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confused-pyramid · 2 years

Text

While I breathe, I hope

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Aaron doesn't let people in, but when you burrow your way into his life, he finds that even the worst moments don't hurt as much...

word count: 10.1k (omg)

warnings: SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, slow burn, age gap, canon!typical violence, mentions of death, drinking, angst, so much yearning, hotch is a dilf

a/n: this covers events from the beginning of season five through the end of season seven, and includes mentions to specific episodes and cases

You can't go inside. The whole team is in Hotch's hospital room, looking at his motionless body, and your feet just won't move.

It would be one thing if he was awake and talking, but the idea of seeing him just lying there, hooked up to countless tubes and a heart monitor, makes you want to throw up.

You weren't the one who went to his empty apartment. You didn't see the bloodstained carpet or the bullet hole in his drywall. If you had, you definitely wouldn't be as outwardly calm as the team thinks you are right now.

When you got the call from Emily that his things were still in his apartment, his car still outside, you thought the worst. You’re ashamed that your mind went there immediately, but it's almost like your brain was trying to prepare you, just in case.

Your back is pressed against the wall next to his room when Derek finally emerges, an impassive expression on his face.

"How is he?" you ask, your voice reverberating around your skull like an echo chamber. "Will he be okay?"

Derek looks at you for a long moment, and you can tell he's profiling you, but you don't have the energy to gripe at him today. "Yeah, he'll be okay. We briefed him on the situation. You should go in. He's awake."

He's awake. That means he's okay.

The rest of the team files out a moment later, and JJ squeezes your arm as you finally take a step into the linoleum room.

He looks better than you would have expected, considering he's been stabbed nine times.

Fuck, was it really that many?

"Hi," you croak, your voice breaking embarrassingly as you flash him a tight smile. "You look terrible."

Hotch lets out a small laugh before wincing slightly. "You wouldn't look any better after being stabbed a dozen times."

"Look who's exaggerating now. I heard it was only nine."

Only nine. You can hardly get the word out.

"You missed Haley and Jack," he says simply, but you can tell what he's really trying to say.

Where were you when I woke up?

You swallow, knowing that the truth might be more than you can bear to disclose...because he's your boss. "I had to wrap up some things with a case."

Hotch nods slowly, but he doesn't press you further. You both know you're lying, but this isn't the time for torrid confessions. His face returns to its resting stoic expression and for a moment, he looks just like he did when you saw him for the first time.

"This lecture was supposed to start 20 minutes ago," you complain, checking your watch again. "You'll forgive me if I find it hard to believe that an agent on the Behavioral Analysis Unit has better things to do than guest lecture at Quantico."

Your friend rolls her eyes before turning to you, an exasperated expression on her face. "I actually heard they're being called onto some pretty big cases these days. Did you hear about that train that got taken hostage last month? That was theirs."

You scoff, already too haughty for your own good. Getting the highest test scores in your class has filled your head with hot air. "I'll believe it when I see it."

When Aaron Hotchner eventually walked up to the podium in front of the large lecture hall, everyone was either on their phone or talking to their peers.

He taps the microphone once and leans forward, his tall stature making him tower over the stand. "Good afternoon."

Whether it was the timbre of his voice or his self-assured nature, you couldn't be sure. But within a few moments, the entire auditorium was silent.

He starts speaking again, and his voice is the only sound filling the room. "Today I'll be discussing some the recent cases my unit has worked on, and how profiling helped us solve all of them..."

Your first thought as he begins his lecture is, 'He's handsome.' The next is a bit more professional: 'I want to have that kind of effect on a room.'

You graduate from the Academy a month later, and within the week, your application to be assigned to the BAU is on his desk.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask, suddenly eager to get out of this sterile, fluorescent-lit room. "Coffee? Jello? Tequila?"

He laughs again, but this time he manages to move less, so as not to shift his bandages. "Just water would be great."

You nod and dip your head down before leaving the room, the tension leaving your shoulders when you walk into the hall.

"He seems good," you tell the team when you find them around the corner by the nurse's station. "Really good."

"Yeah, kid," Rossi smiles, patting your shoulder. "He's a tough one."

You fill a paper cup with water from the fountain and are about to take it back to Hotch, when Emily catches your arm, taking the cup from you.

"I got it," she assures you, before shooting a nearly imperceptible glance at JJ that you wouldn't have noticed before joining the unit.

Rossi, Morgan, and Reid start walking back to the waiting area, and you move to follow them, but JJ catches your arm, holding you back firmly.

She cocks her head to the side, her eyes serious, but not unkind. "Come with me."

"Look," you say as JJ leads you to the opposite side of the waiting room. "I know I'm the youngest, but I really don't need a babysitter."

She shakes her head, motioning for you to sit down next to her. You sigh, sinking down onto the vinyl covered cushion, even though every muscle in your body wants to avoid what is coming.

"We all know you and Hotch are close," she says softly, her tone diplomatic. "We just want you to know that you're not alone, and that we're all here for you."

Close. You're not sure if that’s an overstatement or an understatement. He has definitely opened up to you a lot more since you joined the team, but you don't know if you can classify your relationship as anything more than professional.

A small voice in the back of your mind scoffs. You can't even convince yourself.

***

Aaron can't help but feel slightly disappointed when Emily enters his room with his water, instead of you.

"Surprised to see me?" she asks conspiratorially, and he isn't sure what he's supposed to be hiding.

"No," he frowns, trying in vain to sit up a bit straighter, "I thought- well, never mind now. Thank you for bringing the water."

"We're all really glad you're okay," she tells him, leaving a soft pat on his covers. "We'll find this son of a bitch before he can hurt anyone else."

He appreciates her sentiment, but the fear he feels for Haley and Jack - his family - still burrows deep in his bones.

Emily doesn't stay long, and soon the familiar silence envelopes him once again. Ever since Haley left him, his apartment hasn't felt like home. Not really.

He started staying at work later and later, coming home only to shower and get a few hours of sleep. It certainly wasn't healthy, but after getting stabbed in the place he was supposed to feel the safest, it is all he can do to keep going.

The silences had felt safe at first, but then you started coming over, dropping by randomly when you knew he would be home, and he finally began to understand what being safe was really supposed to feel like.

You are so young, barely 27, but you are one of the best agents he has hired straight from Quantico. When your application arrived on his desk, after a thorough review from Strauss and the director, he had been certain that you wouldn't be a good fit for the BAU. But then he met you.

"You were the top of your class," he observes, his eyes trained on your file that he has laid open on his desk.

He hasn't looked up since you sat down, but he has clocked everything about you. The way your hair is pulled back from your face, as if to present yourself fully and openly. The firm set of your shoulders as you sit forward in the chair. Even the small, loose thread on your blazer that you must have missed when you were likely inspecting your clothes that morning.

You nod, clearly proud of your academic accomplishments. Aaron is the last person who would fault someone for taking pride in their achievements, but he also can't shake the feeling that you may just be another one of the 'rich girls' he knew in law school. The trust fund kids and Senators' daughters who knew just how smart they were...and knew exactly how to use it to their advantage.

"Your academic record is quite impressive, and you scored well in physical fitness," he continues, quickly realizing that he doesn't exactly have any concrete grounds on which to reject you.

"Thank you," you smile, your hands folded in your lap. "I would love to work in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. One of my favorite classes at the Academy was in behavioral science, and I know how important the work you all do here is. I also got a chance to talk to some of the team before this interview, since I got here a bit early..." You let out a small laugh, and he can tell that it's mostly for your benefit, to lighten the tension. "...and everyone seems really nice. Agent Morgan is clearly a natural leader, especially with how he carries himself in front of the team, and Doctor Reid gave me some statistics about the rate of Academy grads who get into various fields across the agency."

You trail off as your rambling winds to a close, and suddenly Aaron isn't sure what to make of you anymore.

"Doctor Reid is a genius," Hotch agrees, before cracking the faintest smile, "but he can take some getting used to."

You shake your head, possibly misinterpreting his comment, but trying to clear the air nonetheless. "Not at all! It was incredible speaking to him. I think I learned more just this morning than I have since I graduated."

A slight flush colors the top of your chest as you gush about your experiences and Aaron finds that your curiosity and keen senses (and warmth) are the exact characteristics that will serve you well here. He is pleased that you got along with the team, and that's when he realizes there is no point in trying to find a reason to reject you.

You're already in.

***

It still hurts when he breathes in too quickly, but after three weeks of recovering in his empty apartment, Aaron is ready to return to work.

You've been keeping him up to date with the cases that the team has been working on, but it's not the same as being in the thick of it. After years of constant motion and always being on his toes, this last month of medical leave has made him feel like he's decomposing.

He only gets up to eat, shower, or, you know, and he misses being around people every day. He misses being around you.

As if his thoughts conjured you into being, a knock sounds at his door, and he gets up with a grunt when he hears your voice announcing your presence.

It takes him ages to get to the door, but once he gets it open, he sees you standing in front of him with a plastic bag in one hand and a bottle in the other. He's surprised to see you, but he's also very very pleased.

"I brought takeout," you smile, your eyes glinting in the dim light of the hallway, "and sparkling cider."

His eyebrows raise at the latter, and you roll your eyes dramatically, following him inside. "Considering all the medications you're probably hopped up on right now, I made the tactical choice not to bring alcohol over here."

He chuckles, watching as you remove containers of steaming Thai food from the bag. "A sound decision."

"How are you feeling?" you ask once you're both settled on the couch, a plate of uneaten noodles resting on your lap. "Do you think you'll be ready to come back soon?"

"It's not up to me," he sighs, his eyes following the movement of your fork across your plate. Why aren't you eating?

"Well, you can tell those doctors at St. Sebastian's that I said you look great."

His heart rate jumps before the meaning of your words sinks in. But the warm shade of mauve that flushes across your chest says otherwise.

"I just mean that you look fine," you correct, clearing your throat. "Healthy."

He nods, not wanting to embarrass you, but a fire courses through his veins as he watches the telltale signs of attraction wash over you. Darkening of the eyes, flushing of the skin, eye contact.

Aaron would be lying if he said that he never noticed the way your eyes lingered on him across the conference room. He had chalked it up to a schoolgirl crush, but could a temporary infatuation really explain the relationship that had developed between the two of you?

You were the first person he looked for when he walked into work in the mornings, the first opinion he sought out when testing a new theory. How much longer could he pretend that what he felt for you was strictly professional?

"How are Haley and Jack doing?" you ask, jerking him from his thoughts.

"About as well as you can imagine," he says sincerely, his expression falling as he thinks about how long it has been since he has seen his son. "It's tough being under constant watch."

Ever since Foyet practically called them out by name, they've been assigned a protection detail and kept away from anything to do with the case...which includes him.

"We'll find him, Aaron," you whisper, your eyes glowing with genuine earnestness. "We have to."

He nods, and only then do you finally take a bite of your food.

"I'm sorry, I just don't like red wine," you laugh, taking a sip from your chilled glass of white. "I'd much rather just have a beer."

Rossi scoffs, his "Kiss the Cook" apron lending him very little authority. "That's because you've never had real, good wine. Your $7 grocery store wines don't count either, kid."

Leaning your forearms on the island counter in the center of Rossi's kitchen, you shoot Hotch a look that says 'help me out here', but he just shakes his head, smiling at you from over the rim of his glass.

"Okay," Emily nods, taking a seat next to you. "I'll bite. Let's see this fancy red wine you've been raving about."

"Not yet," Rossi says, waving his hand at you both as he carefully stirs marinara sauce into his handmade pappardelle. "Red wine cannot be truly enjoyed unless it is taken with authentic Italiano."

It takes everything in you not to snort, but you bite your tongue and take another sip of your white wine.

"I hope you're prepared to finish what you started here," a deep voice rumbles from behind you.

Hotch comes up next to you, his hip resting against the counter as he turns to face you. "David won't give up until he gets you to concede."

"I can handle myself," you smirk, your eyes glinting with amusement. "Besides, when have you ever known me to turn away from a challenge."

He's about to say something witty, but then the edge of your lips curves up and you wink at him, and suddenly every thought he has ever had has mysteriously disappeared.

You can't stop laughing, even though it really isn't that funny. "Kevin asked you for advice on how to ask Penelope out on a date?"

Aaron nods, his lips twitching as he tries not to laugh. "He was very earnest, but I didn't think his prospective relationship with our tech analyst was more pertinent than finding a missing girl."

"He asked you in the middle of a case?!" you squeak, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you shake with laughter.

He lets himself go a bit and a bright grin spreads across his face. Your laugh is like music and he finds that his wounds don't hurt as much anymore.

The drinks don't have any alcohol in them, but he still feels lighter than he has in months, and he feels himself wishing that you could be here with him all the time.

"Yup," he confirms, shaking his head. "Reid was with me as well, and I thought his jaw would fall off with how far open his mouth was."

"Oh my goodness," you gasp, trying to control the giggles bubbling up inside of you. "Speaking of Reid...he really needs a haircut."

This finally breaks him and Hotch lets out a loud hoot of laughter. You almost forget to worry about whether his scar tissue is hurting him, because he looks so happy for the first time in what feels like forever.

Your heart warms in your chest and as you lean back on his new couch, you realize that you would come over to his place with takeout and cider every night until the end of time if it meant he would keep smiling at you like that.

***

Your ears are still ringing even in the eerie silence. Three gunshots and a choked sob and then nothing.

Your SUV feels like it's barely moving, even though the speedometer is hovering around 90, but somehow when you skid to a stop in front of the Hotchner family home, there's only one other SUV parked out front.

You throw yourself out of the car, running as fast as you can into the house, your gun at the ready in front of you. It takes a long time - too long - to make it up the stairs, but the moment you hear the forlorn mix of thuds and sobs, you're running again.

Please let him be okay. Please let them all be okay.

You burst into the room as Hotch pounds into Foyet, his bloody face practically unrecognizable as he gets shredded to a pulp.

"Aaron," you gasp, sinking to your knees and throwing your arms around him from behind. "He's dead. You have to stop."

It takes a few more moments, but eventually his hands stop throwing punches. His knuckles are covered in blood and his hands shake violently as he leans into you, his body wracked with gut-wrenching sobs.

Tears prick your eyes as you hold him tightly, working off the futile hope that if you squeeze hard enough, all of the pain and horror will go away.

Loud footsteps reverberate around the house and you relax when you hear Emily and Derek's voices behind you. They fall silent when they see the two of you, but you're unable to focus on anything other than keeping the man in front of you in one piece for as long as possible.

"Wait," you mutter suddenly, the team's arrival bringing you back to reality. "Jack?"

Aaron's body stiffens against yours and he practically springs off the ground, pushing through all the officers and agents that have entered the house since you arrived. You race after him, following as he runs into his home office and opens a small compartment under his window seat.

When Jack's small face peers back at you, the entire house lets out a sigh of relief.

"Hey, buddy," Aaron whispers, pulling Jack into a lumbering hug.

Jack looks at all of us over his shoulder, his eyes full of a youthful innocence that tugs at your heartstrings. "I worked the case, Dad, just like you said."

"Yes," Hotch nods, the tension in his body slowly seeping away, "you did a great job, buddy."

***

The funeral is somber and beautiful, even before the snow starts falling. JJ and Will nod at you from across the lawn as you make your way along the sidewalk, a few steps behind Derek, Emily, Reid, and Rossi.

You feel a light pat on your hand and you look down to see Jack looking back at you. You press your lips into a thin smile and take his hand, trying to warm up his chilly fingers with your glove.

"Let's find your Aunt Jess," you tell him as you wade between the crowd, all dressed in black.

When Jack is safely tucked under his aunt's arms, you trudge back over to where the team is all standing together. Rossi holds his arm out and you latch onto him with a grateful nod.

"Will this ever end?" you whisper, unable to keep the pain festering inside of you for a moment longer. "The pain can't go on forever, can it?"

He brings his other hand up and lays it on top of yours, holding you to him for a small, comforting moment.

"It will feel like forever," he sighs, his usually reassuring voice suddenly low and anguished, "but it won't be...and that's the important thing."

Haley's casket is carried up the snow-blanketed hill and when the proceedings begin, you watch as Aaron clasps his hands together, his head permanently dipped down.

You can feel his sadness from here, and you would give anything to be able to take it away, but this isn't the time. This is the time for remembrance and appreciation of the life Haley lived. The loyal friend, the loving wife, the devoted mother.

Jessica squeezes your hand as she passes by you, and when she makes her way up to the front, Aaron begins his eulogy.

"Haley was my best friend since we were in high school..."

***

Even when it seems like nothing will ever be the same, things eventually manage to return to normal. Jessica has been helping out with Jack when Hotch is at work, but you can see the strain being a single father is putting on him.

When the team is called to a small fishing town in rural Alaska, you can feel the stress emanating off of him from being so far from Jack for so long, but he doesn't let it get in the way of the work. He never does.

"I've got four of the upstairs rooms available," Rhodes, the police chief, explains when you all arrive at the singular lodge in town.

Uh, four?

"Uh, four?" Derek asks, echoing your thoughts.

Rhodes sighs, clearly starting to regret calling us at all. "Your team is double the size of my department."

When we don't say anything, he shakes his head and bids us goodbye. "I'll see you in the morning."

When he leaves, Hotch turns to us. "Looks like we'll have to double up."

"I'm not sleeping with Reid," Derek points, shaking his head.

You stifle a laugh when Garcia immediately latches onto Derek, piping up with a "Dibs!"

By the time night falls, you end up bunking with Garcia, which works just fine for you, except for the fact that you can't sleep.

Penelope has been out like a light since everyone called it a night an hour ago, but you've been staring at the ceiling, unable to catch a wink.

A half hour later, you finally give up, grabbing your files and shutting the door quietly behind you. You tiptoe down the stairs, hoping that the small seating area in the lobby will be empty, but when it comes into view, you spot someone sitting in front of the crackling fireplace.

"I want to dance!" JJ announces, clapping her hands together as she bounces on her toes. "I love this song."

