise the dragon is tangled in rope. There are signs of struggle, showing that it tried but failed to free itself from the binds. As it seems to be asleep, you approach cautiously, awed by the sheer size of the creature. The dragon likely hears you because, even though it can’t move, one of its eyes opens, fixing a stare at you. It releases a warning growl when you move even closer, but you scoff, knowing fully well that it won’t be able to harm you.

“You know, you really look more like a cat than a dragon,” your tone is belittling as you tilt your head to meet the dragon’s gaze head-on.

The dragon emits what seems like a scoff, earning an eye-roll from you. “You should be nicer to me. After all, I could kill you, and then what would happen, huh? Your little family would find it harder and harder to attack us, considering that you’re the one who makes it difficult for us to bring down the rest of your kind.”

It hits you that this would be your first dragon kill, and for some reason, it gives you a sense of satisfaction. Eliminating the Night Fury is a step closer towards your goal to avenge your family and the countless others who were destroyed by these beasts.

Raising your blade, you look down at the beast with a blank expression. The dragon gazes at you with big, pleading eyes, its pupils round and sparkly like that of a cat. Your grip on the weapon falters, and sensing your hesitation, it lets out the most pathetic of whimpers.

“You have some nerve, really,” you sigh, the urge to harm the creature gradually ebbs away the longer you look into its eyes. It’s a living, breathing creature, and it goes against all your ideals as a healer to kill a sentient being. “First, your kind kills my family, then you guys literally cause so much damage to my village every time you attack, and here I am, wanting to spare you? Why can’t you be as ugly as a Gronckle?”

The dragon blinks at you in confusion.

“Stop looking at me like that!” You scold it, only causing the dragon to huff, this time in amusement. Sensing that you’re not going to kill it, the beast lets out another whine and closes its eyes.

Sighing once again, you use your sword to cut through the ropes, loosening the bonds that bind the poor creature. That is your second mistake because the moment it is free, the dragon lunges at you, pinning you against the rock as you gasp in shock. It growls at you, keeping you restrained with its claws.

“Oh, isn’t that just lovely?” you mock the dragon. You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you can’t stop taunting it. “I save your sorry life, and you thank me by pinning me to a rock? Quite the peculiar way to express gratitude, I must say… and quite kinky.”

The beast regards you with a look of sheer disbelief, scoffs dismissively, and turns around to fly further into the forest. Only when it crashes into an outcrop of rocks, do you notice the unsteadiness of its flight.

Is it injured?

Your brows furrow as a pang of worry pierces through your heart, but before you can act on it, the realisation of how late it it dawns upon you. You haven’t even started collecting the herbs you had ventured into the forest for. Deciding to return tomorrow to check on the dragon, should it still be around, you start the laborious task of gathering the herbs you need.

169 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

Note

AITA for stealing an ex friends oc?

I have an ex friend who I had a falling out with several months ago. it was a long time coming, truth be told I had begun avoiding them years ago because I realized that they were a bad person and potentially very dangerous to be associated with. I don't want to go into all the details of the many many MANY things that they've done since I known them, since they're active on Tumblr and r/AITA so I'm 99% sure that they'll end up seeing this.

what I will say is that being their friend meant constantly walking on eggshells, even when they weren't around. they were incredibly controlling, they yelled at me on multiple occasions because I disagreed with them publicly. they used me as a borderline guard dog for internet discourse, summoning me when they needed backup and getting mad when I didn't appear completely obedient. at the same time they proved that they were more than willing to sacrifice me in order to save their own skin. throughout our entire 10+ year long relationship I never got a single apology that I didn't explicitly ask for. I stuck around as long as I did because I saw them lead multiple harassment campaigns against others, and in at least one instance they did something that could have easily landed them on the receiving end of a libel lawsuit, as well as whatever charges come from falsifying evidence.

as I mentioned I knew them for a long time, and throughout the years we made many ocs together. these ocs were always relevant to each other in their lore, but some of our ocs are completely inextricable from the others. ocs that I still care about, despite our falling out

so I just take them. they become a less important side character to my own oc, and I don't credit my ex friend with regards to their character I stole.

#aita #am i the asshole

79 notes · View notes

enthusiasteditor · 2 months

Text

In this blog I have never talked about personal issues, maybe a few hints here and there about my work (but I would say that from my name and the description it is clear), and it is a precise choice: I want this to be a sharing space on Good Omens, given how important it was and is to me, and I want to leave "real life" out. But tonight I want to make an exception. I don't know who will read me, maybe a few, maybe many. It does not matter. And I apologize for any errors, but English is not my native language.

I went through a very dark moment in my life, where I didn't know if my life would go on or if it was better to turn everything off. I had just lost a parent, my health was deteriorating, and a family member had gotten himself into a really bad situation. I saw no way out. But then, a little light hit me. It was really small, but in the midst of so much darkness even a very small light can give you hope. This light was Good Omens. I don't want to say that it saved my life, but it was certainly that hug that detached me from reality, that made me understand that it was worth carrying on, that I had to try to get better. The message of love of this story, the wonderful fandom, Neil's kindness, Michael and David's smiles... all little lights.

Now years have passed, I'm fine, I've found my balance and I know that the credit is above all mine. But those little lights that showed me the way years ago were fundamental. I just want to say thank you to Neil, Terry, Michael, David, all the cast and crew, but above all to all of you, fans of this magnificent series. The love, the respect, the kindness I have found are all other little lights that make my life brighter.

Thanks with all my heart

Here the wonderful words of Michael Sheen (in David Tennant's podcast), I think they fully reflect what I want to express tonight:

"I've realized it is a thin line between being, you know, surviving this life and going under. And the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you and what's meaningful to you will be not meaningful to someone else, you know [...] It doesn't matter what it is, go and find them and find some way to, like, hold them close to you, make it like go and get it, because those are the things that keep you afloat."

LOVE

#love #thank you good omens fandom #thank you neil gaiman #thank you terry pratchet #thank you michael sheen #thank you david tennant #good omens #gomens #crowley #david tennant #michael sheen #aziraphel #neil gaiman #terry pratchett

54 notes · View notes

wisefoxluminary · 1 year

Text

After watching Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3, I've had a long and hard think about how Peter and Rocket's relationship was portrayed in the film and I think there is clear homoerotic subtext between them. For clarification, homoerotic subtext is when a close friendship between the same sex is portrayed similarly to a romantic one. Here is the instances it was implied throughout the gotg trilogy.

*Spoilers for Guardians of The Galaxy will follow*

When Rocket's life hung on the balance, Peter went to great lengths to save him. Throughout the film, he refers to Rocket as his "best friend". He blames himself for Rocket's injuries as he was drunk at the time and couldn't stop him from getting hurt. When Rocket laid flatlining on the bed and was near death, Peter didn't give up on him. He had hope that he would get out of this alive. He wasn't going to lose another friend. Peter had a heartbreaking, visceral reaction to watching Rocket die before him. He needs Rocket more than anything. He is the one that holds him together even in his darkest moments.

When Rocket comes back from the afterlife, alive and well, Peter hugs him tightly along with Groot, showing how much he cares about him.

"I'm not letting him go"

Peter and Rocket share the same interests in music. They both share ownership of the zune. Rocket can be heard singing along to the music like Radiohead's Creep in the vol.3's prologue. He has formed a special connection to music the same way Quill has had. The connection is utilised when Quill nearly sacrifices his life to get the zune back for Rocket. "I got this back for you" is a very powerful message. Music is the thing that brings them together and makes their bond stronger. His love for Rocket made him get the zune back. It was all in the name of love.

When Peter is away, Rocket would listen to his music as a way of remembering him and to feel that his presence is always with him. Rocket may love to make fun of Quill, but he is everything to him.

Peter and Rocket would argue about who was captain and bicker and throw insults at one another constantly. It was what made up most of the tension between them. They are like a couple arguing, with unresolved sexual tension they choose not to deal with.

Peter has lost so much in his life that he has become a shell of a man. Rocket is scared of losing people and desires to push people away. He blames himself for losing his friends all those years ago and can't bear to lose another. He is scared of disappointing them. They both understand these flaws and help each other work through it.

When the Guardians were in the Kyln Prison in Vol 1, Rocket wasn't afraid to defend Quill from those who desired to kill him. He was his bounty and if they wanted to get through to him, they had to go through him and Groot.

In Avengers Endgame, Rocket wore Star Lord's scarf as a mark of remembrance after his captain was dusted.

Rocket comes to pull Peter out of his drunken state. In that dark period of his life, when he was mourning Gamora in a unhealthy way, Rocket was the only one that was there for him. He took him out of that dark place and was there for him every step of the way.

Peter appoints Rocket captain and leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy at the end of Vol. 3 because he sees so much of himself in him. He has so much respect and honour for the raccoon after everything that he went through, that he needs someone who can protect those who can't fight for themselves. Those who were once in Rocket's position.

In the mid-credits scene, when Rocket and the new Guardians talk about their music tastes, Rocket introduces the team to the song "Come and Get Your Love" by Redbone, a song that holds a special place in his heart because it was Peter's favourite song. The way he talks about the song prior to playing it is quite melancholic because it reminds him of Peter. Now that he's gone, he misses him with all his heart.

My personal headcanon is that Rocket had feelings for Peter, but was too angry and stuck in his ways to admit it. When he was drunk, It hurt Rocket to see Peter in such a dark and depressing state. When Rocket gets hurt, it spurs Peter into action and it makes him realise how much he cares about the raccoon.

#roquill #guardians of the galaxy #peter quill #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy vol.3 #homoerotic subtext #peter quill x rocket raccoon #short essay

383 notes · View notes

emberfrostlovesloki · 7 months

Text

Eclipsed [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@without-ado) Center (@sadgirlzluvdilfs) Right (Google)

Prompt: A one-shot about how the reader saved Aaron from a date gone wrong and when Aaron, Jack, and the reader go to see the solar eclipse together.

Pairing: Aaron x fem presenting reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.

Category: Hurt/comfort/fluff (at the end)

Word Count: 6.6K

Content warnings: Mentions of a break-up and cheating (reader), mention of alcohol and drinking, there is an inebriated person (they are safe), unwanted touch (on the chest [Hotch]), mention of extremist ideologies, mention of bombings, death by bomb (unsub and victim), religious intolerance (religion not specified), veterans issues, slight body image issues (Hotch), slight depression (Hotch and reader), mention of drugs, therapists. Post - Hailey’s passing. Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Hi loves. It’s time for another meet-cute one-shot. This story is based on the fact that I got to see the solar eclipse two weekends ago. It’s also inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins and her awesome Meet Cute Writing Challenge. The prompt I went off of was: Characters are both stood up at the same date spot. I also want to thank Rome @criminalskies who I bounced this idea off of. Their comments helped build up this narrative. Also, this fic takes place a few years after Hailey’s death. Those who know about astronomy will know that those in Virginia would not actually see the full eclipse, but please just suspend your belief in reality for the sake of the story. I hope you all like this story, and if you do, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you all have a great Tuesday - Levi

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/f/a/d_ = your favorite alcoholic drink

_l/n_ = your last name

_e/c_ = your eye color - aka green eyes, brown eyes, hazel eyes, etc,

_y/n_ was nursing an old-fashioned and a bruised ego. It had been half an hour, and “Jake” hadn’t shown up for their date at the bar. She had done all the things that those trying to get back into dating recommended: Pick good realistic pictures, be honest about expectations in the bio’s, and actually get out there on dates. Because generally, relationships were rarely made solely online. One had to actually go out and meet the guy or girl that had piqued the person’s interest. _y/n_ had gone as far as Facetiming Jake to make sure he wasn’t a catfish. Something about his pictures looked a little too good to be true. But he had been real, and _y/n_ was honestly surprised that he had shown an interest in her. _y/n_ had agreed to meet him at his favorite bar downtown. She half agreed to see if Jake was pulling her leg. _y/n_ had not been very successful in her dating life. There had been a few flubbed relationships in college and then she had thought she had met the love of her life. It had started out as long distance, but she and her partner had met in person and sparks flew. They had committed and a year later they were engaged. She really thought she was going to have it all. ‘You stupid idiot,’ _y/n_’s inner monologue chided. _y/n_ took another sip of her drink. She had moved to D.C. for them. It was at that point that she realized that her supposed faithful lover had been cheating on her for five months. And there she was in a new city, looking for a new job, and in some of the worst emotional pain of her life. It had taken her a full year to recover from the hurt and betrayal. _y/n_ now looked at love with a bitterness that she never thought would happen to her. She never thought she was going to grow up to be a cat lady, and as relaxing and unbothered as that life sounded like, part of her still longed for a soft and gentle love. For someone to lean on.