"You go right on ahead, darlin'," Will says, pressing a kiss to her temple.

JJ shoots him a knowing look that feels so familiar it makes your chest hurt. You would give anything to have that sweet domesticity with someone you loved.

"If you won't join me, then my girls will," she fires back, reaching out to grab at your hands.

Emily and Penelope start to shake their heads, but JJ looks so excited that you can't help but mirror her enthusiasm.

"Okay," you nod, taking her hand. "I'm in."

She grins back at you and shoots Will and the guys a proud look, before pulling you into the crowd with her. It's clear that she's had a couple more drinks than she should have, but as long as she's having fun, who were you to stop her?

With the bustling throng of bodies filling the bar, you can hardly believe that Rossi's favorite joint is about to close for good.

The bar is pumping a bright Abba song through the rickety speakers and you sway your hips to the melodic beat as JJ gyrates in front of you. Your eyes fall closed as you lift your hands above your head, trying to find the rhythm over the loud buzz of conversation around you.

Your eyes snap open when JJ squeals again, signaling the arrival of Derek and Penelope to the dance floor, and you grin at them as he holds her hands and twirls her around deftly.

You turn around, scanning the crowd for a familiar face - well, one in particular - when you land on Rossi, who smiles at you. You grin brightly, waving at him, but he heads to the bar to get another drink, shrewdly managing to avoid your call for him to come join you all.

Your line of sight wanders again, this time landing on the person you were looking for. Aaron doesn't smile back immediately, his gaze slightly hazy, but then he lifts his glass in a pseudo-salute, his eyes never leaving yours.

You know this isn't his usual scene, so you don't try to get him to join you on the dance floor, but when he reaches up to unbutton his collar, you feel a breathlessness you haven't experienced since your first kiss.

The rest of the bar fades away and the loud voices around you quiet to a murmur. Hands grab at your shoulders, but your body feels far away as your eyes stay locked on his, diving deeper and deeper, trying to see every inch of him.

You love him, you know you do. You can try to ignore it for as long as you want, but that won't change the truth.

You're in love with him.

You snap back to reality when Penelope yells your name, and you shake your head, trying to clear the feelings that are rising inside of you.

Your brain feels warm and fuzzy as you return to your friends, and you're not sure if you can blame it on the alcohol anymore.

"Couldn't sleep?" you ask rhetorically as you take a seat on the well worn couch, next to Hotch. He's still in his clothes from earlier, but his sleeves are pushed back and his tie is hanging loosely around his neck.

He looks hauntingly beautiful with the firelight gleaming against his skin. You want to lean in and press your lips against his —

He shakes his head. "You too?"

You don't respond, instead reaching forward to lay your case file on the wooden coffee table.

"There's something off about this place," you eventually say, trying to describe what you've been feeling since you arrived. "I feel like something bad is going to happen."

He nods, setting down the files he was working on. "I think I understand what you mean. The kills have been so horrific, I'm shocked that the town hasn't already imploded just from trying to find the killer on their own."

"That's not- I don't mean..." you struggle to find the right words. "I'm scared for the team. I feel like we're all so strung out that one bad case, one bad outcome, could break us."

You don't know where this is coming from, and you can tell he doesn't know what to make of it either, but you're glad it's out there. Anything is better than the pit you feel in your stomach every time he - any of them - gets too close to a place they can never come back from.

Before he can react, you lean your cheek on his shoulder, a sigh of relief leaving your body as his fire-warmed skin burns into you through the thin fabric of his button-down.

This is the closest he has ever been to you, and the warmth of your smooth skin against his makes his breath catch in his throat.

He whispers your name and it comes out more like a gasp than a warning.

"Please," you breathe, turning your face so that you are looking at the fire. "Please, just...can we just sit here for a moment."

He knows what this will mean for your relationship going forward, knows that nothing can be the same if he lets this continue, but he can't bring himself to move.

The words flash in his mind before he can shut them off, and he closes his eyes, savoring them for as long as he can before reality is sure to set in.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Eventually, the fire will die out and the morning light will filter through the windows, and the world will come rushing back. But for now, it's just you two. So instead of doing what he would've done not six months ago...instead of standing up and telling you to go to bed, he stays still. Instead of stopping this at the root, before it can blossom into something he can't control, he sits there, with you at his side, for more than just a moment.

***

When Aaron pulls you aside in the hospital to explain the plan to fake Emily's death, you can barely breathe.

"You mentioned in your department file that you have contacts in Paris," Hotch is saying as you struggle to quiet the buzzing noise in your skull, "and we need them to help her lay low for a while as we figure out the Ian Doyle situation."

You remember nodding and giving him the information he needs, but everything else that happens that night is a blur. You can't remember who broke the news that Emily was gone, or where you went when you couldn't stand to be in that hospital anymore, or even how you got home.

All you know is that it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to tell the team the truth. Their gaunt faces stare back at you every morning for weeks, and somehow, at the same time, you have all the power in the world to help them, but also none at all.

You swear you can hear the crack of your heart when Spencer comes to your apartment every other night, tears spilling onto his cheeks, and at first, Aaron is the only person you can be yourself around.

But then he leaves too, and that's when the ground truly starts to cave in around you.

***

"Hey," you say softly, pressing the satellite phone to your ear. "How are you?"

Derek had handed you the phone after debriefing Hotch on the Doyle investigation, and now he was downstairs with rest of the team.

"It's getting harder to find leads over here, but we're still working," Aaron tells you, a quiet static coloring his voice. "How are...how is Jack?"

You press your lips together, trying to hold in the anger that has been bubbling up inside of you for months. "He's really good. Jessica is great with him."

Since Aaron left for his assignment in Pakistan, you have been spending more and more time with Jack. He's a sweet kid, and since you can't be there for any of your work family, the absolute least you can do is be there for a boy who doesn't have his mother or his father right now.

"Will you be home soon?" Your voice sounds different to your own ears. Tinny. Distant.

"I don't know," he says truthfully, his voice giving away nothing.

There's a pause on his end of the line and when he starts speaking again, his voice is clearer than before. "I know how hard all of this has been on you...I'm sorry."

Anger flares in your veins and you bite your lip as you hear quiet laughter filter up from the bullpen. "Hard? Yeah, it's been really damn hard to come in to work every day and lie to the people I care about most in this world."

You can hear the slight catch in his breath, but it only spurs you on. "I'm sure it's much easier to hide from the team when you're all the way across the freaking world."

He says your name, his tone not so much warning as it is fervent. Your finger moves to the 'off' button and you don't wait for his response before you mutter a quick "I have to go" and press down.

When you go back to your quiet apartment that night, the solitude feels almost overwhelming. You set your bag on your coffee table and pull your shoes off on the way to the master bathroom, where you strip off your clothes in one go.

Your shower is set so hot that steam fills the bathroom within minutes of you stepping inside. The scalding water burns away the pain and loneliness of the day, and for a few moments, you can just stand there and not think.

When you close your eyes, you can almost imagine that he's still here. That the searing rivulets that glide down your body are his fingers and that the hands that are holding you and comforting you with their warmth aren't just falling water.

It takes you a few minutes to realize that the tracks running down your face aren't coming from the cascade above you. The sobs you've learned to hold in and keep quiet start gurgling in your chest, and before you can tamp them down, they burst out in full force.

Your knees give out and you crumble to the floor of your shower. The salt of your tears mixes with the water around you and for the first time ever, you hate him almost as much as you love him.

***

Everyone looks just as confused as you do when they are called into the office extra early for seemingly no reason. You all meet in the conference room, trying to figure out what kind of case could be so secretive that none of you were briefed, when a figure appears in the doorway.

"Welcome back," Derek mutters from across the room, but you can't take your eyes off of Aaron (and his beard?).

"You're back," you exhale, equal amounts of joy and fury flooding your system.

"Everyone," he nods, motioning to you all, "take a seat."

Everyone sits down obediently, and then he dives into the speech that you have both dreaded and looked forward to for months.

"Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team."

The lying is finally over.

"As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle."

They look so confused. God, why can't he get to the point.

"But the doctors were able to stabilize her."

There it is. She's okay. Emily is alive, and she's okay.

"Her identity was strictly need-to-know."

They look so betrayed. You've been lying to them for months, of course they feel betrayed.

"She's alive?" Penelope asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer gapes. "...But we buried her."

Aaron closes his eyes for a moment, and you can see the emotions swirling inside of his head. Pain, anger, self-hatred.

"If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me."

"Who else knew?" Derek yells, his eyes brimming with hurt.

Aaron's eyes flash to you for barely a moment, but it's enough. They all turn to you, disbelief coloring their features.

"This whole time?" Reid mutters, his eyes not fully meeting yours. "You knew this whole time?"

You are spared from answering when Emily steps into the doorway, a shawl thrown over her shoulders. You know you don't deserve the reunion as much as they all do, but seeing her is still a shock.

Even though you were privy to the details of her re-assignment, you haven't seen her since that day at the hospital either. Penelope and Spencer rush forward, pulling her into desperate hugs that burn your throat with tears.

Morgan is standing still, his hands motionless on the back of one of the conference room chairs.

"Derek," you plead, trying to catch his eye. "I'm so sorr-"

He doesn't let you finish, his hand coming up in an evasive gesture. "Save it."

A sob catches in your throat and you walk out of the room.

***

Aaron's apartment building looks exactly the same as it did seven months ago, when you came to say goodbye before he left for Pakistan.

You sit in your car for what feels like hours, but when you finally step out onto the street, it's only been ten minutes.

After Hotch broke the news to the team, you went home in a haze, unsure of how you were even able to drive. Hours of sitting by yourself in the dark didn't do anything to change your mental state, and you were already in the car when you realized what was eating at you.

Now you are in front of his door and you can hear his footsteps getting closer and closer. When the door opens, you push past him, swiveling your head as you look around the apartment.

"Is Jack here?" you ask, searching for his telltale head of blonde hair.

Hotch shakes his head, clearly confused. "He's with Jess until tomorrow."

You nod, trying to formulate what you want to say in your head. There are so many words swirling around your brain, but nothing feels just right.

"What's going on?" he asks, taking a step towards you. "Are you doing okay?"

That's what breaks you.

"Am I doing okay?" you cry, your hands coming up to rake your hair back. "Emily's finally back, and I can't even enjoy it, because the whole team hates me."

"I'm sorry," he says, his brow furrowing. He takes another step toward you. "They're going to hate me too, if that makes you feel any better."

You scoff, turning away from him as you pace across his living room. "They'll never hate you as much as they hate me, because you weren't here. You weren't the one lying to their faces everyday for seven months. I was!"

He deflates, and suddenly he looks smaller than you've ever seen him before. "I'm so sorry for putting you in that position. I can't imagine how painful it would have been to lie to the team for so long."

He's saying all the right things and that only makes you angrier.

"You don't get it," you grit out, your fingers pressing into the back of your neck. "They had each other. All those months they were grieving, at least they were together. For a second, I had you, but then you left me and I was all alone."

Your voice breaks on the last word and he reaches forward as you fall into his arms, sobs wracking your body. "I missed you. When you left, I hated you, but I still missed you every day you were gone."

Your face burrows into the crook of his neck as he holds you tightly in his arms, his strong body holding you up as your legs threaten to give out. He smells different, like pepper and smoke, and you resist the urge to breathe him in now that he's finally here.

When you pull back, you stay in the circle of his arms, relishing the way his hands feel resting against your lower back. It's almost comforting to know that your body still reacts to him the same way it did seven months ago.

He's so close to you that you can feel his breath on your nose. If you tilted your head back your lips would brush his, and it takes everything in you not to give in.

But then the familiar warning bells go off in your brain and you take a step back. You aren't completely in the dark. You know that he feels something for you that isn't strictly professional, but you also know that if you lost him the way he lost Haley, you wouldn't be able to handle it. At least not with the grace that he has.

Your expression falls and his eyes fill with pain. "I shouldn't have left. I was wrong. Please forgive me."

"That's the problem," you sigh, resisting the disturbing urge to laugh at how deep inside of you he has burrowed himself. "I forgave you the moment you walked through the door."

***

Emily's return softens the blow of what you and Aaron had done, so by the time Ian Doyle is killed and the case is finished, the whole team is mostly working together cohesively again.

Spencer and Derek didn't speak more than a few words to you for weeks afterward, but when Emily made it clear that it was her life that hung in the balance, they eventually came around.

With the Senate hearings and Congressional oversight starting to take a backseat, the team was finally getting a chance to loosen up, and after investigating a serial killer in Atlanta, you all decided to make a day out of cheering on Aaron at the FBI triathlon.

Jack holds your hand as you lead him through the small crowd that has gathered by the finish line. The rest of the team is already there, leaning against the barricade, and Derek props Jack up on his shoulders when he gets to the front. He waves his big sign in the air and you grin as he cheers loudly, even though nobody has made it to the finish line yet.

"Do you see him, Uncle Dave?" Jack asks as he starts to get bored.

Rossi peers out across the trail. "Yeah, buddy, I think I do!"

You all turn to see Aaron jogging across the grassy expanse, his running form impeccable (of course). Everyone starts cheering and when he sees you all, a smile crosses his face, his eyes glinting with joy and amusement.

"Running should be illegal," you complain as Aaron pads along a few feet ahead of you, his skin barely starting to glisten while yours is covered in sweat. "How far are we now? We've definitely done at least a half-marathon."

He snorts, checking his fitness tracker. "We're halfway through the second mile."

You groan, slowing to a stop and putting your hands on your knees. "I have no idea how I scored so well on my academy physical. I'm not as young as I used to be."

"How old does that make me?" he asks, the corner of his lips quirking up.

You shake your head, lifting up a finger as you ask for another minute. "If we're talking in terms of physical fitness, you may just be younger than me, Hotchner."

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly before patting your back and nodding. "Come on, let's keep going."

You groan again, this time more dramatically, but you start jogging alongside him, making a genuine effort to keep up. "Okay, so you can run. Well, need I remind you that a triathlon has three events...my money's on the swim taking you out."

His eyes twinkle like bright stars and you have to look away, pretending that the sun's in your eyes. "I think I can handle myself. Besides, I have a much better chance of completing the swim than the bike ride at this point."

"Well," you grin, speeding up a bit to run a few steps ahead, "you know what they say about riding a bicycle!"

"Thank you guys for coming," he says sincerely after hanging his medal around Jack's neck.

"Oh, we wouldn't miss it," Derek grins, smacking him on the back playfully.

"How do you feel?" Rossi asks.

Aaron sighs, a small grin appearing on his face. "I'll survive."

Jack patters around the group and reaches forward to grab your hand again, and you don't miss the look in Aaron's eyes when you take it.

The sweet domesticity you wanted. This is it.

Your chest burns with tears and you clear your throat, squeezing Jack's hand and helping him roll up his poster.

"Okay, drinks tonight," Rossi announces suddenly, clapping his hands together. "On me!"

That gives you all another reason to cheer, and you lead Jack to Hotch's car as JJ loops her arm through yours.

Penelope and Derek walk a few paces behind you, arms linked, and Emily, David, and Spencer are deep in conversation about something you probably wouldn't understand.

The team feels like a family again.

Happy tears sting your eyes and you blink them away, hoping no one noticed. But when you look up to find Aaron's car, he's already watching you, and you could have sworn his eyes were glinting too.

***

The whole team is crowded around one booth in the back of the fancy bar that Rossi selected for tonight's celebration. You are squished between Aaron and Penelope, and the conversation has gone from the average running speed of adult males (Reid's idea) to how many shots would you need before you'd be willing to go and dance in front of the whole team (Emily's).

Your empty vodka tonic is sitting on the table in front of you, condensation dripping onto the dark wood as the ice melts.

"I'm going to get another drink," you announce, before pushing past Hotch and Rossi and slinking up to the bar.

"Can I get a cosmopolitan?" you ask the bartender, who nods at you before turning around to make your drink.

You drum your fingers against the counter as you wait, but it doesn't take long before a tall, blonde man who looks to be about your age sidles up next to you.

"What are you having?" he asks, his eyebrows raised in a way that you're sure he thinks is seductive.

"I'm already set," you tell him, turning your body away slightly, "but thanks."

"I saw you with your group earlier," he continues as you flash your eyes at the bartender in a signal you hope conveys that you need him to hurry up. "Unless you're with the nerdy one, I'm not sure what the problem is."

"The problem," you explain, your jaw clenching as your drink finally lands on the counter, "is that I'm not interested."

You grab your drink and immediately turn around, but thankfully Emily and JJ have come up to order new drinks too. Clearly outnumbered, the man shakes his head and leaves you alone.

Aaron hasn't taken his eyes off you since you got up from the booth. When a man approached you at the bar, he felt the first inkling of jealousy scrape through his bones, but your body language quickly made it clear that you weren't interested, and that you could handle yourself.

He probably should be a bit more careful with how much he watches you, especially when surrounded by a band of profilers, but sometimes, when the day comes to a close, and he's had a drink or two, his shields fall down and he allows himself a moment to just...pretend.

Pretend that what you feel for each other is something he can act on. Pretend that you are someone he can look for in a bar. Someone he can call his.

He's lost in his thoughts when David mutters something from next to him.

"What was that?" he asks, turning his head to hear him better.

Dave repeats himself. "It's okay, you know."

Aaron frowns. "What are you talking about."

"What you feel for her...it's okay."

His brow furrows and a pained look crosses his face. They were bound to notice eventually, and he would have had to tell them at some point. If not now, when? "It doesn't feel okay all the time."

Dave sighs, his fingers running over the side of his whiskey glass. "When you're with her...does it make everything else hurt less?"

Aaron shoots him a look that's a mix between confusion and exasperation, but when he thinks about the question, all he can hear in his head is yes, yes, a resounding yes.

Dave must see it on his face, because he smiles and shrugs. "Then how can it be wrong?"

He turns to look at you again, but this time the lights in the bar feel brighter than before. The music sounds clearer and the smile on your face sets his whole chest ablaze.