As _y/n_ finished her drink, her gaze fell back to the bar. She cringed at what she saw. It had been happening for the last half hour and it was like watching a trainwreck. She wanted to avert her eyes, but she couldn’t look away. It had started when the very handsome man had stepped into the bar. He was tall and gave off a commanding aura. _y/n_ had rolled her eyes at her brain's choice of words. At this point, she checked the door every time someone came in to see if it was Jake. He was already ten minutes late. But it wasn’t Jake, it was this tall, fit man in a suit and tie that she thought might be Dolce and Gabbana. ‘Out of your tax bracket,’ she thought. _y/n_ tore her eyes away from the man and pulled out her phone to text her date. When it became apparent to her that he wasn’t coming, she got a drink for herself. She’d driven twenty minutes to get here after all, so she was going to enjoy it solo. As she turned back to her spot, she saw the man again. He was seated at a table like hers. He also seemed to be waiting for something. As she passed him, he turned his wrist to look at his watch again. _y/n_ clocked the Rolex, and she was starting to feel a bit jealous of whoever was supposed to be joining this stranger. She huffed at herself. As _y/n_ sat and took a sip of her _y/f/a/d_ she thought, ‘You really need to work on your negative self-talk.’ It took a few more minutes before the attractive man’s face seemed to fall into a morose expression. _y/n_ hadn’t seen the man smile yet, but his face was more somber now than it had been before. He was also looking at the door from time to time, and _y/n_ genuinely wondered if he had also been stood up. She couldn’t help but think, ‘Well whoever stood this guy up is a real dummy.’

A few minutes later, the man got up and moved to a seat at the bar instead. The place was crowded. She assumed he did this to make room for a group that had just entered the establishment. This meant the man was kind and had a taste in fashion. Double whammy. The trainwreck part of the night started when a woman, who was clearly a few drinks in, started hitting on the man. The inebriated woman had ordered a drink and made a comment about “How such a hot guy was at a bar alone?” The man had politely answered but showed no interest in a continued conversation. The woman did not pick up on these cues. The man declined when the woman asked to buy him a drink and to have him join her at her table upstairs. Finally, the woman went away, and the man looked relieved. But if anything, apart from the fact that the woman had probably had one too many, was the fact that she was relentless. She had come back and tried to convince the man two more times to join her or go home with her, or any assortment of awkward pick-up lines and lewd suggestions she could think of. Given what he was enduring, the man was handling the situation with incredible grace and decorum. _y/n_ actually felt a small bit of pity for the drunk woman. She didn’t have her full faculties and if she had that much to drink, she might be throwing herself at the man just the same. And now the woman was back for a third time. And this time she was getting handsy. It was at this that _y/n_ felt discomfort. The man was firmer now, but the woman’s hands continued to feel over his shoulders and chest. The man looked around uncomfortably, and _y/n_ thought, ‘Would someone stop this, please!” _y/n_ clearly realized that if someone was going to stop what was happening at the bar, then it was going to have to be her. A wild and outlandish idea hit her, and she couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She stood and approached the pair. _y/n_ cleared her throat and stood next to the man, separating him from the woman. She placed her hand on his shoulder. As he looked at her, she stated, loudly enough for the other woman to hear, “Hey, honey. Sorry, it took me so long to get here. The traffic was terrible getting into the city.”

Aaron was suffering. The latest case had been rough. The unsub was a veteran who had fallen on hard times and had started using drugs to cope with the trauma he had endured during the first invasion of Iraq. Along with the drugs, he had started to form delusions and fallen into some extremist conspiracy theories. The man had started bombing churches, and at the last minute, the team was able to save a religious building from imploding. And Aaron was relieved by this, but he had made a bad call. He fully assumed that the unsub would give up and get the treatment he desperately needed if the man’s former commanding officer gave the unsub orders to stand down. The man did seem to give up, but at the last second, the unsub approached his old superior. He pulled out a trigger and set off a pipe bomb that he had hidden in his cargo pants; killing himself and his former officer instantly. The team was lucky that the area was cleared by the bomb squad because the blast was so strong that it shook the ground and knocked out the glass windows two buildings away. And now Aaron had to live with his choice to send an active duty and decorated military officer into that situation. He had gambled and lost. After that, there had been piles and piles of paperwork, and a reprimand from Strauss about his ability to do his job well and lead the team. There was also a piece in the news highlighting the team's failure. Hotch had made sure that any heat the team took from the public was aimed at him. They hadn’t been the ones to make the call. He had. And yes, the paperwork, reprimand, and public disapproval were annoying, but it was never going to be enough to make up for the loss of life. After this, Aaron actually felt like he understood how Gideon had felt those many years ago in Boston.

Hotch had completely forgotten that he had agreed to meet a woman he was talking to on a dating app three days after he had returned home from the case. She had texted him in the morning asking if they were still on. He felt like it was too late to cancel on the woman, so he agreed even if he really wasn’t feeling it. He planned to fake it on the date, gently let the woman down, and then delete everything off his phone when he got home. He wasn’t in a place to be in a relationship right now. Aaron was glad when his date didn’t show up. Once what felt like an appropriate time had passed for him to sit at the table for two, he got up and moved to the bar. He did like this bar, which is why he had suggested it in the first place. Hotch would never be a man to drown his sorrows, but tonight, after everything that had happened, he allowed himself to have a drink alone. Then a different kind of discomfort from being stood up appeared, as a woman approached him. Aaron did everything he could to let her down and get her to leave him alone with his thoughts. The logical side of Hotch’s brain told him to get up and leave, but some maladapted piece of him told him that this was some sort of cosmic justice for his mistakes. He was uncomfortable when the woman started touching him, and at this point, with no other solution in sight apart from fleeing the scene, he got ready to close out. When another woman approached him and stood between himself and the person who had essentially been groping his chest. He felt even more apprehensive. But when the new stranger said, “Hey, honey. Sorry it took me so long to get here. The traffic was terrible getting into the city,” he blinked a few times in confusion. It took him a beat to realize what the new person was offering; a lifeline. Hotch immediately played along and said, “Now worries, darling. I’m just happy you got here safe. I know it can be a long commute.” The woman gave him a reassuring smile, and he continued, “How about we find a place that’s a little more private?” The woman nodded, and Aaron got up from his seat. The other woman who was still standing close by looked crestfallen, as the two of them moved across the room to the table _y/n_ had been sitting at before. Aaron, having the opportunity to really make this look real of the woman still standing at the bar, ghosted his arm behind his savior's waist. He didn’t actually make physical contact with her body. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, or for her to think that he was some creep taking advantage of her kindness, but he faked it well enough, and the woman at the bar made a hasty retreat upstairs.

At the table, they both sat down for a second, and Aaron sincerely said, “Thank you. I was really at a loss back there.” The woman gave him a small smile and replied, “I’m happy to help. I can’t believe that actually worked. It felt like being in the scene of a romcom.” For the first time that evening, Aaron smiled. It was small, but it was still an actual smile. He extended his hand and said, “Aaron, Hotchner.” The woman took and replied, “_y/n_, _l/n_.” There was a moment of silence and then the woman said, “Aaron huh. I kind of pegged you as a Thomas.” Again there was another silence and Aaron looked at the table and asked, “I’m sorry, am I in someone’s seat? Are you waiting for somebody?” _y/n_ seemed to deflate at this and said, “No. The man who was supposed to be meeting me made it pretty clear that he wasn’t going to show up forty minutes ago when he was allegedly arriving.” Hotch let out a breath and said, “Well, you’re not alone in that.” Hearing this response confirmed that Aaron had been stood up like she assumed. _y/n_ replied, “Sometimes I really can’t stand the idea of dating anymore.” Aaron heard the sarcastic bite of the statement, but underneath there was a real note of sorrow. He took a moment to look over _y/n_ carefully. For someone that had their date ditch them, _y/n_ seemed nonplussed, comfortable even. She was leaning against the back of her chair with one hand slung over the back. She had an air of disinterest like nothing could bother her. Somehow Aaron didn’t believe the persona she was exuding. He looked over her face. It was too dark in the bar for him to see if her _e/c_'s were dilated or not. Whenever Hotch made a close observation of those he got close to, especially women. They had some kind of attraction tell. He couldn’t figure out why exactly. What they saw in him apart from his height which he knew some people were attracted to. Other than that, he was rapidly approaching middle age, his crows-feet stated that clearly to the world. And though he tried to stay active between cases, taking care of Jack meant less physical activity, and that showed on his body. He didn’t hate himself or anything, just that he thought he could be improved. Aaron snapped to the present when _y/n_ said, “I’m going to grab another drink? Do you want something?” Hotch thought for a second. In _y/n_’s offering to get him a drink, it was an invitation for him to stay a bit longer. He didn’t want to intrude, but talking to _y/n_ meant he couldn’t hold a pity party for himself. He also wanted to see if _y/n_ really was as nonchalant as she let on. He cleared his throat and said, “Yes. A gin and tonic, please.” _y/n_ nodded and moved back to the bar.

As she went to get a second round of drinks, she could still feel how Aaron’s warm eyes had been looking at her -- deeply, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. She hadn’t fully expected him to accept her offer for a drink, but she had asked because she wanted to spend a few more minutes with him. Because she didn’t expect to spend a lot of time with anyone like this again in a long while, so why not go out with a bang? Also, there was the fact that he was very attractive. The closer he got to her, the better he looked. As she waited for her order, she casually looked back at Aaron, and he seemed to have drifted to a distant place. She frowned. Like this, he looked sad. She wondered what was bothering him so much. Before her break up, people had told her that she wore her heart on her sleeve, and she was a fool for doing so. After the cheating incident, she had buried that part of her deep inside. But sometimes it came out. When she was sad or needed comfort, or she saw someone hurting. The bartender called for _y/n_, and she took the glasses in her hand. _y/n_ moved back to the table and she set down their drinks. She was about to sit down, but a noise from behind her caught her attention.

Aaron sat straighter when _y/n_ came back. He said, “Thank you,” and he watched as _y/n_ pulled out her chair. He watched as the woman who had been hitting on him seemed to be getting ready to leave. She was on unsteady feet and had her keys out. She kept jiggling said keys as she moved toward the door. Hotch frowned and thought that he should do something. Before he could, _y/n_ quietly said, “Excuse me.” _y/n_ turned and moved a few feet across the floor to the woman. Aaron was close enough to the pair to hear _y/n_ say, “Hey ma’am. Miss.” The woman attempting to leave turned and moved toward _y/n_. _y/n_ put a steadying hand on the woman’s arm and said, “Hey again, you’re not going to try and drive home right?” The woman slurred but affirmed that was her plan. _y/n_ nodded her head no, and replied, “No. I don’t think you should drive. Let me get you an Uber or a cab?” The woman replied, “‘Is only a few blocks down. I’m okay.” _y/n_ replied encouragingly, “Great, if it’s close, then an Uber can get you there in no time and it won’t be expensive. I don’t want you driving. It’s not safe for you.” _y/n_ pulled out her phone and after a second, asked the woman for her address. It took the woman a moment, but she finally thought of it and punched it in on _y/n_’s phone. _y/n_ double-checked with the woman that this really was her address before punching the request ride button. The Uber was only two minutes away, and one of the bar's employees offered to walk the woman out once he had the license plate written down. When this was done, Aaron watched as she moved back to the table. When she sat down again, she said, “Sorry about that.” As she took a sip of her drink. He said, “Don’t be. That was very kind of you.” For the first time that night, those words seemed to get to the woman. She flushed slightly and let out the smallest of exhales. And maybe, just maybe he had been right about her not being as aloof as she let on. _y/n_ replied, “Honestly if you left me in this bar for another two hours I might be acting like her.” She paused and tacked on, “I have acted like her, many, many years ago.” Aaron and the _y/n_ spoke for the remainder of their drinks. They talked about easy topics like bands and the weather. Aaron shifted the conversation away from work. He was having an enjoyable time, and he didn’t want to have to think about his job right now. There would be plenty of time for that when he got home. As the two parted ways, neither expected to see the other ever again.