When you return to the table, you finish your drink, but you don't go back for another. You've noticed Aaron looking at you here and there throughout the night, but you're not sure if it's just your imagination or if you're tipsier than you thought.

The team is laughing around you, and Aaron's thigh feels warm pressed against yours. You haven't been this happy in ages.

***

After what has easily been the most taxing case of your life, the weekend comes to a close with an evening you have all been waiting for almost as long as JJ and Will have.

"You clean up well," you joke as Aaron walks into Rossi's backyard, where the rest of you are scattered around, talking to the wedding guests.

He's wearing a clean, black tux that fits him perfectly.

"You think so?" he asks, the ghost of a smirk in his eyes. "You look beautiful."

You smile in response, letting him lead you to the back of the patio, where rows of folding chairs have been set up. He looks better, lighter, than you've seen him in a while. It suits him.

JJ and Will get married in an elegant ceremony that leaves no more than a few dry eyes in the audience, and when they take to the floor for their first dance, you sip your champagne from a table off to the side.

Aaron is watching Spencer do magic tricks in front of the children, and he's wearing one of his secret, dazzling smiles that he only brings out when he thinks no one is watching.

"This seat taken?"

You turn to see Emily's hand on the chair next to you, and you shake your head, smiling as she takes a seat.

"You look wonderful," you tell her, patting her hand on the table. "I'm so glad you're here. You were amazing this weekend. This wedding wouldn't be happening without you."

She laughs, taking a sip of champagne. "I'll be sure to tell Will you said that."

You chuckle, settling into a comfortable silence that is only really possible with people you know as well as you know this team.

Emily adjusts her dress and you think she's going to get up and re-join the group, but then she takes you completely by surprise. "You should go for it."

You look at her, confused. "Huh?"

Deep down, you know what she's referring to, but if you can play dumb for a few more moments, you won't miss out on the opportunity.

"You and Hotch. You should go for it."

You open your mouth to respond, but she gets up and leaves you to mull over her words.

When Rossi asks everyone to join the newly married couple on the dance floor, you assume that you'll just hang off to the side with Reid, but then you get your second surprise of the night.

"Care to dance?"

Aaron holds his hand out, only mostly certain that you will accept. When you take his hand, he's as much relieved as he is pleased, and he leads you out into the center of the clearing.

Your hand finds his shoulder as his slips onto your waist, and you fall into an easy rhythm as you look up at him, a smile on your face. You look radiant under the twinkling fairy lights, and he has to tear his eyes away from you when you lean in closer to rest your chin on his shoulder.

His arms envelope you as your chests press together, your breaths going in and out in unison.

You peer over his shoulder, watching as Derek and Penelope laugh in the corner, and Emily tries to teach Spencer how not to step on her feet.

"Jack looks happy," you whisper as your eyes land on the children playing off to the side.

"He is," Aaron agrees, and you can hear the smile in his voice. After a pause, his head dips down and his cheek presses against your temple. "We are."

***

When the night comes to a close, you are looking for Emily, since she drove you to Rossi's house, but a pat on your shoulder stops you in your tracks.

"I can take you home," Aaron says, his eyes filled with an earnest look that has you nodding before you can even process the offer.

The car ride is nearly silent during the short trip back to your apartment, but when he pulls up in front of your building, you can't bring yourself to open the door.

You can feel a tension in the air, the same one that has been building for years, and for some reason, tonight, you're not scared of it anymore.

"Aaron..." you whisper, turning to look at him, but he cuts you off.

"I love you."

Your breath leaves your lungs and you open your mouth to say it back, but he keeps going.

"I'm not some young player anymore," he says, a breathy chuckle leaving his mouth as he speaks. "I think you know what I feel for you. I think you've known for some time."

You've forgotten how to speak. "I didn't know for sure."

"I know why you never brought it up," he whispers, his voice tight with emotion, "but even though she's gone, I know she wouldn't have wanted me to be alone forever."

None of the words floating around your brain seem good enough, and you can't think, so you just lean forward and kiss him.

His lips are softer than you imagined, and after a moment of indecision, he reaches up and threads his fingers through your hair, holding you against him. The kiss is sweet and it feels like the perfect start to something new and fresh, but then his tongue slips along the seam of your lips, and you gasp, heat shooting down to your core.

"Aaron," you gasp against his mouth, your hands gliding up his chest and over his shoulders. "Let's go inside."

He pulls back momentarily, and there's a small smudge on his lips from your lip gloss.

You throw open the car door and practically speed-walk to the elevators as he follows closely behind you. It takes years to get up to your apartment, but when you finally get the door open, you're on him again, your lips pressing against his and your hands tangled in his thick hair.

A groan rumbles in his throat when you tug slightly, and he grips your waist, moving you back and lifting you onto the couch.

"You'll tell me if it's too much," he says frantically, his voice low and strained. "If you want me to stop and take it slower, you just have to say it."

You shake your head, pulling him down on top of you. "I've waited for this for years. I'm not going anywhere."

He smiles against your skin, peppering slow kisses down your jaw as your eyes fall closed and pleasure melts down your spine. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you tightly as though he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

Aaron's ministrations are slow and careful, and you quickly become impatient, your body squirming as you implicitly beg for more. You're practically vibrating under him when he lifts his knee and presses into you, his lips moving in unison with his body as he applies a glorious pressure that has you gasping into his mouth.

Where did he learn to do that?

Heat swells in your abdomen and you pull back, your eyes wild and your chest heaving.

"What is it?" he asks, his forehead furrowing. "Are you okay?"

"I need more," you exhale, reaching down to grab at the hem of his shirt.

You yank open the buttons and slip it over his shoulders, reveling at how beautiful he looks on top of you. When his mouth returns to your chest, you keen against him, your legs pressing together as you try to ward off the pleasure rising inside of you.

Aaron reaches down and tugs the bottom of your dress up, yanking upward until it's over your head. Your hair cascades down, splayed out around your face like a halo, and he can't imagine that any angel would look prettier than you do right now.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and along your stomach.

The sensation is not enough, but the sheer anticipation of where he's heading has your whole body tingling.

He takes his time, kissing the soft skin of your inner thighs and working his up around your core until he finally dives in. His hands takes your calves and lift them onto his shoulders as he licks a thick stripe up the center of your cunt.

You writhe against the smooth couch, your hands grabbing onto his hair for some semblance of support as he thrusts his tongue inside of you, his nose bumping against your clit with an infuriating rhythm.

Aaron moves his tongue with the movements of your body as he painstakingly avoids the one place you are begging for him to go. Your hand tightens in his hair and he groans, creating satisfying vibrations that make you shudder.

Just when it seems like it may never be enough, he laves over you, sucking at your clit with a lewd, wet sound that makes you moan so loudly, you shock even yourself.

He hums with pride and your hips fly off the couch, trying to get closer and closer as you near the precipice of all the pleasure that's been building up. He sucks you into his mouth one more time and you fall over the edge with a strangled cry.

His hands press into your abdomen, trying to keep you still so that he can keep working at you, but pleasure rolls over you as your body spasms below him. You lift your head slightly as you come down from the high, and you see him pushing himself into the couch, his eyebrows pinched in a strained expression.

When the shudders finally abate, Aaron crawls back up your body, a big grin eating at his face. He plants another kiss on your mouth and the taste of yourself on his tongue makes you whimper.

"I want to feel you," you gasp between clashes of teeth, "inside me."

He freezes and you're afraid you may have gone too far, but then he's tugging off his pants and you can't help the small smirk that flashes across your face.

When he's fully bare, your mind goes blank and you move to reach down and take him in your hand, but he just shakes his head, pushing your shoulder back gently to lay you down again.

The apartment is silent except for low grunts and harsh breathing as Aaron enters you slowly, pushing forward until he is seated fully inside of you. His size is impressive and it takes a few moments for the initial sting to dissolve into white, hot pleasure.

He takes his time to let you get adjusted, but when you grit out a "please, move" he doesn't wait another second. His thrusts start slow, because he wants to work you up until you're writhing beneath him, but when he peers down at you, his breath leaves his body.

You are everything he imagined, and he can feel you everywhere, from the flush of his cheeks to the tingling of his toes. You look like a dream below him, one he never wants to wake up from.

Aaron pushes into you, harder this time, and a barely constrained bliss fills your eyes, a cocktail of desire and hunger mixing to create the greatest possible pleasure he can imagine.

You squeeze around him like a vice grip, and a deep, low sound rumbles in his chest, stuttering his movements.

Your legs shake as he runs his hand up your thigh, before lifting it up and around his waist. The new angle hits a deeper spot inside of you and you let out a moan so beautiful that he can't resist dipping down to press his lips to yours.

You tighten around him once more and he can tell how close you are, so he speeds up his thrusts, creating a rhythm that has you shuddering against him. You reach your climax a moment later and with you falling apart below him, he thinks that he finally understands what it means to have everything you could ever want.

After a few more thrusts, he spills into you, his arms the only thing holding his body up as all energy flows out of him. He rests his forehead against yours and his breath stutters as he falls onto the couch beside you.

You may be completely spent, but you're not ready to be away from him yet, so you tuck yourself into his arms, practically on top of him as he wraps himself around you.

"I love you too," you whisper, ghosting your lips over his pulse.

Aaron sighs out a breath of contentment and he pulls you closer to him, unable to let go just yet. Emotions that he finally understands rise up inside his body and for the first time in a long time, he lets them wash over him.

This is it. This is what home feels like.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #hotch x reader #hotch x female!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner fic

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sparkles-rule-4eva · 4 days

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Alrighty! @number-one-shadisper-shipper and I binged the Knuckles series today, so time for thoughts! SPOILER ALERT.

I'll admit the show wasn't perfect. I've seen the negative reviews, and I kinda get where they come from. BUT! I did enjoy this show greatly! And I'm not here to complain. Time for some happy thoughts, y'all! 💙🤩

I think you need to have a love, not just tolerance, for the SCU in order to properly enjoy this show. I do have such, so I had a lot of fun with it.

There were definitely scenes from every episode that had me either squealing, laughing, crying, or flipping out. But my favorite was likely the first episode, because come on, we saw the Wachowski family! Most of them, anyway! While I missed Tom's presence, I was grateful for that comment from Maddie about him being "out of town," so he wasn't just gone for no reason.

The SECOND it showed our three space babies hanging out together in their room?! I SCREAMED. THE BOYS!!!!

Tails sitting on his bed tinkering with one of his gizmos, Sonic rocking out to music with an air guitar, and Knuckles exercising from one of the ceiling planks. IT'S THEM!!! They're just hanging out, doing their thing, looking oh so much like brothers. And Sonic's narration at the beginning was GOLD. 🤣💙

Even though we didn't get enough of Maddie being a parent, we definitely got a nice chunk for it only lasting part of an episode. Maddie called Knuckles "one of our kids" (that had me SCREECHING). The angry mama vibes were GOLDEN. 🤣 The way she made breakfast for them, the "Boys, breakfast is ready!" I love the normalcy of it! Can't wait to see more in the future! (Her calling to them with "boys" is somehow just the sweetest thing and I'm melting.)

The poor mailman being like "I just wanna go home, man" 🤣

We were right, fellas, Knuckles had no idea what being grounded meant. 🤣 Although the way Sonic piped up with "Oh, I definitely know what it means," has me suspecting that Sonic himself has gotten grounded a decent amount before. 😂

Knuckles trying to talk back, and Maddie going, "ExCUSE ME?!" then just making those tiny, terrifying noises and Sonic being like "Bro don't mess with Mom when she's mad" (okay, he didn't say "mom" and that made me sad, but the mom vibes were 110% there so I'm here for it). 😂 And since Knuckles snuck out and later Wade said, several times, "Aren't you grounded?" seems to confirm that this entire show is basically what Knuckles does when he's grounded. 🤣 Although ... his comment about not being able to be grounded because he had no home made me very sad. 😭

I did not have an issue with so much Wade screentime! Sure, he isn't my favorite SCU character, but I love what this show did with him! I'd already seen his moments in the movies (like nearly shooting Robotnik in the face with an actual handgun). I like how they gave him actual family issues; a dad who abandoned him and his family, a realistic sister, a mom. Bad family memories. Awkward reunions. They could've made it a joke, but they didn't, and I greatly appreciate that. Especially since I've witnessed firsthand how painful family separations can be. 😔

All the emotional talks Wade and Knuckles had caught me off guard in the best way! The way they talked about their different family issues, the way they talked of betrayal from friends, and being left alone, hit way harder than I was prepared for. Especially that talk they had at the burger place in the middle of the night? Oof. Good talk right there.

Also, even though they took a "show don't tell" take with it, I loved how Knuckles relaxed more and more throughout the show. In the beginning, he couldn't rest, he couldn't sit back and have a genuine good time. But the more he hung out with Wade and his family, the more he learned. He learned about music and found "his jam" (that was literally amazing btw). He watched movies with Mrs. Whipple and ate snacks in the hotel room in Reno and watched more movies. He had his teenager moments of rolling his eyes and rebelling, but he was so well portrayed here, I loved it. I felt for him.

Despite the bizarre nature of the episode "Flames of Disaster," (we were cracking up so hard) I'm trying to glean bits of the truth of Knuckles's story from the crazy musical play that Pachacamac put on in Wade's dream. I mean, "Longclaw" and her tribe were there, and ... what the heck was that giant demon thing?! Iblis?! Does our Knuckles Wachowski have an actual history with freaking Iblis?!?! 😱🔥

I was deeply intrigued by the two main antagonists, especially at the implication that G.U.N. did seem to exist before the events of the first movie?! Did it exist, get disbanded after the Maria incident, then get reformed?! My brain is exploding. 🤯 I was even more shocked that they apparently died? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the Wachowski kids don't seem to have much qualms about getting rid of the baddies for good as the game versions do. That was a terrifying phenomenon, what happened with the two rings. 🫣

And then the Buyer getting crushed by the giant glass ball 👀

Although in those last two episodes, I admit I was freaking out and legitimately near tears at Wade's seemingly having to "betray" Knuckles. Before the reveal that all was in good communication, all I could think was how relaxed Knuckles finally seemed, chilling in the hotel room, being excited about whatever Wade wanted to "show" him, questioning whether it was a song, him declaring that he was going to bring his favorite hat, 🥹 all I could think was of their previous discussions about betrayal from friends and family, and when Knuckles called Wade "my friend" right before the elevator doors closed, I just about sobbed. I was like "please, don't let him be betrayed, don't let him have come all this way and relaxed so much only to get 'betrayed' once again by someone he's come to consider a friend." 😭 We heaved a HUGE sigh of relief when it revealed he was aware of the trap the whole time. 😪

Maternal instincts went nuts when he got so badly hurt in that final battle 😭 I literally reached for the screen several times and was right back to almost weeping 🥲 And someone tell me I wasn't the only one noticing the parallel in that scene with Wade standing in front of his unconscious body the way Tom did with Sonic in the first movie. That, PLUS Knuckles's epic comeback, and his retrieval of his own power?!?! EPIC!!!!

The ending was abrupt, sure, but the pure joy on Knuckles's face after everything as he jumped up to high five Wade was just too sweet. 🥹

So yes, even though I would have loved just a little more, a return to Green Hills, a reunion with Maddie, Sonic, and Tails, I adored this show. It was a wild ride, full of laughs, tears, excited screeching, etc. 💙💛❤️ I don't care what anyone says, nothing will make me hate it.

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radiant-reid · 1 year

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300

him in cult episodes >>>>

Summary: Reader recalls something Spencer told her months ago when he’s taken hostage by a cult (based on 14x01)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst/fluff)

Content Warning: mentions of most of spencer’s trauma

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist | Navigation

Everything’s a mess.

Y/n’s used to the BAU lifestyle, and today is not the first day a team member has been abducted. It’s not even the first time that it’s been Spencer’s life in danger. Last time it was a three-month-long nightmare that seemed never ending during his time in prison.

It was different now. After what he said, everything between them changed.

She’s not expecting anyone when Spencer slides open the door to the balcony, and she whips her head around to see him.

It’s late in the evening, and she’s escaped the ground floor of Rossi’s mansion, where everyone’s partying, to a quieter balcony upstairs. Cicadas chirp in the spring night air, and there’s a faint beat of the bass of the music from downstairs. Rossi lives far enough outside of DC that the stars are bright, shimmering in the dark sky.

The balcony has a comfortable outdoor couch and armchair, perfect for sitting there and tuning out the world. She needs to do that. Spencer, her fellow BAU team member and friend, has been out of prison for a month, but the stress hasn’t dissipated completely. If she thinks about it hard enough, she’s back sitting at the round table while Penelope reads over an arrest report from Mexico, feeling completely helpless.

“There she is.” He greets her with a kind smile.

His smiling is something she seriously missed when he was away. “Hey.” She replies.

He holds out her jacket that she’d left downstairs, helping put it on her shoulders. “I thought you might be cold up here.” He explains the thoughtful gesture. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, not at all.” She shakes her head, nodding to the armchair she’s not occupying. “Sit, please.”

He accepts her offer eagerly. Then he follows her eyes out over Rossi’s perfectly maintained yard to the sky. “Wow.” He comments.

She hums at his tone. “I know.” She agrees. “Has everyone else gone home?”

Spencer shakes his head. “No, but they’re onto karaoke.” He informs her, laughing before his following statement. “Very alarming sounds.”

She chuckles slightly. He wouldn’t believe it, but he’s funny. She appreciates their time together more now, having gone without it for three long months.

“They’re missing out on your singing.” She jokes, smirking at him.

It’s mostly in reference to karaoke at The Benjamin all those years ago, where they sang all night long. It seems like a long time ago, and so much has changed, but despite what he’s been through, Spencer’s glow never diminished. He’s still the guy who somehow knew how to deliver a baby when he needed to.

“They don’t need to hear that.” He assures her, chuckling. “Again.”

“I thought it was great.” She admits or teases: she’s not sure which. “A highlight was Bohemian Rapsody.”

He cringes, shaking his head at the foggy memory. “I was hoping by then you’d had enough to drink.”

“Oh, I had.” She assures him, earning a confused look from the genius before she reminds him of something he had happily forgotten. “Hotch videoed that whole night.”

Spencer does something he rarely does then, sharing the feelings in his big brain. “I miss him.”

Y/n does too. She’d never missed someone more than she missed Hotch when Spencer was in prison, knowing that his skills as a prosecutor would have been insanely helpful.

“Me too. I’m happy he’s spending time with Jack, though.” She reminds them why it had been his time to go. “The kid deserves it.”

Spencer agrees, but he doesn’t feel the need to say anything, so they sit there in silence. It’s the most peace he’s felt in a long time.

“Y/n?” He asks, briefly getting her attention when she turns to look at him.

“Mm?” She replies, prompting him to continue.

It’s now or never. He draws in a deep breath, preparing for what he needs to say. There’s been so much weight on his shoulders for the last month, and this confession will lift some of it off. One thing he’s learned since prison is that he needs to say what he feels before it’s too late.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He admits, voice wavering slightly. “I think I was always meant to be in love with you.

There’s a beat of silence. And then another. One more.

She’s taking the information in at a slow processing speed, and the words don’t reach her mouth.

He takes it as his answer. He didn’t tell her expecting anything, like her to love him back, just to feel lighter, which works. “I just- I need you to know that.”

She should kiss him. It’s the right thing to do. Not right as in socially acceptable, but right for herself. In her heart, she’s meant to be with him and now is the perfect opportunity. A literal confession spoken to her. There’s no room to worry about him not returning her feelings and their friendship souring. He’s in love with her, and she can’t reply.

More silence, and he decides that it’s getting awkward. He spirals about making her uncomfortable, so he stands up, walking back to the door. “Good night, Y/n.”

She wills her legs to work, to run after him and catch him on the stairs, eagerly jump into his arms and kiss him like she’s wanted to do since she met him in front of Rossi’s expensive artwork.

She doesn’t.

It’s what she’s thinking about on the jet. Maybe it’s selfish when everyone else goes over where the cult could have taken him, but she’s replaying that evening. How his hand felt when he grazed her bare shoulder, the sound of his shoes as he shuffled away, and how sweet the air tasted that night compared to the bitter resentment she tasted after she didn’t follow him.

“He told you the truth, huh?” JJ asks, sliding into the seat across from her before she even notices someone’s focus on her.

“You know?” Y/n asks in reply, slightly shocked. Sure, they’re best friends, but she didn’t expect Spencer to be spilling his romantic feelings about a colleague to JJ.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know for so long.” She remarks, met with a confused look from her friend. In her mind, Y/n had assumed Spencer had been in love with her for a few months, maximum. “He’s been in love with you for years.”

Her heart sinks in her chest. Is it wrong for her to feel warm? Knowing Spencer’s out there alone- hurt, from what Penelope said- it seems inappropriate. “He has?” She repeats.

“Since he met you.” She answers before amending her speech. “Maybe a week or two after.”

So about as long as she had loved him. And she might never get to tell him.

She can’t help but think about how she might stand over his casket and cry next week, wishing she had told him that night, back when everything was perfect.

JJ sees the panic, how her face goes pale, and she reaches out to touch her friend’s arm. “He’ll be okay.” She promises. She has to have that faith, too, if she’s going to be able to function.

Y/n nods, willing herself to keep it together. “I know. Let’s get him back.”

She must have spent most of the flight before JJ came to sit with her in shock because soon the plane’s landing, and they’re in SUVs driving to the cult’s compound.

Her heart races in her chest, pulse thumping once they arrive, and Emily initiates the infiltration plan. They’ve got to be quick and quiet, knowing the cult will claim Spencer as their 300th victim without being talked down. To them, his being there is a decade in the making. It’s spiritual, and there’s no way they’ll let him go.

He’s completely tied up onto a structure, standing upright, when she gets a peek at him, his hands strapped by his side, legs tied, and a band wrapped around his head to keep his head in place. It’s very sacrificial with The Messiah and Agent Meadows standing around him.

He’s bruising, too, red marks around his face that will develop into a deep purple. She can’t see into his mind, but she wonders if he’s formulating an escape plan because he looks like he’s accepted it, conceded defeat, and come to terms with dying. Even from far away, his eyes are watery and his breathing steady, like he’s finally admitted to himself that they’re not coming to save him.

It’s easily the most terrifying expression she’s seen on anyone’s face. It’s bone-chilling.

They move in quickly, knowing he has seconds, not minutes. Y/n dashes to Spencer with JJ, the cult members around her getting shot or arrested being blocked out of her mind.

His face softens when he sees her, fingers flexing as she and JJ untie his restraints. When his hands are free, he falls forward onto her, clutching her tightly, one arm over her shoulder, one under.

It’s the tightest she’s ever been hugged, his grip making her feel like she’s his lifeline and he’s coming back to life. He pants out a breath like he hasn’t breathed since he was tied up. His hands spread out on her back, he buries his chin in her neck, and they rock side to side.

“Y/n.” Spencer whispers, closing his eyes and focusing on holding her. “You came.”

“Of course.” She replies. “Always. You good?”

“Can I have another minute?” He asks, practically begs. Even if she’s not his, he needs to hold her for a bit longer before he can’t ever again.

She squeezes him tighter, assuring him it’s okay. “Always.” She repeats.

It feels like it’s just the two of them, despite the chaos behind her. She takes in his cologne and how right it feels to be comforting him. Her feelings for him are much more straightforward in her head than they were that night at Rossi’s.

His breathing calms down, so it’s not erratic hyperventilating, and he loosens his grip around her, more than ready to get out of there now that he feels alive and whole again.

She loses him after that, keeping some distance while he hugs everyone else and thanks them in true Spencer fashion. There isn’t an opportunity to talk to him when they’re on the jet home since Emily is. She just sits and watches him, reminding herself that he’s okay.

She can’t stop thinking about his expression from the cult compound when she saw him, how unafraid he looked despite knowing he was about to get sacrificed. Maybe he knew they were there, like something deep inside him told him he’d be okay, but he looked prepared to die.

There are more hugs when they get back to Quantico, Penelope practically unwilling to let him go or out of her sight. The case has to end, and exhaustion falls over them when the adrenaline wears off, despite a new day dawning.

That night, she runs after him like she should have done at Rossi’s, barely making it to the elevator before the doors shut.

He looks surprised to see her. “I thought you went home.” He says.

She couldn’t. She’s not sure she’ll be able to leave him in the BAU ever again. “I didn’t.” She reports then immediately feeling like an idiot because that much was obvious.

“Why?” He asks caringly.

“You were still here.” She admits honestly, looking up at his gentle brown eyes. They’re always more golden in the morning.

“I just had to do a psychological counseling thing.” He explains.

Her eyebrows furrow, confused about why someone would make him do that only hours after he was saved. “This soon?”

He nods. “Damaged goods.” He says, like it’s his label. And he fully believes it.

“You’re not.” She firmly tells him, mostly angry the FBI would subject him to something invasive so early.

“Y/n.” He says in a tone that sounds like he’s begging her not to sympathize with him falsely.

Y/n shakes her head, eyeing him with fiery irises as she dares him to continue speaking negatively of himself. “You saved yourself, Spencer.” She informs him sincerely. “Are you hungry?” She asks.

The change of topic disorients him, but it seems a better conversation than arguing over how much of a mess he is. “Starving.” He answers. He didn’t have much time to think about it, with being abducted by a cult, but he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, if you can call a packet of chips lunch.

“Do you want to get breakfast?” She offers before quickly retracting any implications her suggestion could have. “Unless you just need some time alone or don’t want to hang out with him. I won’t be offended.” She wants to tell him, needs to confess what she should have before, but he’s in such an emotional state that she would hate to take advantage of that.

She couldn’t get further from the truth. Spending time with her, specifically, has always made things easier. “I’d really like that.” He admits, sending her a soft smile.

They barely speak on the drive into DC. There’s a lot of tension in the air, words left unspoken, but Spencer needs time to look at her. He’s at a point where he knows nothing will happen between them, but there’s still a life he imagines when he needs a quick spike of dopamine. She, and an imagined future between them, is his drug of choice now.

He orders pancakes, copying her, rather than getting his usual meal of eggs, bacon, and toast. He ditches coffee in favor of juice, knowing he’s going home to sleep after breakfast when the rest of the adrenaline wears off.

No deep conversation gets brought up at breakfast, either. Instead, there’s laughter, and every time she looks up at him, Spencer smiles.

He’s used to going home alone after any trauma in his life. Even after prison and Mr. Scratch, he returned to an empty apartment. After he was abducted by Tobias Hankel, when he got out of the hospital after getting poisoned by anthrax, and even after he got shot in the neck in Texas after Alex dropped him at home, he was by himself.

It’s better with someone else -he decides while they’re sitting there- because he can not think about it in favor of thinking about her.

He eats like he’s been without food for a week, even getting a refill of juice, although everything he’s been through would make anyone hungry.

And he pays, despite her telling him she would, so she drives him home through the traffic-less streets, thanks to everyone being at work.

He hesitates before he gets out of the car once they arrive at his apartment. “Do you want to come up?”

She accepts, following him up the stairs. It’s a good time to do it, now that they’re alone and in private.

His apartment is lighter than when she saw it when she went with Penelope once to water his plants while he was in prison. It’s neater with the curtains open, and he might have added even more books to the impressive collection she previously noticed.

Unsure of how long she’s staying, Y/n takes off her shoes on instinct. Spencer’s not sure why he invited her up other than wanting to spend more time with her, so he’s not sure what to do now that she’s there.

She speaks before he can offer her water. “Were you scared?” She asks before realizing the insensitivity of her question. She doesn’t want to sound like a shitty Bureau psychologist, just his friend, haunted by a snapshot in her mind of his expression. “I just mean... we were, and Penelope was when she came. JJ was because you’re her best friend. You weren’t even shaking. Sorry I didn’t-”

Spencer cuts her off before she can spiral. “I wasn’t. Not when Penelope was safe.”

“Why not?” She asks. It makes sense, his wanting to protect Penelope, but she can’t understand why he wasn’t scared when he was moments away from death. She’s thought about it enough without coming up with an answer for it to be necessary to ask.

“Because, Y/n, what I told you that night at Rossi’s.” Her breathing hitches at the mention of the best, or maybe one of the worst, nights of her life. “If that’s the last proper, non-case-related discussion we have, I’m okay with that. I couldn’t die without you knowing I love you.”

She shakes her head, eyes tearing up at the confirmation of his acceptance of dying. “There’s more for you than that.” She says, hoping he knows it.

He does.

He’s got three perfect godsons, he’d love to go back to Paris, he’s always wanted a family, a wife and a big house, there are still books he hasn’t read, there are still sequels being written, there are classes yet to teach and profilers yet to train, there are chess games to win and to lose, and old friends left to see.

They both know his life isn’t close to be finished.

“You knowing is what mattered.” He repeats. “Right from when I realized I wasn’t going to get out by myself, I knew it would be okay since you knew.”

“It wouldn’t be okay!” She says a little too loudly, close to crying. “You can’t be okay with that.”

There’s more in her head, and he’s reluctant to push her to find out, but he does. “Why?”

She sighs, feeling small standing there in front of him. “Because if you died, I couldn’t have told you I love you.” She reveals one of her deepest fears that she hadn’t realized until recently.

“Oh,” Spencer says, jaw going slack. He’s rarely speechless. “Recently or...” It’s the only thing he can think to do: establish a timeline.

“For a long time.” She admits. “I just- I froze that night. I couldn’t say it, but I felt it.”

He senses the apology that’s about to spill and shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He believes it when he says it and walks closer to hold her hands in front of her. She’s surprised by the contact, but it’s nice, even if his hands are slightly cold.

For a moment, they just stand there, and she admires his gorgeous cheekbones and those honey-colored eyes that make her weak when he looks at her so intensely.

He doesn’t rush his next move. Slowly, he drops her hands and cups her cheeks, smiling softly. Then he leans forward, giving her what she’s been waiting for for a long time. His lips are soft on hers like he’s testing the waters, giving her a chance to pull away before pouring passion into it. She matches his pressure while basking in the glow of kissing Spencer Reid. Spencer Reid, who loves her.

They share a matching fond look when they pull back.

Then he’s laughing, and it’s the cutest thing in the world, along with being confusing. The slight, amused frown on her face causes him to explain. “You love me, and I love you.” He says like he can’t believe it. “Wow.”

She knows that reaction from when she had it at Rossi’s, and he looks adorable experiencing it, grinning so hard his face might split. For a long time, he’s wanted to be loved by someone romantically, and now he is. After everything he’s been through, Spencer thought it wouldn’t happen, and for the first time in his life, he’s glad to be wrong.

“What are you doing today?” He asks when he’s collected himself.

“Well, I was going to go home and sleep.” She answers, wondering what he’s going to suggest they do while knowing she could be persuaded into almost anything by him.

“Sleep here.” He says quickly. “Not like that.” A blush fills his cheeks. “If you want. Then we could go to dinner, lunch, a movie theatre, or the park, wherever you want.”

She’s nodding before he finishes. He could ask her out on a date to watch paint drying in his spare bedroom, and she would eagerly accept. “Yes.”

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gg-pedro · 3 months

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can you hear the music (ch. 3) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano and find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

chapter 3: today, it would be sarah's 34th birthday. but today, tomorrow, and every other day, joel needs you.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, implied age gap, smoochin', gropin', mentions of death, joel grieves, joel sings, arguing/fighting (kinda), mental health discussions, lewdness, angst, heavy feelings (and there's more where that come from!)

words: 3.4k

a/n: man. can u tell I rewatched episode 1? i’m proud of this one. also, I hope this reaches my fleetwood mac lovers.

Joel, while in the middle of hauling a bag of horse feed over his good shoulder (and ‘good’ was being generous), realized he was getting old. This was the tenth revelation of the day, give or take. From when he forced himself out of bed onto aching joints, to when he hadn’t heard Ellie come up behind him in the kitchen, and most notably, to when he realized Sarah’s 34th birthday would’ve been today.

It didn’t sting anymore. Not after this long, not after 20 years. It didn’t even hurt.

It just ached.

He sloughed the feed into the trough, stepping back to catch his breath. He glided his hand over the pretty little mare that he usually took out. She seemed too small to not be a pony, but hey, equine standards had flown out the window 20 years ago along with everything else.

Tommy knew, too. He never forgot. Maybe that's why he patted Joel on the back at breakfast that morning and told him to go ‘take a ride’. Clear his head. They still had work to do today. The Earth never stopped spinning. Joel thought that by now, it should’ve.

To be fair, the date could’ve been a little off, but the air was that same lukewarm cold and the sun shone blinding in a clear blue sky the same way it did on the day Sarah was born. Winter was melting into a tepid spring in Wyoming, and Joel was still here to fucking see it.

For a second he wondered if his vision was going, too, having to do a double-take when he noticed you leaning against the wooden beam of the stall entrance.

“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Y’ever heard of knocking?”

You rolled your eyes. “Must’ve missed the door.”

“How’d you find me?” He asked, finally turning to really look at you. Irritatingly beautiful.

“Ellie,” you answered. “Said you were going for a joy ride.”

He sighed, coming over to wrap his arms just below the dip of your spine. “Kid couldn’t keep a secret if her fuckin’ life depended on it,” he grumbled, pausing afterwards to give you a slow kiss.

“I like the honesty. She’s got nothing to hide, especially if it has anything to do with you.” You grinned and fell right into his little ploy.

“Mmh. Lucky me.”

He had you backed against the wooden railing in an instant, his hand creeping up below your shirt and onto the soft skin of your waist. The touch raised goosebumps all over your body. You placed two hands on either side of his neck, gently, enjoying the way he was feeling you up with his lips glued to yours.

“Now? Right here?” You asked once you had the chance to break away from his mouth. “A little risky, Miller. Don’t forget, I’m still your worst kept secret,” you chided.

“No, not right here. And fuck you.” He pulled away until all but one hand was still stroking your side through your shirt.

“Likewise.”

And Joel loved you. Maybe not in the same way he loved Tommy or Ellie or Sarah, but still, he did. He loved your smart mouth, the way you blazed like a fire in bed with him, your natural talent, the way you made it all ache less.

And you did– make it ache less. That was reason enough.

He gestured to the horse that was a few feet away, still eating its breakfast. “You wanna join?”

“Can’t say no,” you said. “What’s the occasion? I thought they were strict about leaving for non-essential reasons.”

Joel was looking at you until he wasn’t, his gaze going right through you. He could tell you. He knew he could. You knew about his daughter and you still never brought it up. You’d lost people too, he knew that. He could tell you and you would bring him into your arms and say something like, I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m here. I’m here if you need me.

He would tell you. But not today.

He shrugged and pressed a kiss into your hairline. “Just another day. I want you to come.”

“Alright, then.” You nodded towards the guitar sitting in the corner of the stall. Dark stained wood around the edges fading into a lighter mahogany. It was beautiful. “Bringing that, too?”

“Yeah, why not. Here, let me help.” He grabbed it and lifted it over your head, situating it so that the body of the guitar was resting against your back. “You ever played?”

You shook your head. “No. Good thing you do.”

He brought the horse out into the open, making sure he still had everything important– a gun in his pocket and a broken watch on his wrist. He helped you up onto the saddle, sitting behind him and flush with his back.

Outside the walls, It was a beautiful day. The sun had melted away the heavy snow on the peaks of the rolling hills, the first kiss of spring. New life, grass that had started to green. You had your arms wrapped tightly around Joel’s middle, face pressed against the back of his shoulder. The fields seemed boundless. You hadn’t realized just how infinitesimally small your world had grown since being in Jackson.

“Are there usually infected around here?” You asked.