It wasn’t until next month that their paths crossed again like figure skaters on a frozen lake. Aaron was feeling much better. Less despondent. The team had really bolstered around him. They weren’t clingy, because they knew he hated that, but they had been understanding, compassionate even. Hotch was gearing up for another Monday in the office. He was just taking off his two guns and placing them along with his keys and sunglasses in a plastic container. His briefcase and duffle also went into a tray that would go through security. The security guard motioned for Aaron to move through the metal detector which he did. And as he did every day he was in the office, he lifted his arms slightly as the guard patted him down the chest and legs. This was an obvious security need for the job, but he didn’t always like it. He didn’t get a lot of physical contact, and this didn’t exactly cut it for comfort. But it was always quick, and he would grab his things and pretend that it didn’t bother him. Aaron looked up when he heard Daryl Jones's deep baritone voice coming his way. Agent Jones was the Unit Chief for the Drug and Firearm unit like he was the Chief of the BAU. The two teams intersected on cases every now and then. Aaron was never not surprised by Jones’s deep voice. It was the deepest voice he had ever heard. There was another voice too. Much lighter in pitch and tone. Hotch looked up and was surprised to see the woman who had helped him during the uncomfortable encounter at the bar. He wracked his brains for her name, and after a moment it came to him; _y/n_. The security guard let him go, and Aaron quickly took his things and moved toward _y/n_ and Jones. As he drew nearer, _y/n_ looked over to him and the surprise on her face must have looked like he had moments earlier. She looked over his badge. Rather awkwardly, _y/n_ extended her hand and said, “Hello again, Aaron.” Hotch took her hand and replied, “Good morning, _y/n_. Is everything alright?” Jones looked between the two and asked, “Agent Hotchner, do you know Ms. _l/n_?” Aaron could sense that _y/n_was slightly embarrassed, and he answered quickly, “We’ve met once before.” Jones nodded and _y/n_ looked up to Aaron and answered his question saying, “I think everything will be alright. Thanks to Agent Jones.” Daryl replied, “Well, I’ll do what I can, and if you see anything else suspicious or troubling please come and see me again, alright?” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I will, thanks.” Jones nodded and gave the woman a reassuring pat on the shoulder. As she moved forward, _y/n_ turned back to Aaron and said, “It was good to see you again Aaron.” With that, she moved through security and out the doors of the bureau.

Hotch watched, as she left, and he turned back to Jones and asked, “What was that all about?” Jones moved with Aaron back toward the elevators and said, “You know about the Menendez cocaine ring we’ve been trying to crack?” Hotch nodded yes, but wasn’t sure how this factored into the discussion of _y/n_. All the Unit Chiefs met weekly and updated the others on what was happening, and if there was any need for the teams currently working on a case to cross-coordinate. Jones’s team had been after a drug cartel for months, but every time they got close, the leads seemed to disappear. Jones had started to believe that there must be someone on the inside who was either FBI or police. As it turned out, Daryl might be right as he said, “Well Ms. _l/n_ was trying to file a report about some drug activity. Janet, my liaison had asked her why she didn’t go to the police, and_l/n_ stated that she had seen an officer she knows works for the city going into the house allegedly selling drugs. She was scared that if she reported it to LEOs, there might be repercussions.” Aaron processed the information. _y/n_ was right to avoid the cops if she expected them to be involved. There had been many cases where those supposed to be protecting and serving, overstepped those boundaries. Jones continued his story and said, “When Janet heard the part about the potential police involvement, she brought me in on the conversation. I asked Ms. -l/n_ a lot of questions. She was very patient. And by the end of that conversation, I’m pretty sure we have a good lead for Menendez.” Hotch let out a breath. For a second a flash of fear for _y/n_ moved through him. Having her, or anyone living near illegal activity was dangerous. Doubly so now that she had made a report about it. Aaron pushed that thought aside. As unfortunate as it was, he didn’t have the time to be worried about everybody. If he did there would be no time to get any work done. It was good that the Menendez case was getting some new life, and Aaron said, “It’s good you have a new lead. I understand that the case has been ongoing for a while.” Jones sighed and said, “Tell me about it.” There was a moment of silence as the men got on the elevator and pushed their floor buttons. Daryl looked over to Aaron and asked, “How do you know _y/n_ exactly;y?” Hotch flushed briefly and said, “We just ran into each other last month. I don’t know her personally.” Hotch was glad that Jones was not a profiler, because if he was, his colleague might see how his body was softly saying, ‘But you want to know her personally.’ Aaron sighed and exited the elevator on floor six. He moved past the bullpen and up to his office. As he sat, he couldn’t deny that _y/n_ was beautiful. She had been dressed up at the bar. She had been expecting a date after all. But today she was dressed more casually and it looked good on her. Aaron let out a breath and settled into his chair. It was going to be a day full of paperwork, and with head a bit aflutter, he didn’t mind the mindless work for once.

The next time they met would be the one that started their relationship. Aaron was sitting in the waiting room to be called back by his therapist. Strauss had required him to attend seven therapy sessions after the bombing incident. She didn’t want a repeat of Gideon. Aaron had gone and talked about what had happened. Talked about his feelings. It was awkward, but he knew why he needed to go. When the required sessions were over, he decided to continue with a different therapist. Someone who might better address his personal needs and complicated past. That was how he met Dr. Chekov. At the consultation, Aaron felt good, and the therapist agreed to take Aaron on as his client. Now they met monthly on Tuesday evenings after he was finished with work. Aaron was grateful to have a safe space to air his emotions and thoughts about the past and present. He thought it was doing things to better his mental health. He had slowly stopped beating himself up about his body. He was now working through the grief that was losing Hailey. It was some of the most painful work he had done, but it was necessary. He knew that he couldn’t carry that hurt forever. At least not how it was now. Aaron checked his watch. Dr. Chekov must be running over with another client. Hotch’s eyes raised to the door as the bell went off. His eyes widened when _y/n_ walked through the open door. He thought, ‘You have to be kidding me.’ The office space housed multiple therapists, so it wasn’t surprising that someone else would be waiting in the waiting room, but it was surprising that _y/n_ would end up in the same building as him, again.

_y/n_ checked in for her appointment with her therapist. She had to reschedule her appointment due to a work emergency. Her therapist, Dr. Glen, had been very accommodating and had slipped her in at a later time that week. She turned once she had handed the form to the receptionist to find a seat while she waited. The office was pretty empty, but her eyes caught onto Aaron’s, and she let out a small breath of surprise. She could see that he was just as surprised as her, and _y/n_ smiled and moved to sit next to him. She pointed to the chair adjacent to his and asked, “This seat taken?” It was a rhetorical question. Hotch chuckled at her inquiry. The office was virtually empty. He replied, “I think it is.” _y/n_ sat next to him, and as she put her purse on the ground their shoulders touched. Feeling the warmth of her body, even for a moment, made him flush. When _y/n_righted, she looked at him and said, “It’s nice to see you again, Aaron. What a surprise it would be here. How have you been doing?” _y/n_ thought back to the first time they had met and how he had looked so deeply saddened. As she looked him over, she thought he looked better. More relaxed. It made her glad. Aaron replied, “I’m doing better, I think. I’m trying.” Hotch could see that she was really looking at him. That she cared about what he was saying. After a beat, he asked, “How are you, _y/n_. How are things in your neighborhood? I might have asked Agent Jones about what was going on when I saw you at the bureau.” _y/n_ flushed when she heard that Aaron had checked in on her. She cleared her throat softly and said, “I’ve been alright. I’m kind of going through something, thus the therapy, but otherwise I’m well. And it’s the same with the neighborhood. There are still people coming and going at all hours of the night. I just avoid any interaction with them as Agent Jones suggested.” Aaron nodded and said, “Good. If you ever feel unsafe please just leave. Come to the bureau again and Agent Jones can help you figure something out.” Hotch thought about how she was going through something, and he wanted to ask what it was. But he didn’t want to pry or bring up bad memories for _y/n_. _y/n_ similarly wanted to ask Aaron about working in the FBI, but she didn’t know how much he could talk about his work given its sensitive nature. So they sat there in silence until _y/n_ finally asked, “Aaron, would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” She sounded rather embarrassed as she asked. She smiled again, brightly as he said, “I’d like that, -y/n_.”

They had gone to coffee, and neither of them approached it like a date, but by the end of the two hours of just talking, it was clear to both of them that there was a connection between them. Then they had gone rock climbing at _y/n_ favorite gym, and she had complained about how unfair it was that Aaron could get routes in so few moves due to his height. She also didn’t really believe that he hadn’t done a significant amount of bouldering before that night. When he teasingly said that he really didn’t practice beforehand, she could only assume that he was very athletic, and a man of many talents. Then they had gone to dinner. And _y/n_ met Jack when they watched a kid's movie together. And the love bloomed between them. Aaron hadn’t told the team about them yet, but he was going to ask if _y/n_ would like to join him at Rossi’s next party. It would be an easy way for her to meet the other important people in his life. But for now, they were cruising down the highway to get to a park a half hour out of town. Aaron hoped it wouldn’t be too crowded. When _y/n_ had said she was excited to see the eclipse, Aaron had suggested they go together with Jack and make a day of it. _y/n_ had readily agreed. Aaron was keeping his eyes on the road and playing some soft jazz at a low level. _y/n_ was half-turned in her seat talking to Jack about school and soccer. When they arrived at the small park, _y/n_ and Aaron were relieved to see that there weren't many cars in the lot. _y/n_ helped unbuckle Jack while Aaron carried the cooler from the back of the car. Aaron had brought some sodas for them to drink while they waited for the solar event. _y/n_ had also packed them some sandwiches and chips to snack on for lunch.

The group found a clear spot on the grass. There were a few other families and a couple or two scattered around the field. Jack was restless and asked, “What’re we waiting for Daddy?” Aaron looked over to his son and said, “Well, in around an hour something is going to happen to the sun. It will get kind of dark. We even have some special glasses so we can look at it while it happens.” Jack seemed to understand a little and said, “What happens to the sun? Is it fast?” Aaron looked over to _y/n_. She knew more about this than him. _y/n_ beamed at Jack and moved to sit in front of him. She explained, “Well, you know the sun and moon right?” Jack nodded eagerly. _y/n_ continued, stating, “Well there are some special times when the moon actually gets in front of the sun. It looks like a ring in the sky. It’s kind of like magic.” Jack’s eyes grew wide and he asked, “Why is it a ring?” _y/n_ tried to think about how to best answer. After she found the words, she said, “The sun is a lot bigger than the moon, so when the moon is in front of the sun, you can still see some of it. Isn’t that cool?” Aaron watched on with a smile at _y/n_’s enthusiasm and Jack’s attention. As much as his son seemed to want to see the eclipse, he was a six-year-old, and he got restless quickly. Aaron had brought a soccer ball in case this happened. The two played around the field while _y/n_ watched on. She watched while she was lying on her stomach, head propped up in her hands. A gentle smile was on her face. She loved looking at Aaron like this. He was so good with Jack. After he had told her about Hailey’s death, she understood why he was so protective of his son. Why the love was compounded in him. The man had lost someone so painfully. When _y/n_ thought about the hurt that he had endured, she still ached for him, even though he was happy and smiling now. She could never replace what Hailey had been to him, and they were too early in their relationship to think about marriage, but she was glad she could bring Aarons some comfort and joy.

As it got closer to the eclipse, _y/n_ gave everyone their special glasses. They all looked up to the burning star in the sky that was slowly beginning to be covered by the moon. It wasn’t until about another fifteen minutes that the moon was almost entirely eclipsing the sun. And then it happened. The moon centered in front of the sun, and the star made a perfect bright ring in the sky. Aaron looked at the phenomenon for a moment longer before he turned his face to Jack and _y/n_. He slipped off his glasses and saw the awe on Jack’s face. His gaze then fell on _y/n_ and he felt such a warmth looking at her that the sun being blocked out didn’t even make the world feel cold or darkened. Because when he looked at _y/n_ it was like he was looking at his own personal star, and they were gravitationally pulled to each other. Aaron thought about how the moon had slotted perfectly in front of the sun, forming that ring in the sky. How he felt like his life was coming full circle. The last three years had held such change. There was the pain of losing Hailey and caring for Jack, and he didn’t know how he could go on. And then, like a shooting star _y/n_ had crossed his sky, and he thought that he would never see her again. But he had, and now he had found happiness again. A lasting happiness that no cloud or moon could hide.