“Not really. The valley helps. We’ll stay out in the open, don’t worry, baby.”

You didn’t even have to ask. The little tour he was giving you around the east end of the fields was mostly an effort to case the surrounding area, his senses on high alert for anything dangerous. The truth was, this place was secure. Still, Joel would move mountains to keep you safe. Would do anything. He’d made mistakes in the past that he wouldn’t let happen again. Couldn’t.

After a loop around the outer wall, riding with a mixture of the horse's friendly canter and Joel intentionally speeding her up to scare the shit out of you and make you hold on tighter to him, he settled on a plateau at the top of a hill, a few steps away from the thick evergreen forest.

After helping you off the mare and spreading out the woven blanket he had rolled up on the back of the saddle, Joel sat down with a heavy sigh. You tied the lead to a low tree branch where the horse seemed content to roam. After, you pulled the guitar over your head and handed it to him.

It was still early in the day, and the sun was barely cresting over the hilltops from this view. 10:42 AM. That’s when his daughter was born. He looked down at the broken face of his watch out of habit, even though the thing had been broken for years at this point.

You dropped down next to him and your head immediately connected with his shoulder. Looking over at him, his eyes were far away and glassy. “What’re you thinking about?”

Joel shook his head and pressed a slow kiss into your forehead. “Nothin’. Just wondering what I should play.” He brought the guitar into his lap and strummed it a little, pausing to tune the top string down half a step. “Feel like I gotta impress you.”

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. “You don’t have to. Who’d you used to listen to?”

“Oh, Jesus…” he had sort of let go of the fond memories he had of old music. With you, though, he was starting to miss it. “Some Zeppelin, some Billy Joel, Pearl Jam… Nirvana was just gettin’ good, too. Lots of Chet Atkins when I was younger.”

You just smiled, moving your hand to stroke his knee. “None of that surprises me.”

“You like Fleetwood Mac?” he asked after a while. “Stevie Nicks, always one of my favorites. My daughter’s, too.”

Your heart hurt a little at that. Joel had never brought up the daughter he’d lost with you. You kissed his shoulder as he started picking the strings to the tune of Landslide, that gentle back and forth that you hadn’t heard in more than 20 years.

“That's a good one, baby.”

You still remembered the lyrics. He did, too.

I took my love, I took it down

I climbed a mountain and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills,

‘Til the landslide brought me down

Joel’s playing wasn’t perfect. He’d picked the guitar up again a few times in the last couple weeks, but before that, it had been a lifetime ago. On that radio station in Austin, The Best Of The ‘70’s, this one would come on all the time. Sarah would grin and sing her best rendition, as loudly as possible, always egging Joel on to join in too. Sometimes he would, but not always. He regretted that.

He thought your voice was beautiful. Clear and bright. His voice was probably an octave below yours, gravelly and out of practice. The two of you mixed together like honey into whiskey.

Oh, mirror in the sky,

What is love?

Can the child in my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

He would’ve liked to scoff at that. There's nothing to do but handle it. Push forward and deal. He didn’t die on September 26th, 2003, despite his best efforts and no matter how much he wanted to. He was here with you. Singing with you, laughing through the verses, watching the sun light up your eyes. And for that? A part of him had to consider himself a lucky son of a bitch.

He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to make a life with you. The extent to which he could see that to fruition, he wasn’t sure. Everything was uncertain. He didn’t even deserve it. Nothing he had done over the past 20 years was worthy of you. But fuck, he could be good. If he tried, maybe, he could be good for you. And trying? It’d be worth it.

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’

‘Cause I’ve built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I’m getting older, too

Joel had to stop singing. Tears were swelling in his dark brown eyes and one wrong move would break the entire dam of emotions. He kept playing, though, into the second chorus, happy to listen to you.

Well, I’ve been afraid of–

“Joel?”

You turned away from the landscape to look at his face. Tears were streaking his cheeks, his eyes staring straight ahead of him. You didn’t say anything– you took the guitar out of his arms and brought him into yours instead. You rubbed slow circles into his flannel-clad back, holding him tight as his shoulders sagged and shuddered with every shaky inhalation.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry," he managed to say.

“It’s okay, Joel. You’re okay. It’s just me, you know I don’t mind. I got you, come on, just get it out.”

You had your own guesses as to what was getting to him so bad. You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t pry. He wouldn’t tell you like that, anyway. He had to do it himself.

After a few pregnant moments passed with the two of you like that, his breathing finally evened out enough for him to speak clearly. He pulled away from you, taking your face into his hands so you couldn’t look away. His eyes were reddened and puffy, his cheeks wet.

“I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you. D’you understand that? Nothin’. I’m gonna take care of you. Keep you safe. Keep you happy.” He tucked your hair behind your ears before gliding his thumbs over the skin just below your eye. “I will. You just gotta let me.”

You gently pried his hands away from your face, taking them into your own and pressing a kiss into his knuckles. “Okay, baby. I’ll let you. I’ll let you,” you repeated. “I’m safe with you, I know.”

He pulled you in suddenly, practically squeezing all of the air out of your lungs with the grip he had on you. “I promise you. I promise.”

He promised you, and you believed him.

And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills,

Well, the landslide bring it down

Oh, the landslide bring it down

At your lesson with Ellie, she seemed more motivated than you did. Sooner or later, she was going to exhaust the entire Star Wars: A Beginner’s Score sheet music book that you had found a few years back.

After successfully sight reading the first few bars of The Imperial March and promptly declaring that she had had enough ‘piano-ing’ for the day, Ellie gave you a look.

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

“Nothin’,” she said flippantly, looking away from you. “Just– are you and Joel, like, together?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ellie turned, looking exasperated. “Pft. You know exactly what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes and jokingly shoved her away from you by the forehead. “We’re getting married next week, actually,” you said, laughing. “Mhm, we’re running away with each other. Gonna buy a big white house with a big picket fence down south– you know, to keep you out.”

“Oh, fuck you, dude.” She giggled too, punching your shoulder in return hard enough to push you down the piano bench. “I have a right to know! And besides, I don’t have anyone to tell. I can keep a secret.”

“I disagree, but– if you memorize your F# minor scale by Tuesday, I’ll tell you all about it. Has to be perfect, though,” you qualified.

“Fine,” she said with stubborn resolve. “And… there's one more thing.” Her eyes cast downwards and her shoulders drooped a little as she gave a long exhale.

“What is it?”

She looked back up at you through her dark lashes. “Did you hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of soda?”

“The– the who?”

With a completely straight face, she said, “Yeah. He’s lucky it was a soft drink.”

Ellie’s laughter could barely be heard over your exaggerated groaning. You had your head dropped into your hands and Ellie in tears when Joel walked in through the front door.

Ellie, sighing and wiping her eyes, said: “I told her the ol’ soda-can-to-the-head one. Pretty good, right?”

“Jesus…” you heard Joel mutter.

Shiny-eyed and smiling, you pointed to the door. “Out of my house. Both of you. And don’t bother coming back.”

Ellie grabbed her coat and was out the door before Joel could even open his mouth. “See you Tuesday!”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

Later that day, in the hot and unusually busy Tipsy Bison, Joel was too drunk.

It was the perfect conclusion to the most bittersweet day he’d had in a while. Had the morning with you, finished up a roofing project just after dinner, and against his better judgment, asked if you wanted drinks. You arrived as a pair, undoubtedly eliciting new whisperings from your fellow Jackson residents, but Joel was starting not to care.

You’d mentioned going out together in passing to him after he had told you about the bar scene when he was younger, commenting on how you wished you’d gotten to experience that. And yeah, maybe this felt more like playing pretend to him than anything, but he wanted to give you good days. Good memories. A real life, where you could experience things with him and not have to worry about how long the happiness would last.

Tonight, it backfired. A year ago today, he would’ve been mixing whiskey and oxycodone to forget it was Sarah’s birthday. But now, he was too drunk with Tommy, and you were watching all of it, and he wished he still had a handful of pills to knock him out.

“She your girlfriend now, brother?” Tommy slurred, clapping him on the shoulder.

Joel grabbed you roughly by the waist from his seat at the bar, tucking you in close to him. “Yeah, she’s my girl,” he cooed. “Ain’t that right, pretty baby?”

Tommy chuckled, slamming his glass down onto the counter. “Same way Tessa was your girl? Or different this time?”

Joel wanted to be sick. “The fuck’s wrong with you, asshole?”

You, a little tipsy yourself by this point, smoothed a hand over Joel’s curls in an effort to de-escalate this conversation. “Joel, hey. He’s your brother. Don’t start a fight.”

Tommy shook his head and patted you on the arm. “It’s okay, baby, let him speak.”

Drunkenly, Joel stood up, pointing an accusatory finger at his brother. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be saddled with all this shit,” he started. “Always chasin’ your sorry ass. Halfway across the fuckin’ country this time. If it weren’t for you, Tess’d be here.”

This was an old argument, but they were drunk, and it seemed like the perfect time to rehash it.

Tommy stood up to meet his eyes. “Oh yeah? Really? If it weren’t for me, Joel, you’da had a bullet in your head by now. Oh, y’haven't told her? Your girl? Go on, tell her. Tell her all about Sarah. Happy fuckin’ birthday to her.”

“Keep her name out your motherfuckin’ mouth, you– bastard–”

You had your arm interlinked with Joel’s, but he flung you off of him in an instant. He swung at Tommy, but his aim was a little diluted from the gin and Tommy ducked anyway. He only got one attempt in before five different people were pulling them away from each other to opposite ends of the bar.

You followed Joel, thanking the two men who were restraining him as he shouted strings of profanities and nobody, assuring them that you could take it from here.

“Joel, you gotta calm down. Hey. Hey, Miller, I’m fucking talking to you.” You grabbed his face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “Take a breath. Just take a breath.”

He did as he was told, but his eyes were still darting rapidly around the room. “Tommy…” he breathed out. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to, I swear. Did I hurt him? I hurt him, didn’t I?”

“No, baby. You– uh, you missed.”

“Ah, fuck.”

Maybe narcotics wouldn’t have fixed this, either.

Joel let you drag him back to your place without putting up much of a fight. Sarah. She would’ve been ashamed of him. There was a mounting list of things that Sarah would’ve hated him for, and this was just the icing on the cake.

Back on your couch, lying on his back, he wanted today to be over.

“I was s’pposed to be doin’ good for you,” he said quietly. “Bein’ better for you.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, your voice straining with the force it took to tug off his left boot.

“I’m no good for you.”

“Joel–”

“I ain’t, babydoll. I ain’t. Not for you, not for Ellie, not for Tommy, not for Tessa, and not for Sarah,” he mumbled. “It’s her birthday.”

“I know.”

“I miss her,” he swallowed. “Real bad.”

“I know, Joel.”

There was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest. Landslide was still stuck in his head.

… saw my reflection… snow covered hills …

He shut his eyes. “Is Ellie alright?”

“Mhm. She’s asleep down the street,” you said, tracing lazy shapes into his stomach.

“She’s a good kid,” he mumbled. “Tough kid.”

“She is,” you agreed. “She relies on you– cares about you. Lots of people care about you.”

… time makes y’bolder, children get… older …

Joel hummed in response. “I still need you.”

… I’m gettin’ older, too …

You bit your lip. You should really get back up, make sure Joel had a glass of water and painkillers near him for when he woke up. Maybe even a bowl from the kitchen. But your body felt like it was being weighed down by lead, and the infrequency at which you actually drank alcohol was making you unfathomably tired.

You laid down on top of him, head pressed against his chest. His breathing was slow and even and his heart rate was calm.

“I need you, too.”

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love-takes-work · 4 months

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Here we are in the future (merch) and it's WRONG

Hot Topic has been kinda killin' it with neat new designs on SU merch, which to me is pretty special considering how long the show has been off the air and how much I like to get new merch. :X However, the last time I was browsing their site, I decided against getting one of the designs because it's this:

Huh? "Ladies love a hero"? Where the heck did THAT come from?

It's certainly never said in the show, and it's not a sentiment that's presented by any characters, nor is it intended as a message by its creators. Not to mention that the Gems pictured technically aren't even "ladies." Who got the weird idea that "ladies love a hero" would be an appropriate thing to associate with Steven Universe?

I ended up buying a coffee mug with a bunch of SU artifacts and was dismayed to find the "ladies love a hero" phrase had somehow made it onto the otherwise canon-referential mug.

(The side I saw when I decided to get it was this:)

When it came in I showed it to my friend and asked him to find the thing on it that was "wrong." IMMEDIATELY he was like "Ladies love a hero? WHAT?"

Just kinda makes me think that instead of being designed by anyone with a passing familiarity with the show, it was thrown together by someone who thought it would look good. Who decided this?

But speaking of which, then today I saw this one:

Okay. So, seeing merch with random shit from the show splashed all over it is common with knockoffs and lazy ripoff artists, but seeing something like this in a mainstream store is puzzling. It's a somewhat confusing graphic with no message, but it's like . . .

Okay, Steven, Spinel, and Connie from the movie, versus. . . .

Amethyst with her Season 2 design, versus. . . .

Random image of Stevonnie from a single scene in a late Season 5 episode, versus. . . .

Random Greg, random Pink Diamond, versus. . . .

Garnet in what appears to be an attempt at her post-"Jailbreak"/pre-"Change Your Mind" outfit, but it's miscolored, and. . . .

Completely missing Pearl, one of the major main characters. Who puts Pink Diamond, Greg, Connie, Spinel, and Stevonnie on a shirt but forgets Pearl?

It's just kind of a mess, conceptually. A bunch of pretty pictures, several of which are stock art and a couple of which I've basically never seen on anything (so why these, why now?).

It's not uncommon for images featuring the four main characters to have character designs that couldn't have coexisted, but that doesn't bother me as much as something that just feels like it was an out-of-touch designer's google search result for Steven Universe characters.

Man, I need to be a merch consultant for this show or something. I am not much of an artist and am not a designer, but like . . . if they'd just asked ONE fan. . . .

#steven universe #su merch #steven universe merch #merch gone wrong #hot topic #myblog

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mccall-muffin · 2 months

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The Lady and the Major - Part 1/3 // John "Bucky" Egan x OC

Summary: Major Bucky Egan is on leave in London, and what else is there to do than to drink, sing, have a good time, and... of course, ladies. But then he meets Liz, a Lady of the Court, and Bucky is immediately entangled in her net.

Warnings: Language, teasing, use of alcohol - soldiers being soldiers

A/N: Okay, wow... I thought today: "Uh, I have an idea for a OneShot with Bucky Egan," and now I'm sitting here with a three-part story. Jeeeeeez... Uh, but what you gonna do. (I've only seen the first two Episodes of MotA as of now, but... I just love Callum)

Here is my Masterlist

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @mads-weasley, @brassknucklespeirs, @softguarnere

(Sorry mates, you just have to be tagged ;))

The Ritz, London, 1943

The opulent bar of the Ritz in London, brimming with the raucous laughter and chatter of soldiers on leave. The air is thick with smoke, jazz music fills the background, and the atmosphere is charged with the night's excitement.

Major John "Bucky" Egan, surrounded by a rowdy group of fellow American soldiers, is the life of the party. His laughter is loudest, his stories the most captivating, and his gaze roams freely, appreciative of the scenery—particularly the women who add a touch of glamour to the smoky room.

Bucky, with a glass of whiskey in hand, leans back, surveying the room with a smug grin. "Gentlemen," he boasts, "London's no match for a Yank with charm. Watch and learn."

His eyes, however, catch a sight that stops him mid-sentence—a vision of elegance seated across the bar. Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, unbeknownst to him, sits alone, her posture the epitome of grace, a long, slender cigarette holder elegantly poised in her hand. The soft glow of the bar lights catches her blonde hair and the sparkle in her blue eyes, making her seem almost ethereal.

Bucky's usual confidence wavers for a moment, his friends noticing the sudden change. "Well, I'll be damned... Who's that?" Bucky mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

One of the British soldiers, a man who has seen his fair share of high society, leans over, a knowing look in his eyes. "That, Yank, is Lady Elizabeth Cavendish. The Duke of Wellington's daughter. I'd tread carefully if I were you. She's out of your league."

Bucky's grin returns, cockier than before. "Out of my league? Buddy, there's no league I can't play in. Watch me."

With a swagger in his step, Bucky makes his way over to Elizabeth, his comrades watching eagerly, some with admiration, others with skepticism, and some with knowing faces.

"Evening, miss. Can I say you light up this room brighter than the London Blitz," he says cockily, letting his charm play.

Elizabeth doesn't even glance up from her drink at first, taking a slow drag from her cigarette. When she finally turns her gaze towards him, it's with an air of amusement. "And can I say that's the most American pickup line I've ever heard?"

Bucky, undeterred, flashes a grin. "Major John Egan, at your service. But for you... You can call me Bucky. And you are?"

Elizabeth finally offers him a small, knowing smile. "Elizabeth Cavendish. And I'm quite aware of who you are, Major Egan. Your reputation precedes you."

Bucky, leaning against the bar closer to Liz, his confidence seemingly unshaken. "Is that so? And what have you heard?"

Liz, taking another slow drag from her cigarette, eyes Bucky with a mixture of interest and challenge. "Oh, just that you're quite the charmer. A real ladies' man. Or so you believe."

The air between them crackles with a mix of tension and intrigue. Bucky, for once, finds himself having to work to maintain his usual smug demeanor. "And what about you, Lady Elizabeth? Do you enjoy games?"

Liz's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, Major, I don't just enjoy them. I excel at them. Care to play?"

The challenge hangs in the air, a silent dare that Bucky, despite the warnings and his better judgment, finds himself unable to resist. "You're on. Let the games begin."

As Bucky signals the bartender for another round of drinks, his fellow soldiers exchange glances, some shaking their heads, others betting amongst themselves on the outcome. What none of them realize is that in the game of seduction and wit, Liz is a master strategist, and Bucky might have just met his match.

Bucky leans closer, his confidence unwavering. "So, Liz, you don't mind me calling you Liz, right?" he starts, the smug smile never leaving his face, "I've flown some of the most dangerous missions over Germany, you know. But I must say, navigating this conversation with you feels like my most thrilling challenge yet."

Liz lets out a soft, amused laugh. "Major Egan, I've met many men who believe their war stories could sweep a girl off her feet. And maybe it actually does some. But it's going to take more than tales of aerial feats to impress me," she replies, her voice laced with a teasing sarcasm that only someone of her breeding and wit could perfect.

The night progresses, and with each drink, Bucky becomes more audacious, his hand finding its way to the small of Liz's back, a bold move that, in any other circumstance, would have guaranteed success. Liz, however, is not any woman he's encountered before. She plays along, leaning in as if captivated by his charm, her lips tantalizingly close to his, only to pull away at the last moment, leaving him wanting more.

Their conversation ebbs and flows, with Bucky regaling her with his exploits, each tale more daring than the last. Yet, Liz remains unimpressed, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement rather than awe. It's a dance they're both familiar with, but in this instance, Liz leads, her every move calculated to keep him on his toes.

As the night wears on, Liz finishes her drink, placing the glass delicately on the bar. She rises from her stool, the movement graceful and deliberate. "Well, Major, it has been... interesting," she says, her tone implying a myriad of things left unsaid.

Bucky, taken aback by her sudden desire to leave, scrambles to his feet. "Wait, Liz, why don't you stay for another drink? The night is still young, and I feel we've barely scratched the surface."

Liz turns to him, a sly smile playing on her lips. "I'm afraid I have other engagements to attend to, Major. But I must thank you for the entertainment," she teases, her gaze piercing through him with a challenge that silently says she's not one to be easily conquered.

As she walks away, Bucky watches, a mix of frustration and fascination written across his face. For the first time, he's encountered a woman who not only matches his wit but exceeds it, leaving him in uncharted territory. Liz, with her aristocratic poise and undeniable charm, has turned the tables on him, making it clear that if he wishes to pursue her, he's in for a game unlike any he's played before.

Returning to his comrades, Bucky's expression is a mix of irritation and resolve, a stark contrast to the confident swagger he had before approaching Liz. The British soldiers, having observed the entire exchange, can't help but wear smirks of "told you so" on their faces.

"Well, Major, looks like the ice queen has claimed another victim," one of the Brits comments, clapping Bucky on the shoulder with a laugh that's both sympathetic and mocking.

Bucky, undeterred, shoots back, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

Another British soldier chimes in, swirling his drink, "Mate, many have tried to climb that mountain. From viscounts to earls, not a single one has reached the summit. Lady Cavendish is... well, she's a fortress."

"Yeah, heard she loves to make sport of men, seeing who can try and fail the most spectacularly," adds a third, his tone laced with a mix of admiration and warning.

One of Bucky's American friends, attempting to find a solution, suggests, "Did you pull the pilot card? Chicks love pilots." The suggestion hangs in the air until another British soldier, who had been quietly listening, interjects, "Her brother's Captain Edward Cavendish, Royal Air Force war hero. Your pilot card might as well be a library card."

The revelation doesn't dampen Bucky's spirits; if anything, it fuels his determination. His jaw sets firmly, the challenge now more personal than ever. "So, she's used to high-flyers, huh? Well, she hasn't met anyone like me. I'm not just any pilot; I'm Major Bucky Egan. And I don't give up that easily."

The group looks at him, a mix of skepticism and intrigue in their eyes. They know Bucky for his tenacity, his charm, and his unwillingness to back down from a challenge. But Lady Elizabeth Cavendish is not just any challenge—she's a high-stakes game that many have lost.

As the night winds down and the group disperses, Bucky's mind races with plans. He knows winning over someone like Lady Cavendish won't be easy, but he's always loved a challenge. The thought of her, with her piercing blue eyes and that untouchable aura, only makes him more determined. He's ready to prove that he's not like the others, that he's someone who stands out, even in a crowd of heroes.

The stage is set for a captivating game of wit, charm, and strategy. Bucky's resolve and Liz's cunning promise a tale of intrigue, where each move could either draw them closer or push them further apart.

In the soft morning light filtering through the hotel's dining room windows, Bucky and his fellow soldiers are halfway through their breakfast, the air filled with the light-hearted banter typical of men who've faced much together. The sudden approach of a concierge, bearing the unmistakable posture of formal importance, silences the table. With a discreet cough to announce his presence, the concierge presents a silver platter to Bucky.

Bucky, eyebrows raised in surprise, picks up the envelope resting on the platter. The envelope itself is a work of art, the calligraphy on the front flawlessly executed, hinting at the significance of its contents. His name, "Major John Egan, US Air Force," is inscribed with elegant flourishes that speak of a bygone era of meticulous attention to detail.

As he carefully opens the envelope, the anticipation among his comrades is palpable. They watch as Bucky's initial confusion shifts to an understanding smile, a silent acknowledgment of the ongoing saga that had captivated them since last night. He pulls out the invitation, and it reads:

Major John Egan,

It is with great pleasure that Arthur Cavendish, Duke of Wellington, and Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Wellington, extend to you an invitation to a gala being held at our family estate, Wellington House, on the evening of this day.

This event will assemble distinguished individuals from various sectors of British and Allied societies in a celebration of unity and resilience in these challenging times.

Date: This evening at 7 o'clock post meridiem

Dress Code: Formal (Black Tie)

Location: Wellington House, Kent

We anticipate the honor of your presence and look forward to an evening of meaningful exchanges and spirited fellowship.

Kindly present this invitation at the entrance.

Sincerely, The Duke of Wellington

Bucky's grin now spread wide across his face, confirms the unspoken thoughts of his table. "Looks like I've got plans this evening," he announces, his voice a mix of amusement and intrigue.

The soldiers around him, well aware of the story behind the invitation, erupt into a mix of cheers and playful jeers. Bucky's encounter with Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, a tale that had quickly become legendary among them, was evidently far from over. This invitation was not just a call to a social event; it was the next chapter in a story that promised to be as unpredictable as it was entertaining.

As the concierge departs, Bucky's mind races with possibilities. The gala at Wellington House was not just an opportunity to step into the world of British aristocracy; it was a chance to see Liz again, to engage in their game of wits and charm. With a sense of adventure stirring in his heart, he knew one thing for sure: the evening promised to be unforgettable.

House Wellington, Kent, 1943

As Bucky steps into the grandeur of the Wellington estate, the opulence of the gala immediately envelops him. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfumes mingling with the faint aroma of quality tobacco. The chatter of the high society fills the room, a mixture of refined British accents and the occasional foreign dialect. Bucky, in his crisply pressed formal uniform, stands out—not just for his attire but also for the aura of confidence he carries with him, an unmistakable mark of a man not easily intimidated.

He navigates through the crowd, champagne flute in hand, his eyes scanning the room until they find what they've been searching for: Liz. She's a vision in her gown, embodying the grace and elegance of her status, yet with a glimmer in her eye that hints at her spirited nature. As he approaches, he can't help but admire the way she holds herself, the center of attention yet seemingly uninterested in the adoration she commands.

"Seems like I can't go anywhere without you showing up to steal the spotlight," Bucky teases, offering her a playful smirk as he closes the distance between them.

Liz turns to face him fully, her expression one of amused defiance. "Oh, Major Egan, I was under the impression that an officer of your caliber would know how to read a simple dress code," she retorts, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she gives him a once-over. "But I suppose we can't all have the luxury of choice in our evening attire, can we?"

Bucky chuckles, unphased by her jab. "Well, Lady Cavendish, it seems I'm at a disadvantage here. While you dazzle the room in that stunning dress, I'm stuck in this old thing," he says, gesturing to his uniform with a mock sigh. "But let's be honest, we both know I could show up in a burlap sack, and you'd still find it hard to keep your eyes off me."

The air between them crackles with the tension of their banter, a dance they've both come to enjoy. Liz takes a slow drag from her cigarette, held elegantly in a long holder. "Confident, aren't we? Just don't let that confidence get you into trouble, Major. This isn't the front line, and the battles here are fought differently," she says, blowing out a stream of smoke, her gaze locked with his.

"Then consider me armed and dangerous," Bucky replies with a grin, his eyes never leaving hers. "But I'll admit, this is one battlefield I'm looking forward to navigating, especially if it means crossing swords with you, Lady Cavendish."

Their exchange, filled with the playful yet pointed jabs of two individuals equally matched in intellect and charm, sets the tone for the evening. Around them, the gala continues in its whirl of music, laughter, and conversation, but for Bucky and Liz, the rest of the world fades into the background. They are each other's focal point, engaged in a game where the stakes are undefined but unmistakably high, each moment building on the tension and attraction that simmers just below the surface.

As Bucky and Liz continue their verbal dance, the arrival of a British Captain momentarily shifts the atmosphere. The Captain's demeanor is one of polite curiosity mixed with the protective scrutiny of a brother. When he inquires about Bucky, there's a brief tension, a moment where the social games of the evening meet the reality of wartime alliances and personal connections.

Bucky, with the straightforwardness that military life has ingrained in him, extends a hand. "Major John Egan, US Air Force," he introduces himself with a respectful nod, recognizing the familial resemblance in the Captain's features.

Edward's expression warms slightly at the mention of Bucky's service. "Ah, a fellow pilot then. And where might you be stationed, Major Egan?" he asks, a hint of camaraderie entering his voice upon learning of their shared skies.

"With the 100th Bomber Group," Bucky responds, his answer earning a nod of respect from Edward. The reputation of Bucky's outfit precedes him, known even among the British ranks for their bravery and contributions to the war effort.

The conversation takes a turn when Edward's attention shifts towards his sister, curiosity piqued. "And how did you two come to meet?" he inquires, his gaze bouncing between Liz and Bucky, searching for a glimpse into his sister's enigmatic social life.

Bucky opens his mouth to answer, perhaps a little too eagerly, ready to dive into the tale of their first encounter. However, Liz, ever the master of her own narrative, interjects with a grace that belies the quick thinking behind her words. "We met at a charity event just last week," she states, her voice carrying a tone of casual innocence. "Major Egan was kind enough to share some fascinating insights into his experiences in the war so far. It's not every day we have the honor of hearing such stories firsthand."

Edward's expression softens, a mix of brotherly concern and pride evident in his gaze as he looks at Liz. It's clear he's unaware of the full extent of his sister's adventurous spirit and her propensity for finding herself in the company of intriguing characters. "Well, I'm glad to hear our allies are not just brave but also charitable. It's important, especially in times like these, to remember what we're fighting for," he comments, directing a respectful nod towards Bucky.

The moment passes, and Edward excuses himself to greet other guests, leaving Bucky and Liz alone once again. Bucky raises an eyebrow at Liz, impressed by her quick thinking and ability to weave a story that protects her reputation while not entirely dismissing their actual encounter. "A charity event, huh? You're quite the storyteller, Lady Cavendish," he teases, the corners of his mouth turning up in an amused smile.

Liz, taking a delicate sip of her champagne, meets his gaze with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "One must always be prepared to tell the story that needs to be heard, Major Egan. Besides, I couldn't possibly let you ruin all my fun with the truth, now could I?" she replies, her tone playful yet laced with the underlying thrill of their shared secret.

Their exchange, now even more charged with the thrill of their clandestine understanding, continues to weave a complex tapestry of attraction and intrigue, each moment adding to the layers of their unfolding story.

Next Part

#Masters of the Air #MoaT #John Egan x OC #Bucky Egan x OC #John Egan x reader #Bucky Egan x reader #John Bucky Egan #BoB #Callum Turner #Sorry not sorry

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Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.2 K Warnings: none Prompt: You're finally settling down at Hogwarts, friendships strengthen and crushes blossom, sometimes on the most unexpected places. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 6: “Crazy little Thing Called Love”

You rose, scanning your surroundings, the inky dark made it hard for you to see anything. It took a whole minute for your eyes to adjust. You saw trees all around you, as you took a single step forward, an unsettling crack echoed beneath your heel. You looked down only to realise it was the bone of a very small animal, a fox perhaps. You shivered at the thought.

Another step and a haunting howl sliced through the air, piercing your ears. Its resonance was powerful, sharp, and it reverberated deep within you, whatever monster was making that sound, it was close.

You tried to find a hiding spot but it was futile, whatever that monster was, it had already caught your scent, its primal instincts honed in on you, and you could hear it getting closer and closer. And then, it was there, right in front of you, its predatory gaze calculating which part of you it would feast on first.

“H-Hey, It’s ok, it’s me,” you stammered, a desperate attempt to reason with it, which, in all honesty, made no sense, still you clung to the idea that perhaps that would appease the beast.

Bad idea, it didn’t. It just growled back and lunged at you. You crashed back on the ground, next to the rest of the bones you had unwittingly shattered moments ago. It had a choking hold on you, robbing your breath. You heard another growl, coming from a different place when your vision started to fog, you felt like you were going to die.

“Wake up!” You heard, and suddenly opened your eyes, trying to fight the creature still, but Lily was there instead of the monster. “It’s ok,” She told you, placing her hands over your forearms that sought desperately to defend you still, “it was only a dream luv.”

You finally took a deep breath, grounding yourself. Of course, it was only a dream. Hogwarts didn’t have those kinds of monsters. You took a deep breath and looked at Lily “Did I wake you?”

She shook her head “I woke up to go to the restroom. I noticed you were struggling in bed, that’s why I came to wake you.”

You gently placed your hand over her forearm, using her to reassure yourself, she was indeed real. Eventually you smiled at her “Thank you,” you said in all honesty “I’m truly grateful I met someone like you here.”

She smiled back at you “No problem, I’m here for you, for anything, all right?” You nodded in response. “Want me to stay with you for a little while?”

You shook your head “It’s all right, I’m a lot calmer now, thanks to you. You can go back to sleep, I wouldn’t want to be the reason dear Miss Evans is sleepy in the morning.”

She laughed at that and nodded, reluctantly leaving you, as if she wasn’t sure if you were actually better or just telling her to go as if not to be a bother, which to her, you weren’t at all.

Once you were alone again you continued to take deep breaths. Nightmares were not something you had all that often, you didn’t quite know how to deal with them, so you stared at the ceiling until you finally managed to fall back asleep.

You woke up earlier than everyone again and went down to the common room with flying gear. James arrived sometime later, and Sirius minutes afterwards, complaining “It’s raining Prongs, can’t we just sleep in instead?”

James gave Sirius a stern look in response “You’re coming today too!” He acknowledged with a smile once he noticed you were there.

“Well I’m not getting any special treatment even if I know the Captain of the Quidditch team so I’ve got to be in top shape for the tryouts,” you replied with a smug smile.

He smiled back, clearly amused by your answer “All right, let’s go then. We’re doing evasion today.”

The three of you went out and did some laps around the castle. This time James had taken out a blodger and you were beating it back and forth. Once you were done you went back to the common room and changed into your uniform. Your hair was still wet when you arrived at your first class.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Horace Slughorn, I’ll be your potions teacher, please grab a piece of paper from the hat,” he said as he passed a small wizard hat turned upside down for everyone to grab a paper. Once you opened yours you saw Lily’s name appeared on it.

James, who stood right behind you leaned over your shoulder and walked to face you, leaning over to whisper “Switch with me, will you?”

You frowned and looked up at him, he had this hopeful puppy-eyed look going on, it made you gasp in surprise “You like Evans!” You teased, in a whisper too.

He looked to the side but then nodded, looking back at you with the same golden retriever look “Pretty please?”

You thought about it for a moment and leaned over to check on his paper “Who’d you get?”

“Moony,” he responded.

“He any good at potions?”

“Brilliant!” James affirmed.

You took a deep breath and handed the paper to James, “Go get her tiger!” You told him with a smile as he approached Lily. To be fair, you totally understood why someone would have a crush on Lily, in fact, it was more surprising that you hadn’t heard of anyone else being hung up on her.

There was a knock on the door, Slughorn opened the door to find a slimy-haired boy, looking like a very pissed wet rat, and allowed him to walk inside the classroom “Ah, Severus, did you get stuck in the rain?”

The boy -Severus, took a spiteful glance towards the boys and turned back to Slughorn, taking a deep breath “Something like that.”

James gave Sirius a look and a complicitous smile. You noticed Remus rolled his eyes, while Lily looked stoic, as if she was trying to hide her feelings. They clearly had some history going on.

Slughorn handed the hat to him and he picked a piece of paper, once he opened it he rolled his eyes. “Professor, can I switch…?” Slughorn shook his head.

Sirius jumped from his seat once he realised what his paper said “I’m sure we can find someone willing to–” he argued.

“–Your partners are set, and they won’t change, there was a spell on the papers,” the professor explained. James gave you a worried look but you shook your head lightly, using a changing spell to switch the names on Lily and Remus’ papers.

The greasy-haired boy took a deep breath and went to sit down at the front, Sirius followed and sat next to him, turning his back to him and rolling his eyes; so that’s why he wanted to switch, he’d been paired with the boy, you thought.

“Excellent, please, the rest of you, take your seats.”

Remus approached you then, asking if you wanted to sit in the front, you nodded in response. And the two of you walked towards a table.

“This month, we shall embark on the fascinating journey of brewing the illustrious Polyjuice Potion. Now, let me be clear—this concoction is no ordinary brew. It demands your unwavering attention, precision, and an ample dose of patience. I must confess, not everyone will master it effortlessly on their initial attempts. However, mark my words, the fundamentals are crucial for you to grasp, for who knows when fate may call upon you to employ this transformative elixir in the days to come. So, prepare yourselves, my aspiring potion-makers, for the intricate art of Polyjuice Potion awaits!”

You nodded and pulled out your book, finding the list of ingredients you would need. “It’s a complicated one,” You said, reading through the steps.

Remus nodded and winced when he started reading some of the requirements of the ingredients, “Profesor,” he said, racing his hand “Will you provide the fluxweed or…?”