After the eclipse, they all had their lunches and then piled back into the car and drove home. Jack quickly fell asleep in the back seat, and _y/n_ moved her hand to his thigh, resting it on the soft flesh. Back at his apartment, _y/n_ moved Jack to his room and tucked him in while Aaron emptied the water and ice from the ice chest in the small front yard of his apartment. When he stepped back inside, he found _y/n_ seated on the couch, and he moved to her. He sat near the edge of the couch and opened his arms for her. _y/n_ nestled into his arms and chest, and he snaked his arms around her back. One of his hands rested on her lower back and the other was softly stroking the area between her shoulder blades. _y/n_ relaxed against him and hummed contentedly. Aaron quietly asked, “Is Jack still asleep?” He could feel her nod her head yes against his chest, and she replied, “Yes. He’s out like a light. I think this was a pretty exciting day for him.” Hotch moved his hands to her hips, and he set his head back a little to rest on the side of the couch. At this angle, he could see some of Jack's door and the hallway that led to his room. The feeling of _y/n_ resting on him was never going to get old to him. It brought him such comfort. After a short silence, he asked, “Did you enjoy today? I know you were looking forward to it.” _y/n_ replied, “I really did. I love spending time with Jack, and you of course.” As she spoke, her hands made their way to his chest and then slowly down his stomach. Aaron closed his eyes at the warmth that seeped through him. She continued talking, saying, “I think it’s so amazing that we live on this speck of dust in an infinite universe, and we get to get to see it working. I think that’s pretty special.” Hotch hummed his agreement. He loved it when she spoke like this. Honest and slightly rambling, but fully from the heart. When she had told him about the person who had left her bitter and emotionally broken, he could understand and empathize. But when she spoke like this, he knew that she was coming back to herself. That she was comfortable sharing her heart with him. _y/n_ slipped her hand under his polo and he sucked in a breath. Her fingers gently moved over his abdomen. _y/n_ used her middle finger to swirl the trail of hair that started at his belly button and grew lower down his navel. Her touch wasn’t sexual, though it could be if they wanted it. But of course, they would never do that with Jack so close. The contact was just to let Aaron know that she was here. _y/n_ found her voice and said, “It was also beautiful. It’s unique. There’s nothing else like it in the universe, and I love it very, very much.” Hotch could sense that she was looking at him, and when he opened his eyes he felt his breath leave his body. She was watching over him with such care and affection, and he knew she wasn’t speaking about the eclipse anymore. As he shifted up to kiss her with a passion. He said, “I love you _y/n_. More than anything in the world.” They bridged the gap between them, and as their mouths met, it was like the sun kissing the moon, impossibly unlikely, but beautiful and rare as an eclipse.

___________________________________________________________

Taglist: @criminalskies @tgskitten

Want to be added to the list? Please check out my CM Taglist Post (linked)

#criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotcher #reader insert #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #aaron x reader #aaron x y/n #hotch blurb #hotch ramble #hurt/comfort #Hotch goes to therapy #meet cute #cm #eclipse #cute #hotch fluff #criminal minds x reader #non!bau reader

57 notes · View notes

inej-ruination-ghafa · 1 year

Text

LOVE AND WAR

001; I CAN BRING YOU IN WARM

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Warnings: guns, violence, alcohol, drunkness, blood, knives, allusion to slavery

Summary: you had spent your entire life running, from corellia, from your family, from the empire and now from bounty hunters. But when one man sees how you care for his child, what is he going to do with himself, especially as he finds himself falling for you

Wordcount: 3.9k

Daiyu was the worst planet you’d ever been on and it wasn't for the lack of nightlife or for the lack of interesting jobs but because of its weather. With a dark black hood over your head, hands pressed into the pockets as you walked through the crowded cities, you scanned the area for anyone with a bounty puck.

This time 6 years ago, you were one of the most celebrated people in the entire galaxy. You had people fawning over you left right and centre, you had more medals than you could possibly want and you had everything. Or so you thought.

You tried not to think about that time of your life too often and on a planet like this, you didn't have to think about much about anything for too long of a time. It was easier to sit there in one of the bars, a drink in your hand as you drowned in the neon lights and the large crowds that swarmed the city.

However, the planet required you to constantly be looking over your shoulder, always watching out for the next person who was going to try and attack you, whether it be imperial sympathisers, random drunken men with no impulse control or bounty hunters.

You had spent your entire 20s saving the galaxy, joining in on the rebellion and whilst your brother and your best friends got to sit pretty in their Jedi training camps or their coruscant apartments or their thrones, you were stuck living day by day, hiding from bounty hunters.

There was no way to determine when you changed from the hero to the girl being hunted down by Bounty Hunters every other week but you assumed it had something to do with Lady Proxima, a tall white grindalid who looked after you - more like worked to the core - after your parents death.

She was the one who had set the bounty after you nearly eighteen months ago now and though you wished you could escape it, you had no regrets for trying to kill her - the act that landed you with a bounty in the first place.

In the distance, you spotted the nearby nightclub and cantina and it wasnt hard to distinguish its flashing lights from the dark dreary weather on Daiyu. You looked around, pulling the hood off your head as you took shelter under the opening to a loud nightclub. You looked around before stepping inside, entering the world of drugs and mayhem and forgetting.

Hesitantly at first, you pushed your way through the mass of people that had grouped in the middle, dancing along with the live band in the corner. You pushed past a human and a zabrak making out in front of the bar as you tried to make it to the alcohol as fast as possible.

You pulled a chair back at the bar, your jacket now draped over your lap as you called out to the twi’lek at the bar to bring you a drink. In a few seconds, she placed the drink on the bar in front of you, waiting for you to slide a handful of credits across the smooth surface before walking away.

You reach for the shot glass on the table, swirling it around for a second before pulling it to your lips and downing the glass in one fluid motion, throwing your head back before putting the glass back down on the table.

The burning feeling was present in the back of your throat, causing your nose to scrunch up in a mix of disgust and euphoria as you allowed the drink to overwhelm your senses. You opened your eyes, pushing your lips together as you looked at the bartender again, hand raised to signal her over.

Before she made it over to you, another man slid up next to you. He was a slimy man with greasy blonde hair that was sticking to his temple and the way that he looked at you, almost like a stick of meat, made you sick to your stomach.

“You want to buy some death sticks?” He questioned, his voice hoarse like he'd been smoking them all morning - and it wasn't even 12 o’clock yet, not like you’d be able to tell that with the dreary grey weather on the planet.

You had dealt with your fair share of assholes at bars - actually, you had dealt with your fair share of assholes in general - but today you were not in the headspace to fight with him.

It had been nine years since the day that you had lost your best friend, a memory that you didn't want to spend too much time thinking about. All you wanted to do was drown in your liquor and forget about the troubles of the world, to just watch it spin around you.

“She doesn't want to do that,” a deep voice said and you felt chills run down your spine at the sound of it. There was something about this low, almost modulated voice that drew you to him and slowly, you turned around to see a man standing there.

He was tall and still but the most recognisable feature was that he was covered in armour. It was glistening, multi-coloured in the club's neon lights and there was no expression in his body language and you couldn’t see his face to determine what he was thinking either.

You took a deep breath in, eyes narrowing on the man. You two were looking at each other - or at least you assumed he was looking at you - and neither was moving. The man trying to sell you death sticks just rolled his eyes, standing up and tucking his seat in before stumbling towards the group of people to sell too.

You hadn’t realised that you’d been staring at the man for too long, an uncomfortable amount of time really, but when you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, you looked away from his visor and back at the new shot on the bar in front of you, “I don’t need to be saved,”

He didn't make a noise, just reaching into his pocket and before you could panic and imagine him pulling out a blaster and shooting you point blank, he pulled out a holo-puck and you couldn’t figure out which scenario was worse. You stared at your face as it spun around on top of the holo-puck, your name plastered at the top of it.

Your eyes trailed from the puck to him and he hasn't moved a muscle. There was something uncovering about the man and you couldn’t tell whether it was the fact that you couldn’t see his face and recognise any emotions, or if it was his regular demeanour.

“I guess this means you’re not going to buy me a drink,” you teased, standing up from your seat at the bar. Now standing up, you realised how tall he was, towering over you as you tried to find an escape plan.

He didn't laugh at the joke and you assumed his face was as emotionless as his body as he stated, “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,” The modulator made his voice deep, the sound reverberating through your body.

Your breath hitched in your throat because although you should be scared of this emotionless bounty hunter who was probably here to kill you, you werent. There was something about him that you couldn’t put your finger on that made you feel intimidated yet secure.

“What does cold entail?” You questioned, hoping the slight fear bubbling up wasn't too obvious in your voice.

He tilted his head to the side slightly. Nobody had ever asked him that before and if Din was being honest, you weren’t like any bounty he had hunted down before. One, you were definitely the most beautiful bounty he had ever encountered. And two, you were the most calm; everyone else would either be running or begging at this point but you were doing neither, just staring him down like you could see through the visor.

“Carbonate,” he stated, his voice cold.

You felt a shiver run up your spine at the word, and not the good kind of shiver. There weren't many things that scared you in this universe, maker, you’d even encountered Darth Vader himself bur carbonate, that was what scared you. You’d seen someone you cared dearly about be stuck in there for half a year and you’d seen what it could do.

He noticed your shift in demeanour at that movement. Whilst your face didn't react to the words, he could see the flash of fear in your eyes, a small crease appearing between your brows.

“Well then Mr Mandalorian, I think I might have outstayed my welcome,” you stated and before he could respond to what you said or even comprehend it, you were ducking down under his clas arm the knife which appeared in your hand dragging along a slit between the pieces.

He swore under his breath, eyes scanning the room before seeing someone with a similar hood to yours running out of the door into the pouring rain and when you made the mistake of turning back round, hood falling from your head, his eyes met yours and he started running through the crowd.

Din shook his head as he pushed through the high and intoxicated people of the planet, knocking one or two of the down as he tried to make it up for the maker forsaken club.

When he got outside, the rain hitting his armour, he scanned the area for you but he had no idea where you went. He shook his head, unsure how he could’ve lost you.

The sound of a vendor yelling and a crate of fruit falling to the floor in a near alleyway was a telltale sign of escape and he decided to hitch his bets and chase down that way and lucky for him, the maker was on his side today as he saw you running round the corner, wet from the rain.

He chased after you, feet carrying him as fast as he could as he raced around the unfamiliar streets of Daiyu. He didn't know why you were being hunted but he didn’t care, as long as it gave him enough money for petrol and food for him and Grogu.

You looked behind you, swearing out loud as you trod in a puddle, broken shoes filling with water. You kept going despite the pain in your legs and the burning in your lungs. You’d be damned if you survived Darth Vader himself but a Mandalorian took you out.

Stopping round a corner, your hands on your legs as you caught your breath, you thought you’d be okay and you were. You found the best way out but then you saw a group of men shooting at this round ball.

You watched as they laughed to themselves, shooting at this thing that you suddenly recognised as a pram. That’s when you spotted a small green alien sitting behind the pedestal, looking up at you.

Every instinct told you that you had to keep running from that Mandalorian bounty hunter that was pretty ready to ‘take you in cold’ but your morals told you that you had to save the little baby from whatever these rogue gang members wanted from him.

You sighed, shaking your head as you pulled your blaster out, closing one of your eyes as you shot one of the three men in the head, killing him instantly. The next shot hit the second man in the stomach and he doubled over, hands on his stomach as the other man searched for where the gunshot came from.

He let out a yell as he noticed you, the two men shooting at you and you managed to take them both down before rushing down and grabbing the child. He was small and green and as you held him in your arms, he reached out for you with little green hands.

“What’s your name, little one?” You asked, watching as he grasped one of your fingers with his little hand. He just babbled and you assumed that he was too small to answer you so you smiled, giving him your name.

When you heard more yelling and blaster fire, you assumed that there were more gang members and you hid behind a wall, hearing them yelling about finding the child.

“They're talking about you kiddo?” You questioned, voice quiet so that they didn’t hear you. He cooed, a mischievous smile on his face and you assumed it was him.

You didn't know what to do, just waiting and looking around and hoping that they had passed. You had also managed to escape the Mandalorian that was after you and as soon as you got this kid back to his family, you were going to get off of this planet and find the next hiding spot, maybe .

That's when you heard more blaster fire and the body of one of the gang members fell down at your feet as you shielded the child from its view.

You assumed that they were all dead when it went quiet and you stepped out hesitatingly, blaster in one hand and the child in your other. He cooed, smiling up at you as you looked around, “Listen, don’t be worried, i'm going to find your parents,”

You felt a presence behind you and froze up, turning around and looking up at The Mandalorian who had been hunting you down earlier. He was wet from the rain as well and when he noticed that you had a little child in your arms, he tilted his head in confusion.

Now it was your time to start bartering and you stepped back, holding the child closer to your chest, “Listen, take me in warm, I don’t care, just let me find this kid's parents,” you said.

Din felt his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you, an insanely beautiful bounty, holding his child to your chest protectively. There was something weird about the feeling bubbling up in his chest, one that he’d never felt before.

The child reached his little arms out, giggling to himself as he tried to reach for Din and you looked at it confused, “He’s mine,” he stated, a small bit of emotion evident in his voice.

Your brows furrowed as you looked down at him, the child cooing in your arms as you placed him back down in his slightly battered cot. He used the controls, going back over to Din and looking up at him.

“You’re an awful parent, leaving him here alone,” you said, your blaster still in your hand. You

Din smiled to himself under the helmet, glad that you couldn’t see his amused reaction to your comment, “I didn’t, he must have escaped my ship,” he stated, that cold tone to his voice.

You sighed, looking up at him. You brushed your wet hair from your face, only now realising that you were still standing in the rain, “You gonna take me in warm Mr Mandalorian?” You asked, hands held out in surrender.

He cocked his head to the side and you definitely recognised that movement as confusion, “You’re just giving up like that?” He questioned.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’m not going to be able to convince you to let me go,” you stated and he nodded, reaching into his back pocket, eyes narrowed and focused on her; he didn’t understand why she was just letting him take her away.

He had his hands on the restraints, about to put them on her when more gang members sped around the corner, looking around for the two of them - and by that, they were looking for Din and Grogu.

The Mandalorians head was spinning with the events of the days and his oddly submissive bounty and as he looked at the people who were hunting down the child and trying to kill him, he knew he had to make a rash decision that any other day he would scold himself for.

He turned to you, pushing your hands down and putting the restraints back onto his belt, “Can you shoot?” He asked, his voice still cold but now you could sense a bit of fear in it. It was strange, how you could feel this emotionless man opening up to you little by little but you could.

“Can I shoot?” You teased, repeating the question back at him before pursing your lips together and nodding, “Of course I can,”

Din nodded, looking down at you just as the gang members looked into the alleyway, one of them exclaiming that they had found the child and you wondered what was so interesting and lucrative about this kid that this many people were ready to die for.

He looked back at you, taking a few steps forward, “Stay in front of the kid okay,” he stated and you nodded, watching as he began shooting at them.

You looked back at the child who put the lid over his pram and you turned back and started shooting, the sound of blaster fire echoing through the alleyway.

This morning when you woke up in tha5 small, damp hostel, this wasn’t how you expected the day to go. You would never have imagined that you would be standing in the pouring rain, fighting alongside the man who was trying to take you in as a bounty so that you could protect his son.

You slid down, the rain making the cobblestone pavement wet as you slid under the man's legs, slicing through his thighs with your knife and watching as he collapsed down, your knife jamming into the back of his neck. You pulled it out with a grunt, wiping the blade on your trousers before grabbing your blaster and shooting the man behind you.

Din watched in awe, he shouldn’t feel this way towards anyone, especially not towards a bounty but the second that he had laid eyes on you in the cantina bar, he knew there was something special about you and now, as you stabbed men to protect his son, he shouldn’t have felt as turned on as he did.

You turned around, spinning on the heel of your foot as you shot another one, watching him fall down with a scream. It was the last man and as you took a deep breath, pushing your wet hair out of your face and looking at the Mandalorian, you smiled.

He watched as you stepped over the myriad of bodies on the floor, using the pad of your thumb to wipe some of the blood that had splattered on your chin away and you walked up to the cot, watching as the child opened the lid.

He chuckled at the sight of you and you smiled back at him before looking up at the Mandalorian. Your smile fell as your eyes landed on his helmet, unable to see what he was thinking and he was glad you couldn’t see underneath because he was sure that from the heat on his cheeks, he was blushing like a schoolboy.

There was an awkward silence that fell as you looked around at the bodies that littered the floor of the alleyway and you held your hands out again, “Take me in warm?” You questioned.

You could hear the faint sound of his breath hitching in his throat through the modulator as he pushed your hands away. He watched as your brows pulled together, a deep crease appearing between them as you looked up at him, "They won't be needed,"

You chuckled, a slight smile tugging at the corner of your lips, "You might be the nicest bounty hunter I've ever encountered," you stated and Din knew that if you could see under his helmet, you'd have teased him for the way his cheeks were bright red as he looked at you.

Being in his mid thirties, he had spent the best part of twenty years hidden under the helmet and away from the world and with his helmet on, he could be as expressive as he wanted, a superpower that was working overtime right now.

"Lets go," he said, keeping his head held high as the child followed in the hovering pram next to him.

You had so many questions that were trying to bubble up to the surface but you pushed them away, not wanting to agrivate the man who was being so kind to you whilst holding your life in his hands.

Some people looked at you as you walked alongside him and now you wondered if the attention was from the gunfire earlier or from the large Mandalorian you were walking with.

You looked up at him, continuing to walk. You’d only encountered one mandalorian before and he had been a bounty hunter too but you knew that’s not all they ever did. The one you were walking with now hadnt told you his name unlike the last one and this one was a lot more quiet and reserved.

There were so many questions swimming in your head and it made you dizzy as you wondered what this man wanted and why he was being so kind. Why did he have a kid? Why was he green? Was the Mandalorian green? What was your bounty for? What did he want?

“You okay?” He asked, his voice snapping you out of your thoughts and that’s when you’d realsied you’d stopped and had been staring at him for at least thirty seconds. He had his head cocked to the side, one hand on his hip as he stopped as well a few feet in front of you.

He was waiting for your answer and you nodded, a smile appearing on your face to try and be polite as you started walking again, “Just got lost in thought, its been a long day,” you stated, tryin to make your excuse sound plausible. You couldn’t just explain that you’d been staring at him.

Din hummed in response, continuing to walk alongside you, guiding you in right direction towards a ship that you recognised as a razor crest. You walked towards it, one hand brushing over the cold and slightly wet metal of the ship as you looked back at him, eyes wide, “You have a Razor Crest?”

He nodded, walking over to you, “Let’s go,” he said and your face dropped as you watched him walk up the ramp, remembering that you were just a bounty to him like you’d already forgotten that.

He didnt notice and just watched as you walked up the ramp as well, looking around at the room and watching as he picked up the child and placed him on the floor. The little child giggled, running in the direction of the cockpit and you just watched, as smile on your face.

Din looked back at you, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the smile on your face and when you made eye contact - or he made eye contact with you - he gestured to the cockpit, “You probably want to come sit down, we’re going to jump into hyperspace soon,” he explained.

You nodded, muttering a thank you as you squeezed past him into the cockpit, seeing the child having already strapped himself into the seat behind the pilots seat. Din came in, his hand brushing against the child’s head which made him laugh, before he sat down in the pilots seat.

You strapped yourself in, eyes focused on the front window as you felt that familiar presssure of hyperspace, watching the blue lights in the distance get closer, laughing you three into an unknown destination to you. But you were so ready for it.

So this is the first chapter of the bounty x bounty hunter series and I hope you enjoyed it, I really love the concept and can't wait to expand on it. If you liked it, I would love to hear any feedback. Also, I am going to be opening a taglist so if you want to be added, just send an ask or comment on here, I don't mind. Hope you enjoyed it :)

Taglist:

@babygirlrex0504

197 notes · View notes

bidisasterevankinard · 10 months

Text

Inspiration Saturday

tagged by @hippolotamus (all the credit for me choosing violence to my beautiful wife cause she started it) , @spotsandsocks @loserdiaz @wildlife4life thank you 💙💙💙💙

Do I know when I will write it? Not even a little bit. It was little idea while i was walking some days ago and i just wrote some lines. But yep exes to lovers buddie here (they dated after 3x10 but after well Eddie ended it)

Eddie hates that he can't see Buck now. He hates that so far they let only a family in his room. He hates that none of the doctors will talk to him. And he hates how his heart screams that he could be the main person now in everything that concerns Buck, that if he hadn't ended their relationship then, perhaps now he could have a ring on his finger and the opportunity to know everything as a husband.

Eddie is sure that they could have actually been married by now. Because Buck or even he couldn’t be dating more than a year without popping a question. Eddie is almost sure Buck would be on his knees with the most breathtaking speech Eddie ever heard, despite Buck’s stuttering at almost every word it would be perfect for Eddie because it would be the best moment in his life except the moment Chris was born.

But they're not married and he's just a best friend.

All they had apart from years of friendship was three months when Eddie allowed himself to be happy, three months when he allowed himself to want and have, and then threw them away to suffer himself and see how Buck suffers, which only made everything for him worse.

All these months, Eddie can't stop wondering if that look and Buck's slight emphasis on the words about the couch meant that Buck begged him to tell him that they could try again, that Buck gave him a chance to say "let's do it again, but this time will do it right, okay?". The chance to tell him that Eddie's in love and his attempt not to fall in love with Buck is long dead.

Dead as Buck was in his hands. And maybe he will be again soon. Because Bobby said Buck was in a coma, said that everything looks bad and that the doctors miraculously did not lose him again.

The doctors said there was little chance Buck would wake up again and they should be prepared.

And Eddie wants to scream that it's not fair, that they should work better, should do more, should give him his lover back.

But more he wants to cry wrapped up in the hoodie Buck left the day Eddie told him they should finish their “thing”(Eddie still remembers he never could actually name it somehow and Buck let him never name it) before he’s in love if only he knew it wouldn't save him.

Then maybe he heard Buck say he loved him at least once. He could hear it every day he thinks with bitterness like someone poured vinegar in his mouth, because Buck would love him fully with his big heart, never letting Eddie even question his love. He would always show Eddie how much he’s loved. But it was never their case. Because Eddie was a coward and asshole and broke the best thing he had in his hands when it was so little, scared it would kill him one day. He was so scared of loving Buck that he never considered that never has a chance to love Buck before one of them dies, it’s worse. So now he is drowning in the pain of the possible loss of half of his heart and not knowing if Buck is still in love. Not knowing if he has a chance if Buck would open his incredible sky eyes.

Tagging if they want to share : @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @ebdaydreamer @alyxmastershipper @transbuck @cowboy-buddie @lover-of-mine @heartshapedvows @bekkachaos @giddyupbuck @rogerzsteven @shortsighted-owl @buddierights @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @hippolotamus @transboybuckley @devirnis @buck-coded @spotsandsocks @monsterrae1 @spaceprincessem @userdisaster @caroandcats @mandzuking17 @translasso @firemedicdiaz @jesuisici33 @bigfootsmom @jeeyuns @forthewolves @eddiediaztho and anyone who wants to share

#fic: we were perfect love. we can be perfect again #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #buddie wip #911 #Spotify #my wips

78 notes · View notes

charmingpplincardigans · 3 months

Text

How’s everyone doing? I’ll go first, I’m bad!

I have been ~*~struggling~*~ since mid-September and in the last two weeks it has just gotten unbearable. I feel like I’m drowning all the time. I’m having trouble keeping up with and reaching out to people I want to talk to. And that’s like, on top of always having been bad at getting back to people. *stares forlornly at the ask Chaz sent me like, literally two years ago that I think about daily but just. haven’t. RESPONDED TO.*

Things are just. Closing in on all sides unfortunately. I’ve been sick several times. I bounced this month’s rent check. A thing I had NEVER DONE BEFORE IN MY LIFE before this last move. My job is literally never going to pay me what I’m worth. Or anyone what they’re worth, frankly. I broke down in front of my boss the other day and just sobbed for an hour because after I pay my bills every paycheck I have just enough left over to buy groceries for two weeks, if I’m careful, and little else. Which means I’m putting stuff like gas on credit cards, which isn’t helping the debt that makes me feel like drowning in the first place. I’ve been at this job SEVENTEEN YEARS. A steady, corporate job. And I’ve never once in my entire time there made an actual cost of living raise!! The cost of living just keeps raising without me! (And also everyone else, I know!)