"Ah, Mr. Lupin, splendid question indeed!" Said Slughorn, whose voice carried an air of geniality and indulgence. "You have touched upon a key facet of the potion we are about to undertake—the vexing nature of ingredient collection. Specifically, the delicate task of harvesting fluxweed and capturing the elusive lacewing flies. Now, my dear students, I'm afraid I cannot simply hand you these crucial components on a silver platter. Oh no! You see, the true essence of potion-making lies in experiencing the genuine challenges it presents. Therefore, I implore each of you to venture forth and procure these ingredients yourselves, immersing yourselves in the intricacies and complications inherent in brewing a potion of such calibre. May the journey to acquire them serve as a valuable lesson in the art of potion-making!"

Remus nodded in response “Of course it wouldn’t be so easy,” he mumbled and turned towards you “Wanna split?”

You nodded “You could get the fluxweed and I could capture the lacewing flies? We also need Knotgrass and shredded boomslang skin, perhaps we can get the latter with the Care of Magical Creatures teacher?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “All thought, how about you do the fluxweed and I do Lacewing flies?” He asked, “I’m really good at catching stuff.”

You agreed “I can go with Lily next full moon,” you said with a smile “We have Care of Magical Creatures later today, right? We could ask the teacher then?”

A small Slytherin boy raised his hand from the back of the classroom “Professor, must we also dry and powder the leeches?” He asked with an air of disgust in his voice.

“Well, of course, Mr. Stradleter.”

“Of course, because I definitely can’t order them from an ingredients store,” You mumbled rolling your eyes, Remus chuckled lightly.

“In fact, you have stumbled upon the very essence of our lesson today. Step one, my dear students, involves a fascinating encounter with these lively leeches." He paused, his eyes twinkling with anticipation as he pulled a jar from his desk. The Slytherin boy held his breath at that point, staring at the leeches horrified. "Worry not, my young potion-makers, for we shall handle them with care and precision.”

“Oh, this is definitely going to go bad somehow,” Said Remus, biting his lip to avoid smiling too wide as he looked around to the rest of the tables with students looking like they wanted to run away.

“10 sickles someone ends up with at least 10 leeches stuck to their skin.”

Remus turned to you with raised eyebrows and a little smile. “Deal.” He said and the two of you shook hands.

Later on in the class, Peter who was sitting next to a Slytherin girl and was right behind Sirius and Severus, realised slimy-old Snape had pulled his hair up to focus on the leeches when drying them and had taken the opportunity to carefully levitate some of his own leeches towards Severus’ neck. Unwittingly causing you to win the bet against Remus. Once the class was over, poor Severus had over 20 leeches all over his neck and back.

“Sirius bloody BLACK! What the hell have you done?” He roared when he realised he had leeches on his neck.

Sirius raised his hands with an innocent look on his face “I’ve been working with you all class, not that I like it, but I’ve done nothing to you.”

“Professor!” Severus whined.

“I’ve been closely monitoring your progress,” Slughorn said “Mr. Black has been dutifully working on the drying process alongside you.”

Severus rolled his eyes, clearly feeling victimised. “You’re meant to be on my side!” He argued and Slughorn gave him a stern look.

Peter held back a laugh from behind. James instantly knew who it had been.

“Come here, Severus,” Slughorn waved for the boy to follow. He pulled the collar from Severus' shirt and winced when he noticed the state of his back. Snape ended up having to go to Madam Pomffrey.

Once the class was over James caught up with Peter and Sirius as they walked towards their next class “That was brilliant Wormy!” He said with a smile.

“I just saw the opportunity and took it,” he said with a small proud smile.

Sirius spoke then “That twit couldn’t even place the blame on me,” he said as he placed a satisfied arm over Peter.

“Yeah, and you lost me 10 sickles,” complained Remus as he caught up to them.

“Yeah, thank you, Peter,” You said with a smile as you walked past them toward Marlene.

“You made a bet? With (Y/N)?” James asked Remus, raising his eyebrows, who just shrugged in response.

Once you reached Marlene you went straight to the point “Why do they dislike Severus so much?” You asked her.

“He used to be Lily’s friend. But then he called her a slur,” Marlene explained.

Mary, who was walking beside you whispered “She called her a mud-blood.”

You gave her an incredulous look “He called her that?” Marlene nodded, you exhaled with indignation, “He deserves a lot more leechers then.”

Your next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts. A tall, elegant-looking lady in her forties, who you recognized as the head of Hufflepuff, Seraphina Nightshade, was your teacher. She moved with the regalness of a ballerina around the room. In the class, she went through the basics of some strong defensive spells, left an investigation assignment and invited the students to join the Dueling club that would start next week, after classes.

You toyed with the idea in your head. Duelling was fun in your older School, you didn’t exactly know how good the students would be at Hogwarts but you pride yourself on having sharp reflexes. When Defense Against the Dark Arts was over, you all walked towards the Great Hall, at that point Mary asked Marlene to go get something from the room with her and the two diverted from the group.

“So… What are we going to do for Marlene’s birthday?” Beth asked standing in front of you, Lily and the boys.

“Oh, it’s her birthday soon?” You asked.

“September 10th, that’s… next, next Friday” Peter replied “I’m planning to get her a cake, I’ve already talked to the kitchen elves about it and everything.”

“And we’re getting some firewisky,” said Sirius pointing at James and back at himself.

“Last time you got firewisky–“ Lily started, but was interrupted by James, who placed an arm over her shoulder.

“–That wasn’t our fault,” he said defensively “That Ackley boy got us some weird stuff he was brewing in his room.”

“Yeah, and everyone was burping out purple bubbles for a week!”

Beth laughed, “Yeah, that was epic.”

Lily shot her a glance, and she shrugged in response “Ackley’s illegal brewery almost got discovered!”

“Don’t be such a wuss, Evans!” Said Sirius “We got a different dealer this time. They’re buying it at the Three Broomsticks.”

“Who? Is it someone from seventh?”

“We can’t tell you, it’s top secret,” Said Remus, who was walking beside you, “Wanna help me with the decorations? We’re gonna do over the common room.” You nodded.

“Gryffindor parties are THE parties of the school.” Said Peter, “Totally exclusive, you can only come if a Gryffindor invites you directly.”

“Then it’s settled!” Said Beth “I can tag along Remus and (Y/N) for decorations, if that’s all right?”

You both nodded, then Lily spoke “I’ll see over the snacks with Mary, then.”

“Ohh, hold up!” Said Beth “Someone needs to invite Holden Crawford.”

“The Ravenclaw seeker? Whatever for?” Asked Sirius.

“It’s Marlene’s crush,” admitted Lily.

“Oh,” Responded Sirius with an insinuating face “Want us to slip some amorentia in his drink that day too?”

“Of course not Sirius! You especially know how bad those kinds of potions can hit.”

“Does he now?” You teased “Sounds like a story I wanna hear.”

“You won’t,” responded Sirius sternly.

At the same time, James leaned down towards you and whispered over your ear “I’ll tell you all about it.”

“So… Holden Crawford?” Beth insisted, bringing everyone back to the topic at hand.

“I don’t know him,” shrugged James.

“Me neither,” responded Sirius.

“I know he’s chummy with Alexander Wood,” Said Peter “They got paired up in potions first year and became really good friends, even if they’re different houses.”

“Alex, the Hufflepuff Head Boy, Alex?” You asked. Peter nodded. “Oh, I’ll invite them.” You said matter of factly. Everyone turned towards you. They were all thinking the same, how the hell had you met Alexander Wood? “He brought me here on my first day,” you explained, “took me to Dumbledore’s office to get sorted.”

“Aaaah,” said Peter as he nodded.

“Fantastic,” said Beth excitedly “Godric Heavens, (Y/N) the brave got sent to us!”

“(Y/N) the brave?” Asked Sirius incredulous.

“Oh, Puppy… You don’t want me to talk about the zip lines, do you?” You teased. He instantly tensed up, the boys did too, but you didn’t notice.

“P-puppy?” Peter stammered.

“I gave him that nickname back on our trip, he insisted a tiger would win over a lion.”

The boys weren’t sure how that related to Sirius being called Puppy but they relaxed when they realised it didn’t have anything to do with their secret. “Good thing we already had nicknames when you arrived,” said James as playfully nudged you with his shoulder. You laughed.

“Don’t know about that,” said Beth “I’d rather be Puppy than Wormtail.”

“Oi!” Complained Peter “Wormtail’s a fine nickname, thank you very much.” By then you had already arrived at the Great Hall, Marlene and Mary joining you shortly after.

For dinner, there was Roast Beef, Shepards Pie, Bangers and Mash and these absolutely killer Buttered New Potatoes. They were so good you’d served yourself twice. Once you were done you started feeling drowsy, it often happened to you when you overate, so you gently let your head fall over Sirius’ shoulder, who was sitting beside you.

“You okay?” He asked, turning his head towards you lightly, trying not to move you as much.

You nodded, still on his shoulder “I ate too much,” you complained, then took in a deep breath “and we still have another class…”

“I can carry you there,” he offered.

You turned to him with a frown “And risk me puking on you?”

He shrugged, “If it’ll make you feel better.” You chuckled lightly, sometimes you really didn’t understand Sirius. Some days he was at your throat trying to win you on whatever game you made up on flying practice, and then he’d come out and say things like that.

You stared at his pretty face for a minute before shaking your head and going back to lay on his shoulder, “It’s alright Puppy, I’m sure it’ll go away on the way there.”

He didn’t even seem to mind you calling him puppy all that much either, in that particular moment. You might have fallen asleep on Sirius’ shoulder, since next thing you knew, Lily was shaking you lightly and telling you it was time for your next class.

The teacher of Care for Magical Creatures, Silvanus Kettleburn, was quite a character, to say the least, he had white hair, styled in a very rockstar kind of way, a metal claw for a hand and a white bandage covering one of his eyes. If Remus looked like a sexy novel Pirate, Kettleburn looked like the villain pirate the main character was forced to get married to before Remus came to rescue her. The funniest thing about the man was this extremely high-pitched voice with which he introduced himself, totally contrasting with his gruff pirate vibe and attitude. He said something about trying out a new draught that had made his voice squeaky, but it still took a whole lot of energy to keep your face straight when he spoke.

He said this month you’d be taking care of fireworms, and explained that they should be taken care of with extreme precautions since they could easily explode if not being cared for properly, if they saw the moon, or simply if they felt threatened by whoever was caring for them. He mentioned they would start small but they could grow up to 10 feet tall, and that they were the cause of many monsters and horror stories the muggles told to their children. He handed every single one of you a small box, of about 3 inches, with a worm in it, explaining how you’d have to get the worm used to you before transferring it to a bigger box, once it was large enough. “You must be very careful, and you must not forget to feed them, or they might explode too.”

You took in a sharp breath, looking down at the little box, how could such a small creature be so dangerous?, You wondered as you carefully set him to the side, as if not to disturb him much. During the the class you learned that your fireworm wasn’t actually a he, but a she, and after getting some encouragement from Kettlebrun, you ended up naming her Pyro Princess. Neatly writing the name on a label that the professor had handed over. In the middle of the class, you heard a small explosion, it came from a tall Slytherin boy that stood beside Severus, who quickly performed agumenti to turn off the fire.

“Excellent problem-solving skills Mr. Snape,” Kettleburn said with his squeaky voice “10 points for Slytherin.”

“But it was Rosier who caused the explosion,” Tom complained, “That should definitely take some points from them, right?”

Beth gave him a thumbs up while Kettleburn gave it a thought “You are indeed right Mr, Harrow, Evan Rosier will get a 5 points penalty for his aggravation.” Snape rolled his eyes and placed his own label on top of his worm while the professor handed a new worm to Evan.

“Whoever has the largest worm by the end of the course, will get an automatic A,” he said before he dismissed everyone and their worms.

At that point Lily approached you, “Today’s the first reunion of the study club, we’ll be working on some homework together if you wanna join,” said Lily.

You nodded in response, “I’ll just take this little girl to a safe place and see you there, yeah?”

You parted ways with Lily once you were back inside the castle. From what Kettelebrun had explained, fireworms liked peaceful environments, and while your dorm was peaceful enough, you really did not want to burn the Gryffindor tower down because of a mishap, so you decided that the safest way to keep her was somewhere in the passageways Remus had taken you to on the first day. Once you were inside you saw another light further in the passage. Turning yours off and walking behind it quietly.

“Anyone there?” You heard a very familiar voice.

“Remus?” You asked him, turning the light of your wand back on.

“(Y/N)? What on earth are you doing here? it’s a whole labyrinth inside these tunnels, you could’ve gotten lost without a guide.”

“I’m rather good with mazes,” you said with a smile “but uh… I’m here because I wanted to find a good hiding spot for Pyro Princess.”

“You mean, your fireworm?” He asked with his eyebrows raised “You called it, Pyro Princess?!”

“Well, It’s a fireworm! What did you call yours?”

“I called him Number 1.”

“Number one? And you’re making fun of Pyro Princess?”

He gave you a stern look “I didn’t wanna get attached to it, in case it blew up.”

“Now, that’s just setting yourself up for failure. But fret not, I’m sure if we team up we can keep both Pyro and Nummie alive.”

“Nummie? Now you gave it a cutesy name too.”

“It’s just short for Number 1,” you exclaimed “So, Mr. Guide, please take us to a safe, non often used area.”

“Fine, follow me,” he said and the two of you walked through the tunnels until you found a decent hole in the wall to place the two worms. You performed a small protection charm on top of them and Remus added a small light orb on top of them to give them some light. “They’ll be alright, yeah?” He asked, to which you nodded.

“I’m thinking of brewing some calming draught, to add a few drops to their water, so that way they won’t get so anxious.”

“Oh, I’ve got some,” he said, pulling a bottle from his pocket. You frowned but decided not to question it as he placed a couple of drops on their water source. Who knows maybe Remus was a naturally anxious guy and he needed it, or maybe he was just gonna use it for a prank.

When the two of you were down with the little home area you’d created for your worms, you walked together towards the library. Lily was already sitting on a round table, Beth was by her right, and a smaller blonde girl by her left. As soon as she saw the two of you she smiled and waved “You made it.”

“Bumped into Remus on the way too.” You told her as you sat in front of her, next to Tom. Remus sat in between you and the blonde girl, who you later learned was Nina Blythe, a Ravenclaw a year younger who always joined the study group, to learn about more advanced stuff. On a table beside you were several kids from even lower years who would often stand up to ask Lily and Remus for advice or help with their classes.

You pulled out some parchment and decided to start working on your runes essay for Divination since it was the thing that would require the least effort. You’d kept your runes on a little felt bag and took them out to start writing about it; you knew most things from the top of your head. Once you were done you started working on your DADA assignment. Standing up to pull some books from the library about defensive spells you’d need. Once you returned to your spot you noticed Beth was desperately looking through a book.

“All good?” You asked her, trying to be nice.

She shook her head “I just can’t find this fucking rune anywhere.”

“Language Beth!” Lily complained, “There are children around.”

“I’m so gonna fail…”

“May I?” You asked as you extended your hand, she placed the rune on it and you brought it back to give it a closer look. “Ah... It’s Hagalaz!” you explained “It’s hard to find it because in this set it looks a lot more like an N than an H, but it’s this one,” you pointed at one of the runes in a book she had discarded earlier “It means Hail… So basically it comes from a natural disaster, em… it means that… an unavoidable change that is out of your hands will be presented to you. How destructive it might be, depends on how capable you are of weathering its storm. Kinda like The Tower in Tarot,” you finally gave the little stone back to Beth.

Everyone at the table now turned to look at you, with an air of surprise in their faces “Thought you said you weren’t good with divination,” said Tom.

“I just…” you sighed, “I don’t want to be another divination teacher’s pet.” You responded “And I’d already seen runes a couple of years ago.”

Remus gave you a rather apprehensive look while Tom handed over another rune for you to check. Eventually, you helped everyone with the divination homework, since the set of runes Professor Spellman had handed over to revise had weird shapes on most of the little stones.

The little Ravenclaw girl next to Remus seemed disinterested in the divination stuff and just stared at her spellbook, drawing little stars and hearts over the edges. When you sat back down in your chair, you realised that in fact, she hadn’t done any work at all so far, she had her spell book and a parchment out, but it was pretty empty, and she just scribbled some random notes every now and then. You wondered why she was in a study group if she didn’t have any homework to do when you noticed her giving Remus a quick glance, before going straight back to her book. You leaned back in your chair, lousily grabbing your charms book and started “reading” while you continued to analyse her behaviour.

She would read her book, the same page she’d been on since the beginning of study group, an hour ago. Then she would scribble something illegible on her parchment, and then she’d give Remus, who was completely oblivious a quick glance. She’d play with her hair, and then go back to drawing on the edge of her book, ready to repeat the process all over again. You were almost completely certain she was madly involved with Remus, but you had to confirm your theory.

So you cut out a small piece of parchment and wrote: “follow my lead” and passed the note over to Lily from under the table. She gave you a confused glance but nodded.

“Hey Rem,” You called quietly so as not to disturb the rest, he turned to you, raising an eyebrow at the nickname “Would you mind helping me with this assignment on potions?” You asked politely, pointing at a specific one in your book “I’m not sure I know exactly how to explain this particular step, with different words.”

“Ugh…. Maybe you could use crushing?”

“Yeah, I thought about it too, but I’m not sure crushing works, since it’s more like really, really fine pieces.”

Yeah, it was a tricky question, all right? But you had to make it sound believable.

“Do you think Lily would know?” You asked.

He thought about it for a second and nodded, he then leaned towards the Ravenclaw girl “Hey Nina,” he said politely, and she turned to him, almost shocked he was talking to her “Would you mind switching with Lily for a minute?” He asked with a smile. She seemed taken aback but nodded. Standing up to switch with your redheaded friend.