I’m super overdue on getting people the art they commissioned from me, but my brain just hasn’t been in a good enough place to create much of anything, and I keep thinking I have to get this done and then thinking they deserve better than this, around and around on a loop ad finitum. And there are a couple of other things going on personally that just fucking blow that I don’t know how to fix and I’m just gonna choke on it.

I haven’t done any fandom stuff since NYCC. I haven’t written on my WIP. I haven’t read fic. I don’t check in on the madness happening on twitter. I’ve barely popped my head into my favorite pirate group chat over the last five months or so. I miss doing all of that so much and my stupid brain is so broken that even when I try I can’t enjoy it.

Shit. I’m having a hard time getting work work done. I just sit down at my desk every day, answer emails, and then spend five or so hours frozen with anxiety because there’s too much to do and doing nothing is only making it worse every day.

I need to be back in therapy ASAP, but unfortunately you can’t eat therapy so I can’t pay for it!!

And I feel guilty saying any of this to almost everyone I would usually talk to. (Congrats and condolences to the rest of you!) Because they’re having a harder time than me. Or because they’d just want to give me a bit of money about it, which would fuck me up even more. Or because it’s just tedious and boring and no one wants to listen to me talk about this over and over again, even though it’s all my brain does every hour of every day. It’s a wonder I’m ever able to talk about anything else.

My boss is pretty great, in spite of it all. She’s constantly supportive (to the extent she can be), and she just. She tells me all the time how creative and wonderful and smart and cool to know I am. And every time I just like, tear up, because none of it feels true. But I also tear up when my friends and my partner say those things too. Because to me, a full grown adult without a savings or a 401K or the ability to like, go get drinks just because I want to, I feel like a complete and utter failure. So like. Whatever I guess!!

I need to find a new job that pays me way more. Then I can get a therapist to fix my brain and save money to pay down my debts and have money to have fun with my friends and not feel like a constant financial burden on everyone. Then I can have the brain power back to maybe work on my fic or complete that art or like, I don’t know, talk to the people who actively want to talk to me. You wouldn't think that part would be so hard, but it really, really is.

I’m working on it. I’ll keep working on it. I have LinkedIn open right now. I’m gonna fucking sob through it, but that doesn’t mean none of it will get done.

In the meantime, if anyone knows of a good way to make a quick $30 grand, I’m all ears.

#no one cares kl #it's an old-fashioned two am post #at four in the afternoon!#that's how bad things are!#all my shame units are being used so i don't have any to spare #on whether or not i should be messy in public!!!

36 notes · View notes

abimess · 2 years

Text

Fucked Up

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your boss has been having a tiring day at work. Luckily for her, you're there to give her exactly what she needs. [Requested]

Word count: 4.571 || Pronouns: not used

Warnings: boss!Wanda, smut (18+ only!), power bottom!Wanda, strap on use, office sex, hair pulling

A/N: My intentions were to only come back with the stories when my semester was over, but I ended up having some free time today and when I checked Tumblr I saw we'd reached 4k followers! (Thank you all so much by the way) So, not to let this milestone go unnoticed, I decided to post a story I had saved in my drafts for a few weeks. Enjoy!

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Masterlist | Be notified of my stories (Read on: Wattpad)

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

Wanda Maximoff walked briskly into her office today.

Not the usual steps you had become accustomed to, the stiletto heels clicking rhythmically while she kept her chin up. No, today's were different.

They were edgy, as if the shoes were about to pierce the floor and send her crashing to the floor below. It was the kind of walk that made the surrounding conversations slow down as all the employees watched her with curiosity and, especially, apprehension.

Not looking at the door every time the redhead arrives has become something that - after endless failures - you have given up pretending not to do. So obviously you had already memorized every one of her details, every one of her movements.

You deduced that the large sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose were there to cover her face, perhaps disguise her countenance. Still, even from a few tables away, it wasn't hard to notice her lips hardened, her jaw clenched.

Wanda didn't just look irritated, she looked furious. Something must have happened and the sip you took from my water bottle did nothing to control your concern.

By the way the redhead entered her office, slamming the door and then closing all the blinds that prevented the free view provided by the large glass windows, your suspicions are confirmed.

You didn't think twice before getting up, picking up a stack of papers stapled together that you had printed out earlier today. You sense a few stares following you as you walk, but honestly, you can't care much, your thoughts entirely focused on the redhead.

"Good morning, Ms. Maximoff, I have some reports I'd like to discuss with you." You lied as you closed the door, in an attempt to ensure that none of your colleagues suspected the interaction with the head of the department.

Concern for the redhead was not something friendly and kind among co-workers. In fact, to be honest, you knew nothing about half the people who shared this floor with you.

It all started a few months ago, amidst delayed paperwork and late nights at the office.

Wanda took over her father's company a few years after he retired, when her twin brother decided that spending the family's money on travel and luxury items was much more worthwhile than sitting behind a desk and coordinating hundreds of people.

You knew from day one that things would improve with the arrival of the redhead.

Nothing against Pietro, really he's a nice guy, and despite his rebellious and carefree nature, he was a good boss. But there's something about his sister that made her exceptionally better.

Maybe it's the way she always pushes her employees to be better - without ever overwhelming or mistreating them. Or it was the way she always knew the best decision to make, almost like an instinct.

Whatever it was, it was impossible not to admire her as a person and as a boss, and you were certainly part of the long list that did.

But it turned out that this admiration went beyond work ethic issues, and this is something you would never admit within the walls of this building. Well, not until what happened a few months ago.

At that time, you had just moved to a better apartment closer to work. And moving processes are as chaotic as they can be. So to make up for your late deliveries of documents and reports, you used to stay late, a little after the official working hours.

It was then that you realized how much time Wanda spent in the office. Seeing her arrive early, at the same time as the employees, was something that caused instant surprise, since Pietro usually arrived after lunch - that is, of course, when he showed up.

But to see her being the last to leave, that surprised you even more.

"A little late to be working, isn't it, Y/n?" She asked you at the time, and the question came accompanied by a little smile as she saw you jump startled.

As you swiveled in your office chair to see her better, you thought about retorting in the same tone. But deciding that you weren't close enough for that kind of banter, you settled for a smile.

"Yeah, I'm just finishing up checking some documents due today." You explained, glancing at the computer screen, whose light was already starting to hurt your eyes.

The redhead hummed in understanding as she leaned over to check the data on the computer, the clarity making her eyes even greener. But you obviously shouldn't be thinking about the color of your boss's eyes. Nor much less about how, just below them, her skin was peppered with freckles.

So you looked away, pretending to brush the dust off the table with your fingers. Luckily for you, she soon straightened her posture, recovering the distance that had been between the two of you.

"Well, if you help me with something, I'll let you hand this in tomorrow." The redhead then suggested, smiling a small smile, a mixture of politeness and sweetness that you couldn't help but wonder if she shared it with everyone else.

But then you silly questioning was cut short as you finally realized her question, frowning in curiosity. In response, Wanda nodded slightly, inviting you to follow her. Silently, you stood up.

"Victor gave me the allotment report for the week," she says as you walk together to her office, "but some of the numbers seem odd to me. I'll talk to him about it tomorrow, but I wanted a second opinion on it."

You nodded in agreement, not really knowing what to say. It is no secret that Doom is not the type to take his work seriously, which has already resulted in several problems. These, however, were solved by other people - including you, sometimes in the past - so the guy didn't mind too much as long as it didn't affect him directly.

Still, Victor is your co-worker, and to bad-mouth any of them with your boss seemed a bit inappropriate. Appearing to notice your thoughts, the redhead smiled, but didn't comment further.

This was not the first time you had been in Wanda's office, but neither time were you invited to join her on her side of the table. It's funny how things look friendlier from that angle than from the opposite side.

The redhead has some family photos scattered around the table, some decorations next to jars with colored pens. On the woman's computer rest screen, there are two smiling children and, smiling too, you ask before you can contain yourself. "Are those your children?"

Wanda knits her eyebrows together briefly in confusion as she settles into her chair, but as soon as her gaze follows yours, she smiles easily. "Yes, they're my boys." She proudly explains, and you didn't even realize how your own smile widened. "Billy and Tommy. They're twins, you know? Just like me and Pietro."

"That's actually really cute-" your thoughts were lost as you looked at the redhead and, unlike just a moment ago, she was teary-eyed. Conflict danced inside you, wondering what to do or say. But before you had a chance to make up your mind, the woman spoke again.

"I'm sorry." She asked amid a tearful laugh, wiping the corners of her eyes with her hands. "It's just... I'm going through a difficult time, my husband and I are getting divorced. But of course you already know that, gossip runs easily around here."

"I didn't know." You told, which was a lie. "Much." You added when she looked at you in disbelief, and something in your stomach did a flip when she let out a low chuckle, shaking her head in amused disapproval before sighing.

"Yeah, not much to say." She comments with a shrug. "I spend a lot of time in the office and away from home. He found someone else to do what I wasn't doing."

Despite the tone of acceptance, Wanda's look shows the pain of betrayal, and noticing it would make anyone's heart heavy. Now, it is very complicated to comfort your boss in such a delicate and personal matter, so of course you had no idea what to say at that time.

Don't worry, Wanda, your husband is an asshole, you'll find someone better.

What a bastard son of a bitch! Do you want to go and slash his tires? I'll drive!

I'm sure this was the dumbest decision of his life, I have no doubt that very soon he will be back at your feet.

All seemed to you to be valid options and fairly true. But still, she was your boss, and you were just the employee who was available to help her with some badly filled-out reports. None of those options were really appropriate.

You only realized that you had spent a long time in silence when she brought her gaze to you, and panic was immediate. But before you could stammer out some nonsense to fill the space between the two of you, the redhead was speaking again.

"Sorry to burden you with my problems, it's just that I signed the papers earlier today, I guess I'm a little emotional." Wanda says with an unconvincing chuckle, and for the first time you have a reaction in time for a response.

"Don't worry about it," You assured her, "anyone would get emotional in a situation like this, it's understandable. You don't have to be the badass boss all the time." The last sentence made her genuinely laugh this time, which you appreciated, as this was exactly your intention.

"Thank you." The redhead lets out softly, and it was there the first time you noticed how beautiful she is.

Of course, you were not immune to the charms of Wanda Maximoff. Red hair perfectly falling over her shoulders covered by some new suit she had recently purchased that flattered her body even more than the previous one. A fierce, determined look in her eyes that made anyone walk the line.

All this was very well appreciated by you. Perhaps - certainly - even more than you should appreciate. That inherent beauty of Miss Maximoff that had at least half the floor drooling when she walked by.

But at that moment, just the two of you, in her office, when all the other people had already left the building. There it was as if you finally saw Wanda, just Wanda. With gentle eyes and sweet smile, with laughter that was not afraid to be loud.

It was as if she was a whole new woman before your eyes and it was frightening the effect she had on you.

Once again you realized the silence the both of you shared. You looking at her and her looking at you. Inappropriate. So you looked away.

It didn't take long for the redhead to follow your movement, and so the two of you began to work on Victor Doom's poorly done report. Despite the very low quality of the document before your eyes, it doesn't even compare to other reports you have had to correct in the past, and this is what you try to keep in mind as you correct graph after graph.

At first you thought it would be strange to work with Wanda by you side. A part of you - the part that is most anxious and that you have to live with every day - kept repeating that she would notice all your faults and fire you the next day.

But it wasn't. Instead, it was very productive. To your surprise, the two of you thought very similarly, and it was curious to see how your ideas complemented each other.

Still, amidst all the data to check and tables to correct, the conversation you had did not leave your mind. The crying eyes, the fragile voice, and the fact that her ex-husband had made her suffer like that. How could any person make a woman like Wanda suffer like that?

"He didn't deserve you." You widen your eyes as soon as the line passes your lips. Maybe you should have accepted the mug of coffee the redhead had offered you a few minutes ago, because your sleepy brain is clearly not helping you right now.

Taking your eyes off the screen and bringing them to the woman next to you is easily one of the most difficult activities you have ever had to perform, so you did it in slow motion. When your gaze met hers, surprised and expectant, you sighed in surrender. You had already started, it was better to finish at once.

"You are an amazing woman, Wanda." You say. "And perhaps it is extremely inappropriate what I'm telling you now, but you are. You are kind and professional, and yes, maybe you spend too much time here, but you're just doing your job and you should be admired for it, not punished. And only a person with a tiny mind and scared of the success of the woman he has would do what he did to you. I would never-"

You bite my tongue to stop. That was too much already. It feels like if you stretch your hand in the air you'll feel the weight of the tension surrounding the two of you as Wanda's silence grows, digesting the words she had just heard.

"You'd never what?" The redhead questions, her eyes fixed on yours with a mix of emotions that you can't identify, but they are expectant and somewhat challenging, compelling you to speak.

"If I had the chance to share a life with a woman like you, I would never make you suffer." You answered, which was true. "I would make it a point to do everything in my power and out of it to make you happy. To deserve to be by your side. To-"

So, you would never have expected any of your speeches to be cut off by Wanda Maximoff's lips meeting yours, but oh well, the world is a little box of surprises.

Her mouth is soft, and feeling her sigh as you matched the kiss made something spring up at the base of your stomach.

Moving your hands to her legs at that moment was instinctive, and maybe getting up and sitting on your lap was too, because the redhead does it with such ease that it seems to you that maybe she should've been there all along.

It's no surprise to say that the report was completely forgotten by both of you after that. And even after all your clothes were thrown on the floor, you didn't stop kissing.

And that's how whatever you had going on with your boss started. That was only the first time of many, but it never stopped being casual. It never stopped being a quick sex in her office. Or in the printer room when no one else was there, or in the bathroom, or... Anyway. It was casual, it was cool.

Well, at least that's what you wanted to believe. Even if your heart beat differently sometimes, even if you missed her or wanted to share with her moments that were certainly not casual.

But now was not the time for that, because you were back in the present, and you were face to face with a rather pissed off Wanda Maximoff, taking off her jacket and hanging it brutally on the coat rack in the corner of the room.

"What about the reports?" She asks, looking at the papers in your hand with a hardened countenance, and you place the pile on the commode before she blasts them with her gaze. "Nothing, I just needed an excuse to come over here."

"Good, I don't need any more problems today." The redhead grumbles, huffing heavily, and your eyebrows frown in concern, swallowing dryly as you take a step forward. "What happened?"

"Stark called me." Wanda replies, turning on her computer, and the realization comes. Anthony Stark is one of the partners in the redhead's company. However, much unlike her, the man was a complete disservice to Stark Industries, all of his concern being devoted to drinking and partying.

"Can you believe he's mad about the profit sharing? It's in the contract! That he signed!" The redhead continues to complain through clenched teeth, sighing heavily as she throws herself into her chair. "And now he's ruined my day."

"Well, the day just started, I'm sure we can do something to make it better." You comment gently, testing the waters and approaching the chair. You can almost see smoke coming out of the redhead's ears as she mumbles in disbelief.

"How about a massage?" You suggest, already placing yourself behind Wanda's chair and bringing your hands to her shoulders. As soon as you put your fingers to work, the redhead lets out a contented moan, relaxing her body and murmuring a thank you that makes you smile.

"I could cook you dinner later," You break the silence a little later, your heartbeats becoming more intense at the proposition of the two of you taking a step further, out of the confines of this office, "I don't know, maybe have a movie night after. To distract you."

"That's very sweet, honey, really." Wanda says as she stands up, the movement ceasing the rubbing, and you let your hands fall to the sides of your body as the redhead turns to you. Despite the small smile at the corner of her lips, irritation is still evident from her clenched jaw, and then you realize that maybe this isn't the best time for such suggestions.

"But what will really distract me is you fucking me hard, yeah?" You don't know how you didn't choke on your own breath at the unexpected words, but still the shock must have been evident on your face, because the redhead smiles amused at your reaction, interlacing her fingers behind your neck.

The woman does nothing, however, just looking at you expectantly, and only then do you realize that she is waiting for your consent. Instead of giving it verbally, you choose to pull her roughly around the waist, trapping her lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

Wanda sighs in satisfaction, moaning affected as her fingers grip your hair tightly. But she needs much more from you than this, so the redhead shoves you against the chair, the wheels pushing you away from her a few inches due to her strength.

"Take your pants off." The redhead commands, and you know better than to challenge Wanda Maximoff when she looks this angry. So, as the woman rummages through the last drawer of her desk, you get rid of your clothes at once, only your shirt protecting your body from the very well-cooled room by the AC.

But it's not like you're going to feel cold at that moment, because the redhead's gaze descends on your figure hungrily before she throws the dildo in your lap with a smirk. It's very hard not to watch her take off her pants and panties, but you better have this toy ready for use when she's done, so you hurry to do so.

As soon as Wanda, like you, is only in her button-down shirt, she straddles your lap, grabbing a handful of your hair and making you look at her. "Fuck me until I forget my own name."

This is certainly not a command you wouldn't want to follow, so you immediately line up the dildo at her entrance, and pull her around the waist with your free hand, burying the toy in her aching pussy.

To suppress a loud moan, the redhead leans forward, biting your neck hard as her whole body shudders with the delicious intrusion. It wasn't hard to assume that the bite would leave a lasting mark, but you could feel her juices dripping onto your lap, so that was obviously the last of your worries.

Although having her ride the fake cock was easily one of your favorite things, that position wasn't going to help much in accomplishing your goal of fucking her as hard as she would like.

So, wrapping your arms around her middle, you lift both of you out of the chair, pushing some papers away so you could have her sitting on the wood, the sound of the items falling to the floor contesting your ears along with the sound of the strap shoving in and out of her.

"I'm sure those papers were important." Wanda scolds in a teasing tone, her voice faltering in accordance with my movements, and a smirk travels to your lips. "You can keep me working a few extra hours after my shift to make up for it."

A smirk back is all the redhead was able to give you, as the next moment, you intensified your thrusts inside her, the dildo reaching that sweet spot inside her over and over again.

The sound of skin slapping fills the air as Wanda tries to hold back her moans. And you'd like to say that you've gotten used to the feeling of having her, but you haven't. The truth is that every time the redhead offers you a little bit of her, you catch yourself craving more.

"Take off your blouse." You command, knowing you wouldn't be able to do it and keep up the relentless rhythm you knew she wanted inside her. The woman, who had her head thrown back and her back arched, brings her face forward, her eyebrow raised.

"I'm the one who gives the orders around here." She recalls, holding you by the waist under your shirt and digging her nails into your skin, a silent scolding for your misbehavior.

"Please." You add, trying to maintain what little composure you have left, and failing miserably as she purrs in thought, sliding her fingers up your skin, smiling as she feels you shudder under her touch.

"Say that again." She demands, and only then do you realize that all the interaction has made you eventually slow down inside her, allowing her to take the upper hand. So instead of doing as she asked, you project my body forward, smirking as you watch her try and fail to suppress a moan.

At the same instant, one of her hands slipped out of your shirt, flying up to your hair and gripping it tightly. "Behave." Wanda warns through clenched teeth, and all you're left with is a dry swallow. She would always have the upper hand.

"Take off your blouse. Please." You obey.

"Fuck." The hand in your hair pulls you forward, bringing your mouth colliding with hers in a fervent kiss that is hard to keep up with as your head begins to spin. "I'll make you beg more often."

The teasing comment is almost comical, of course she would be able to make you do whatever she wanted you to do. But instead of laughing, your mouth salivates as the redhead moves her hands away from you to take them to her blouse, unbuttoning it all the way down.

As you wait, you return the intense thrusts inside Wanda, who needs to bite her lower lip in a poorly effective attempt to contain her moans, watching you fuck her with lustful eyes.

When the redhead's blouse finally falls to the table, your body begs you to touch every bit of newly exposed skin, so you project your body forward, kissing all the way down Wanda's torso as you leave your hands on her waist to maintain your movements.

As soon as your lips meet the redhead's nipple, you feel the whimper bubble up in her chest, her hand in your hair encouraging you to keep going, dividing your attention equally between her two breasts.

It doesn't take long for the soft skin to stiffen under your tongue's touch, and it takes only a little longer for Wanda's body to start spasming as her orgasm explodes throughout her entire body.

You wouldn't stop until she told you to, however, so you maintain your thrusts, guiding her through her high until she can't take it anymore. A few minutes later, her trembling hand rests on your abdomen, urging you to pull away.

You obey. However, as soon as the strap slides off her, your hands on her waist turn her around, leaving her on her back to you, her ass pressed against your lap. "Y/n-"

The confused cry is interrupted by the toy sliding back inside her, the redhead choking on her breath. The movements are slow this time, pushing gently through her overstimulation. It's your turn to hold her by the hair, pulling her close and listening to her whimper when her face is close enough.

"You wanted me to fuck you until you forgot your name, didn't you?" You recall in a false tone of innocence, peppering her shoulder with small kisses. "I'm just doing as I was told."

Wanda moans, closing her eyes to enjoy the delicious mixed sensation of pleasure and pain. Releasing her hair, you move the hand that was in her locks to the front of her body, your other remaining firmly on her waist.

The redhead chokes a second time when your fingers find her swollen clit, pressing gently. Instinctively, Wanda projects her body backwards, pressing her ass even harder against the strap-on and in a silent plea for more. And of course you would not object to giving her exactly what she wants.

You increase the pace of your thrusts slowly as you draw light circles against her clit, smiling as you watch her shudder under your touch. The redhead props her elbows on the table, overwhelmed by the sensation of the strap filling her throbbing pussy.

The knot between your own legs grows larger by the minute, but you try to maintain your coordination as best you can, intensifying the speed further and further.

It doesn't take long before Wanda's second orgasm takes over again, and the redhead needs to cover her mouth with her own hand to keep herself from screaming. The strap-on pressed against your intimacy and the scene before your eyes are more than enough for the heat at the pit of your stomach to explode, warming your entire body as you maintain your movements to guide the both of you through your highs.

When neither of you can take any more, you slide the toy off the redhead, hearing her whimper one last time before letting out a contented breath. With your hands on her waist, you spin her around again so that she looks at you, and the smile on her lips makes one of your own to grow.

"Thank you." Wanda says breathlessly, pulling you by the collar of your shirt to kiss you sloppily, her smile against your lips making your stomach flutter with butterflies.

As she hugs you, pulling you closer with muscles much more relaxed than they were earlier that morning, you wonder if someday whatever you have will ever leave the confines of this building. If someday she will accept your invitation to dinner, or to the movies, or to any other date you invite her to.

But for now, you repeat to yourself that this is enough. And, hugging her back, you allow yourself to relax as well.

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

And that's it for today! I hope you enjoyed it, thoughts and comments are always welcome ツ

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

purplemninja · 9 months

Text

A depressing revelation about Six's ending

2 months ago on the LN subreddit, I made a theory post where I say how Six may have had powers all along and didn't use them until the end, similar to Mono, and this wasn't the main focus of the post but in it I also mentioned a new way to interpret Six's ending and I compared it to a scene in Avatar: The last Airbender where Iroh teaches Zuko how to redirect lightning, the important thing being that lightning is a metaphor for abuse.

A person named Skrappo made a fandom wiki blog that goes into full detail on this new way to interpret the ending of LN1 (crediting me) and I will copy and paste it here for more people to see (I'll divide it between his blog and my comment with "---------" as a border, so to avoid people being confused between his info and mine)

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

Credit goes to PurpleMNinja for the original idea.

In an interview, Little Nightmares' "Senior Narrative Designer" Dave Mervik said that he believes that both Six and Mono got equally bleak and hopeless endings. This has confused many fans ever since LN2's release. How could Six's fate be just as bad as Mono's? Mono is trapped forever in an infinite times-loop of betrayal, torture, and depression; while Six has become extremely powerful and has escaped the Maw, taking out anyone who stood in her path. I think I have realised why he believes this.

Let's take a look at Mono's story. He is a small child who has a bag over his head to hide from the world, to try to forget that it hates him. Throughout LN2, he continues to lie to himself, pretending that the world doesn't hate him, he is constantly hiding. But when Six is taken and he is confronted by Thin Man, he has had enough. He accepts that the world he lives in hates him and accepts who he truly is, using his newfound powers to defeat Thin Man and take control of the Pale City. I think we can all agree that this is his most badass moment. But it all amounts to nothing, as he is betrayed and left to sit and rot for the rest of his life in that little room. Until he is stripped of his humanity and turned into the Signal Tower's slave.

Now let's look at Six's story. Like Mono, she is a small child who is in a world that hates her and wants her dead. Unlike Mono however, she doesn't try to pretend that it doesn't. Instead she chooses to be a survivor. Her greatest fear is death, and she will do anything to avoid it (and really, can you blame a 9-year old child for wanting to live?). However, despite living in a world that is kill or be killed, Six still tries to cling on to her childish innocence, she tries not to give in to darkness. Throughout the series, we see her doing many good things; trying to save Raincoat Girl, befriending Mono, hugging the Nomes, etc. But every time she tries to show kindness it backfires. She fails to save Raincoat Girl, she is betrayed by Mono (from her perspective), and she is forced to choose between committing cannibalism by eating a sausage or eating a little Nome like all the other ones she had befriended previously. She ultimately decided that eating the Nome was a better alternative to cannibalism (not realising that the Nome was another child). However the eating of the Nome pushed Six close to her breaking point. She has tried so hard to remain pure, to stay innocent, but every time she is given nothing but heartbreak and guilt in return. I believe that Dark Six is a representation of her inner darkness, her shadow, the animalistic sinful part of her that will do as many immoral actions as it needs (and maybe more for fun) to survive. When Six has her final hunger bout, she realises that truth. She realises that if she wants to live, she has to give in to her shadow, she has no other choice. She eats the Lady, and gives up the last bit of innocence she had left. And now, with the Lady's power, she can finally take revenge and fight back against the horrible monsters that had been treating her like an animal. She walks down the dining halls, massacres the Guests along the way, she is finally able to fight back against the world, to rise above the world. She walks up into the sunlight, finally out of the Maw... and she is met with an endless ocean. We hear a boat horn in the distance, but it is likely nothing more than the Guests' ship leaving. She has spent her whole life being ruthlessly attacked by the world around her, and now that she has finally gained the ability to fight back, it holds back... it leaves her alone. After going through living hell, being forced to do things she didn't want to, and giving up her innocence, she is met with a dead end. It has all been for nothing. She is still stranded, and all she can do is stand there, and look out into the sea, knowing that there is no way for her to escape...

This is why I think that Dave Mervik believes both endings to be equally bleak. Both characters go through so much trauma, leading up to them finally breaking and rising above the world that hates them, becoming able to fight back, and then they are both met with a dead end. In reality, Raincoat Girl and Runaway Kid had it the best. They both died and were able to escape the nightmare, but Six and Mono are forever trapped, alone and hopeless...

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

TL;DR - I compare Six's ending to Zuko being taught how to redirect lightning because both characters have been most notoriously abused by the worlds they live in, and after much struggle they eventually are able to fight back, but their worlds leave them there with nothing to fight (Six gets a few guests, but that's it). Making them suffer so much and not grant them any sort of payoff when they're finally able to dish it back out. (I know how the rest of ATLA goes)

I slightly imagine the world wanted Six to either die, or suffer so much but be left stranded when she's able to fight back so that her struggles, sacrifices and losses don't end up with some sort of payoff or reward, making her go through so much to avoid death just to be met with a dead end when she manages to plow through it all. Either way, the cruel world wins.

If that's not a massive middle finger, I don't know what is.

And this new realisation on the ending of LN1 only adds to the tragedy of Six's story, which I've gone into full detail here.

And since I've probably made you very sad, here's some music I think is best when thinking about this interpretation of Six's ending:

youtube

61 notes · View notes

kinghairington · 2 years

Text

Hold My Heart [S.H.]

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!Henderson!Reader Word Count: 1.9k Summary: Steve’s relationship with his father had gotten worse as he became an adult, but he had a family across town who always welcomed him with open arms, including the little brother he never had and, you, his girlfriend. Warnings/Notes: Relatively SFW. Steve’s father. Emotional abuse. Sad Steve. Crying. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Mention of Steve’s desire for lots of kids 👀 but nothing is explicitly discussed. There are no mentions of reader's physical features. No spoilers. Requested. Masterlist.

The fight with his father started like all the rest: over something that would have been a simple conversation in any other home.

“When was the last time you had your tires rotated?” His father asked over one particularly tense and quiet family dinner.

It was his mother’s attempt at making them look like a happy family even when no one was around. He tried to show up more for his mother’s comfort than his own but hoped with each dinner that the happiness would finally stick.

It had yet to work.

The question took him by surprise, so he shrugged, but shrugging was one of his father’s least favorite gestures and was considered banned in the Harrington household.

There was no need for him to get them rotated in the first place. He wasn’t traveling. He used the car to tote some kids around town and worked a few miles from home. Sometimes he would take you out of town on a date or drive you to the community college for a class. It would be months before he even needed to think about getting it done.

But logic didn’t work on his father, least of all Steve’s personal logic.

So he’d ended up sitting there in the formal dining room as his father berated him over being “disrespectful,” “irresponsible,” “immature,” and “unable to take responsibility for the car I gave you as a gift and I expect respect when I’m speaking to you” anytime he opened his mouth to respond.

His father didn’t care to ever hear what he had to say about anything in his life, and the constant threat that he could easily take the car or his trust fund away was always held over his head.

A part of him always wondered if the words were empty threats or if he would wake up one day without the BMW sitting in the driveway.

He hadn’t had access to a credit card in two years.

His father had dropped him from the family insurance months ago.

The only things left were the car, the trust fund with his name on it, and the roof over his head.

Another part of him wanted to test it, see if his father really would officially take everything away from him (away from them), but mostly he was just tired of having to deal with the fear in the first place.

The easiest thing to do would be to sit still and quiet, leave the room when dismissed, and go about his day as his father locked himself in his study or left for work depending on the time of day he decided to blow up at him. But at some point in the last year and a half of practically being part of the Henderson family, Steve came to accept more of his worth than ever before.

He didn’t have to deal with any of this.

He was an adult now.

He could leave whenever he wanted.

He could stop depending on his father’s money and the knowledge that he had less than a year left before his trust fund would legally be all his. That had kept him gritting his teeth and bearing it just about long enough.

But he was beyond tired of waiting for that day and he hated the part of himself that thought he was due it in the first place.

Tonight, he just couldn’t deal with it any longer. Not when he knew that a family across town was also sitting down for a family dinner and always happily had a place saved for him.

Steve met his mother’s eyes in some sort of apology as he stood from his chair. His father was still ranting from his spot at the head of the table, but Steve made no effort to look at the man.

His father yelled for him to come back, although he didn’t move to chase after him, giving him time to grab his keys and shoes where they were in the entryway. He was only in his sock feet as he made his way to the car and hopped in, throwing the tennis shoes onto the passenger’s seat.

The tension left him as he drove into the Henderson’s driveway, his shoulders drooping from where they’d been held stiff.

Rolling his shoulders back, he let out a slow breath and reached up to his face to rub at his hot cheeks. At some point along the way, a few tears had made their way to the surface.

He felt like he was running away.

He supposed he was in a way.

And he couldn’t imagine a better place to end up.

It felt strange to walk from his car to the front door without his shoes on - he decided not to grab them because he just wanted to be inside where he could wrap his arms around you and enjoy an actual warm, happy family dinner.

He had a tendency to show up here after his mother’s family dinners in search of some silent comfort and the semblance of a real family, but never did he show up like this: shoeless.

There was some shouting from inside the house after the doorbell rang and Steve heard Dustin’s voice the loudest.

“Maybe it’s Steve or Mike or Lucas!”

When Dustin swung open the door, he grinned at seeing his friend before he took in Steve’s appearance. From his eyes to his feet, it had to be a big surprise to see him less than put together and clearly upset by something.

“Hey, man. Come in. What’s going on?” Dustin looked at him in concern before closing the door behind them and calling out your name.

He didn’t realize just how much he needed to see you until you turned the corner from the kitchen and stopped short.

“Steve?” Your voice was immediately so soft, so sweet, so caring. He had heard you talk to Dustin and Max that way before, Steve less so, but he was craving that sort of affection right now.

(You’d make a great mother one day.)

Dustin stayed close to Steve but allowed you some room to join them in the entryway, your hands reaching up slowly to his cheeks.

“Hey, you okay?”

He nodded and leaned into your touch, his own hands going to meet your hips as he stepped closer into your space. It always amazed him that you could calm him in moments. He’d told you a few times that you possessed some sort of magic in your touch and your entire being.

“I’m just here for dinner,” he tried to joke, but the words came out in a teary whisper that shocked all three of you.

“Dusty, will you finish setting the table for me and set a place for Steve?” You focused on your younger brother for a second, smiling thankfully at the boy before you led Steve to the front bathroom.

Once the door was closed behind the two of you, you gestured for your boyfriend to sit on the edge of the bathtub. You peeked at him for a second before grabbing a clean wash cloth and getting it wet in the sink.

This was the first time you saw Steve cry.

They weren’t fat, rolling tears or even a steady stream of them, but even the few that slid down his cheeks were enough to cause a heaviness to settle in your chest. Steve was always so strong. He was emotional at times, but those emotions tended to land in the angry or jealous categories more than sad.

Stepping over to him, you knelt down between his knees and held the washcloth up so he could see your intention of wiping his face.

Steve nodded and sniffed softly.

It felt a little motherly to be doing this to him when the last time you had taken care of anyone this way was your younger brother after a particularly bad case of bullying in middle school, but the way Steve closed his eyes in relief and comfort made the slight feeling of awkwardness worth it.

You gently wiped one cheek and then the other.

For all his bravado, Steve was relatively easy to read, so you knew what must have happened. There was only one reason you knew for him to be this upset and it had to be his father.

You placed the wash cloth on the porcelain and moved to sit on the floor. You were still sitting between his legs and leaned your cheek against one of his knees so you could look up at him.

“What’d he say this time?” You asked quietly.

Steve sighed heavily, confirming your suspicion.

“Just the usual, really, that I’m not responsible, but I didn’t want to deal with it tonight.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. Proud of you for coming here instead.”

You wrapped an arm around his leg and squeezed him. His reaction was physical instead of verbal, but feeling his muscle relax more was enough. You wanted him to settle even more.

“He’ll never know how many responsibilities you really have, you know? He’ll never know that you’ve saved this town so many times.”

You met his eyes and smiled softly when he held your gaze.

“I think you’re the best, Stevie. So does Dusty.”

“You have to say that.”

Quirking an eyebrow, you moved to sit on your knees so you could get closer to his face.

“That’s because I love you, silly. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t really think that.”

His walls were cracking a little bit more, his lip quirking into a tiny smile. You took his face into your hands, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to one of his cheeks. His skin was slightly wet from where you had wiped his face, and he trembled a bit as your lips pressed there.

“All I want is for you to truly believe all of what we say one day, what I tell you, and I’ll never lie to you about how I feel. Everything I say is one hundred percent true.”

He gently grasped your wrists.

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“You can stay as long as you want. I think even mom would be okay with it.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “Sometimes I think she loves you more than me.”

Steve let out a breathy laugh at that and your entire chest lit up in glee at the sound.

“You’d be a good mom,” he whispered.

“Don’t get started on that right now,” you warned, tone playful but firm as you had more important things to think about than Steve’s, ahem, personal desires. But it was a successful distraction for him.

“Why not?” He asked as he pulled your hands, signaling for you to get up off the floor and sit with him. You slid next to him on the side of the bathtub and let him wrap an arm around your shoulders. “I’m just telling you how I feel.”

“You think you’re slick, but I know what you really want.”

You poked him in the side and giggled lightly when he jerked with a heartier laugh.

“Come on. Let’s go have dinner and I’ll let mom fuss over you when I ask if you can stay the night.”

“A few nights,” he corrected as the two of you stood up, wrapping you up in his arms for a tight hug. It was full of warmth and gratitude as he held you, whispering a couple words against your temple. “Thank you.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things fic #writing tag

762 notes · View notes