You leaned closer to Remus then, almost crossing past him to talk to Lily, who seemed puzzled. You were never so much in other people’s personal space, not that Remus was bothered by it, in fact, he wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest, he found the warmth your body emitted rather soothing. But Nina? Nina was absolutely pissed. She was shooting daggers at Lily and you as if you both had just kissed her fiancé. In retrospect, if a new girl showed up in a year and she was all over your crush, you might’ve been just as angry, but you wouldn’t make it so obvious. She was damn lucky everyone else was too busy looking at their books or they all would’ve known by now.

“Oh, you can use something like make a fine dust with the dried fairyleaves,” She said after thinking about it for a bit, she then gave you an expectant look, asking if what she’d done was fine, you nodded, with a little smile.

“Oh, that’s perfect, actually,” You said as you leaned back to your place. Feeling how much colder it was without Remus’ body heat irradiating all over you “Thanks,” you told Lily and then turned to Nina “To you too love, for switching so Lily could help.” Nina nodded, still looking a bit pissed nonetheless. You continued working on your homework assignments for a while.

At some point, you heard Tom yawn, and a couple of minutes later he was excusing himself, saying he’d finish a different day. Beth decided to walk with him. The smaller children had also started going to their dorms. As the library emptied it grew chiller, so you pulled your backpack to your knees and started looking through it, you were certain you’d packed your sweater in there, but maybe you hadn’t.

Nina checked her watch and rushed out of the library.

“Everything alright?” Remus asked when he noticed.

You turned to him and nodded “I was just looking for my sweater, I guess I left it at the dorms.”

“I’ve got mine here,” he said, pulling it out of his bag and hanging it over.

You looked at the sweater, he’d already taken it out, and you didn’t want him to feel bad, so you glanced over at Nina, you didn’t want to make her upset by taking Remus’ sweater either, but she had already left, so you took it from his hands with a smile and thanked him. Pulling it over your head in one swift movement. It was big and warm, and it smelled so nice, you were thankful you didn’t reject it. You stayed in the library until about 9 pm, when Lily yawned and checked the clock on the wall behind you, realising how late it was.

“Oh, we must go, it’s time for dinner,” she said as she started to place her things in her bag. Remus and you followed suit, you placed your parchment in between one of your larger books so the ink wouldn’t run before putting it away. Once you had everything in your bags the three of you started walking towards the Great Hall. Lily switched over to walk by your side and you were left walking in between your two friends “What was the whole potions thing about?” She asked you.

“Oh… I had to test a hypothesis,” you explained, she looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for further explanation “The little Ravenclaw girl, Nina? I thought it was odd she was in our study group but spent most of her time just drawing in her notebook.”

Lily frowned, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen Nina do a lot of homework last year either “And?” She pressed.

“Oh, she’s got a massive crush on Remus.”

“Ahhhh” Remus said as he downed him, “so that’s why you were calling me Rem and being all chummy.”

“I wanted to see her reaction,” you shrugged. “She was pretty pissed when she had to switch seats with Lily, I think she low-key hates us now. But…” you did a dramatic pause “She seems nice,” you teased Remus.

“She looks 12, (Y/N)!” Remus said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“But she’s got pretty eyes,” you argued back, and it was true, she had this very beautiful doe-eye look going on, and her eyes were a very intense blue.

“Who’s got pretty eyes?” Asked Sirius, who’d spotted you from behind and approached right in the middle of a conversation.

“A girl that likes Remus,” replied Lily.

“I’d say she’s madly in love with him, but I guess likes works too,” you corrected.

Sirius raised his eyebrows with a little smirk “Moony boy, were you planning on getting a girlfriend without asking for permission?”

Remus shrugged and shoved Sirius “As if I needed your permission to date someone.”

“But you do! I’m your best friend!” The shorter boy insisted “Doesn’t he Lily?”

“Remus can make his own decisions,” she shrugged.

Remus smiled, and Sirius approached you instead, clenching to your arm “You have to back me up in this one love,” he said playfully, “go ahead, tell Remus he definitely needs permission from his best friends before dating someone.”

You raised your eyebrow at him, “Not sure about permission Puppy… maybe a 3-day notice?” you teased.

“3 days? At least a week, so we get used to the idea!”

“When have you ever given us so much as a notice?” Retorted Remus.

Sirius threw his head back dramatically “Moony, you know me, I’ve never dated anyone…” Remus gave him an incredulous look “Not seriously at least.”

“Ironic,” you said, Lily laughed.

“Besides, if you dated someone, I feel like you would date them date them, not just hook up with them,” Sirius continued.

Remus laughed at that “What makes you think I haven’t hooked up with anyone?”

Sirius seemed taken aback “Because you’ve never told me?”

“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, Pads,” Remus responded, Lily nodded in agreement.

“Hold up!” Sirius said in shock, finally letting your arm free “Are you implying you’ve been secretly hooking up with people?” Remus only laughed in return. “Remus?!”

“Sorry Pads,” he said walking in front of him with a shit-eating grin “There are some things about me, you’ll never know.”

Sirius exhaled, defeated and grabbed your arm again “You would tell me if you hooked up with someone, right?”

You raised your eyebrows, giving Remus a quick glance, he shrugged in response, and you turned your head to Sirius “Sure Puppy, you’ll be the first one to know.” You said ironically.

“Good.” You were pretty sure he hadn’t understood your sarcasm, but Remus had and he was holding back a laugh.

By the time you arrived at the Great Hall, it was almost empty, dinner had been at 7pm, and they stopped serving at 10, so it made sense only a couple students were left. Peter and Marlene joined you for dinner later, Mary had eaten with Tom earlier and was already back at the dorms according to Mars, and James was in a quidditch team reunion with the 7th years.

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A/N: Hope you enjoy this one, and what can I say? I def have a thing for big sweaters and Remus. / Also, guys, I wanted to take this little moment to thank you, I'm still working on my 400 followers celebration gifts and somehow, I now have 500, that's insane! You guys are incredible, also thank you for all the love you're showing The Five Senses, specially sights, I was not expecting almost 1000 notes and yet... I truly am filled with joy, atm, thank you for everything.

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slutt4ellie · 5 days

Text

Hearts Over Hierarchy

Loser!Ellie x Popular!Reader

Do opposites really attract?

Summery : When you run into a girl who rarely makes acknowledgment she even exists, there’s something that undoubtedly draws you to her..and a spark is created.

Warnings -> / Weed usage / Reader is confused about her feelings? / Ellie’s also confused about her feelings (ig?) / Just full loser Ellie / Really brief Skater!Ellie / eventual smut (probably) / fluff / tension / Little bits of smau / Toxic friendship / (Lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 4.8k (longest fic i’ve ever wrote!)

(Not proofread!)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸 - (takes like 2 seconds 🩷)

(Ellie)

The loud buzzing of Ellie’s alarm shoots her eyes open and her body halfway up. “F-fuck” She grumbles under her muffled voice. Running her right hand down her face.

Ellie grabs the alarm rested on her left bedside table and she’s finally met with the time 9:36am. “Oh fuck” Ellie says quickly stands up out of her single bed, planted in the corner of her single bedroom dorm. Classes start at 9:45. She has a total of 9 minutes to get dressed, leave her dorm, and run onto campus. Which has her leading to the fact there’s almost 0 fucking way she’s making it on time.

Since Ellie’s already up and out of her bed she runs to her dresser to throw on a pair of boxers and a sports bra which is almost instantly covered by “clean” sweat pants and a nike hoodie. It didn’t smell bad so it was fine!

4 minutes, it only took Ellie 4 minutes to get changed and grabbed her skateboard. She also glances over at the time as it now reads now reads 9:40. So this means her time isn’t “horrible” I mean getting ready in 4 minutes is sorta impressive, at least in her mind? Plus campus shouldn’t take that long, as long as she’s fast.

Ellie grabs her skateboard and leaves her dorm quickly running down the stairs, having basically 0 time to wait around and sit there like a duck for the elevator. And as soon as she’s met with concrete she’s off.

The reason why Ellie being late is such a fucking hassle is because she’s already been late a fair share of times building a reputation for it, when she walks into class and shit it doesn’t go without dirty looks. But it’s a new school year, so she’s tryna live by the corny ass saying “new year new me!” and actually not miss half the classes like last term.

(You)

You’re up early, 8:00 to be exact. You quietly leave your bedroom trying not to wake up the rest of your sorority sisters as you tiptoe through the halls. And just as you thought you were clear, a pair of blue eyes are met with yours.

Emily your best friend since freshman year. You two were like glue through high school, nothing could separate the two of you, sure you had fights and disagreements but nothing seemed like it could break the bond between you two..

As you meet her blue eyes you quickly notice her lips turning into a light smirk. “Why the fuck are you tiptoeing like we’re in a fucking Tom and Jerry episode?” You let out a pity laugh and smile “Oh ha ha…! Maybe because i’m nice and I didn’t wanna wake up all you guys?”

Emily smiles right back at you. “Why are you up so fucking early, thought your class started at 9:45?” You nod your head agreeing with her statement. “It does. I just wanted to be on top of it you know!” Emily shakes her head. “No I don’t fucking know? I don’t wake up a full hour and 45 minutes before my classes.”

You smile, you could ask her why she’s up but you already know her class starts at 8:30 (ew.) so going through more questions seems unethical. “Well!” You trail off then pick back up where you ended. “I need to have a shower sooo” Emily nods and goes back to her room “Yeah yeah!”

꧁✵★✵꧂

The steam fills your bathroom and the air is still warm from your lingering shower.

It was weird today. You don’t usually feel nervous for school, I mean you knew people, people knew you. There was literally nothing for you to feel even the slightest bit of tenseness. Yet it was still just there.?

Your just blaming it on basic nerves, you’re not really “excited” to get back into the grove of school, get a ton of work in before due dates which are are way to fucking fast. But either way you knew you had to suck it up so you pushed yourself out those doors and into your car.

Right on time 9:30. It should only take 10 minutes to drive onto campus and that leaves you with about 5 minutes before the lecture starts. At least that’s what you fucking planned.

But just to your luck. There was an incident, nothing serious. Just ending up backing up the roads. And any fucking other day you wouldn’t have really cared. But you really could not afford to be late on your first day back. You wanted to make sure you’re on top of everything, and the walk of shame into the classroom is probably one of the worst things person could every fucking experience.

Once you make it on campus you speed walk through the halls cutting through people just trying to get to your door. Then everything will be fine and normal, you won’t have to worry about how stup-

A hard thud goes straight into your back

You heard about 3 things fall flat on the ground none of the things being yours. And as shitty as it seems, you were genuinely considering walking away just to get to fucking class..

You’re not a complete dick and you were raised better. So this leads you to reluctantly turn around and your met with? Well you don’t exactly know, she looks familiar but maybe she’s a year younger so you don’t often see her. She has brunet- no, auburn hair, green eyes, and freckles that go all around her face. She looks familiar but you can’t put your finger on it.

You look down and notice a binder, a now slightly cracked phone and skateboard which finally you make the decision to crouch down. The auburn hair girl is mumbling a bunch of sorry’s “F-fuck that’s on me. I-i’m like super late? So I was looking down and sh-“ You cut her off and shake your head picking up her phone and binder as she picks up her skateboard. “You’re good..Fuck I’m late too.” You chuckle looking at her as you stand up, quickly handing her the items she dropped on the ground.

You give out your hand to shake “I’m-“ and as your about to say your name, you’re cut off by her voice “N-no I know you, you sat in front of me last term” You don’t know what really led you to say the next part but what else were you going to say?? You didn’t notice her once, lying seemed like a better approach. “Right! Um what was it…A- no H?” You notices how her eyebrows furrow, the fact you definitely don’t know her name is becoming apparent.

“I-uh Ellie” She shakes your hand.

“Yeah! I was getting there!” You smile looking back at her before talking again.

“We’re you?” She tilts her head talking in a tone laced with a joking sound..just from her demeanour alone you can tell she was kidding.

“I was..” You shift your gaze down to her lips then back up. You weren’t trying to be weird or anything, you just did it on instinct which now on the contrary seems a tad bit creepy since this is literally your first time even talking to her.

Once you meet her eyes again you nervously cleared your throat and starting talking once again. “Well what room are you!”

Ellie notices the quick change of subject and she nervously shakes her head “U-uhh fuck 217 I think…?” You nod and look at her “Fuck, okay shit me too?” Your voice stops then picks back up “Want to walk?”

Ellie perks up and nods. It kept playing in the back of her mind why the fuck you were talking to her. Ellie wasn’t popular, not your level of popularity. Everyone knew you. So the fact you were standing in front of her, talking to her. She was almost confused. Yet she wasn’t complaining..

It only took a few minutes before you reached the classroom door, as you check your phone you see you’re a bit late. Nothing to complain about, it’s only 9:47 so who cares..?

When opening the doors your eyes lock with the seats in the back left corner, there open, and no one is sitting in them. You look at Ellie who seems nervous.

Little do you know in her mind she’s wondering where the fuck she’s going to sit.

The only single seats are in the middle of like 5 fucking people.

Once you notices her eyes are scanning the room and her whole face is plastered with a nervous expression you nudge her lightly.

“Wanna sit over there” You point your finger and her eyes quickly follow it.

She seems confused. Like her brain just did a 360 but she stutters over her words when talking back to you. “Y-you wanna s-sit together?”

“Yeah?” You smile and let out a chuckle.

“R-right! Yeah- Yeah we can sit over there.” She smiles and nods looking at you.

As you sit down your phone buzzes in your left pocket not wasting much time to pull it out. There’s one message Emily. Asking if you made it okay and stuff. Which leads to a mini conversation.

You couldn’t help but feel almost icked out? Emily’s not usually rude so her response was weird, and out of character. You wanted to believe maybe she was making a statement or something but you replied regardless.

She was being so strange, like not her usual self. Which lead your eyebrows to furrow and you were abo-

“You okay?” Ellie’s voice says softly probably noticing the fact your eyebrows are furrowed and your face now showing clear signs of annoyance.

“O-oh yeah!” you reply now embarrassed as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “Just one of my friends, i’m good though!”

Ellie nods and smiles. “Okay, just wanted to make sure?”

You haven’t really met anyone like Ellie. I guess other then Emily? But it still took months to feel comfortable with her. With Ellie it seems almost easy? Like fast?

Your whole friend group is popular. Which wasn’t horrible? The benefits of being popular is nice? Sorta.. But unfortunately half of your “friend group” is fake.

Talking behind peoples back kinda fake.

You tried not to let it bug you though, you had people in your friend group you obviously loved, so you would just stick in that crowd.

But there was always some anxiety which came with it. Like you didn’t know if things you said would get passed around, so when talking to Ellie, knowing nothing had the chance of somehow going to anyone, else it was refreshing.

The class was finally fucking over and you packed up your laptop and papers.

As you were about to leave you said a quick bye to Ellie trying to be respectful. You didn’t wanna ask for her number because you didn’t want to come across as weird, you two just met? So that could wait?

As you turned around there was a quick “wait!” which was clearly from Ellie.

You just turned around trying to read her expression but as you were she cut off your train of thought. “C-can I uh get your number! I was thinking we could maybe study or something. This math s-shit is like kicking my ass” After her sentence there was a dry awkward chuckle. The fact you didn’t immediately respond worried her

Did she come off as weird?

To pushy?

You’re popular why the fuck-

“Yeah!” You smile walking back over to her.

“Are you busy right now? We can go back to my place and study if you want” You say not breaking eye contact.

Ellie quickly breaks the eye contact handing you her phone before she clears her throat. “W-no! no i’m not busy, right now is good actually” Her voice cracks in the middle of the sentence leading her to clear her throat once again.

You grab her slightly cracked phone and nod..

“K cool, it’s not a long drive and my cars out in the front lot.”

In a car

With you.

Great!

꧁✵★✵꧂

Saying the car ride is awkward is an understatement? Reason number one, you don’t know what to say because you literally just met Ellie.

I mean you’re alright on small talk but what the fuck do you say to someone you met a solid 2 hours ago?

And on the other hand Ellie is Ellie.

She can’t pick up on small talk for the life of her. So when you finally speak it almost feels like a blessing and a curse.

“Sorry about you phone?” You say, both hands still on the steering wheel as you drive.

“Huh?” Fuck this is awkward.

“Your phone, it’s cracked. Sorry?” You say a smile cracking.

“I ran head first into your bag I’m pretty sure that’s on me” Ellie chuckles looking at you as you drive.

“I guess, but maybe if I was walking faster it wouldn’t have happened!” You say glancing over at her before you turn your eyes back to the road.

Ellie’s face turns a light pink as soon as you made split eye contact with her. She’s silently now thanking ever fucking god in the universe that you turned your head before you could notice.

“Maybe but I think that was a sign I shouldn’t walk with my head down” Ellie let’s out a slight laugh.

The silence falls once again neither of you knowing what to says.

“D-“

“Sor-“

Both of speak at the same time a dry chuckle coming from both your lips.

“You go.” Ellie says nodding.

“I was just going to say sorry for not noticing you?” You say clearing your throat anxiously.

“What do you mean?” Ellie says tilting her head still looking at your side profile.

“Like- I sat in front of you for months you know?.. just the fact I didn’t noticed you makes me feel like an egotistical prick?” You say rubbing the back of your neck with your left hand.

Ellie shakes her head at your response. “No! Fuck I barley talked, trust me, you not noticing doesn’t make me have hard feelings” Ellie says quickly, she doesn’t want you to feel guilty for anything.

You just smile at her response and nod. “What we’re you going to say?” She quickly talks “Just gonna ask do you get what the fuck is going on in class”

You quickly laugh and shake your head “Fuck no! I’m actually so ass at math your gonna have to walk me through it.” Ellie smiles and nods. “What makes you think i’m gonna be good at it!” She says with a chuckle.

“Well you have to be good at it because we’re official study partners!” You say before nodding your head. “Official??” Ellie smiles

“Oh yeah, official” You nod and continue nervously. “We’re uh here!” You park the car in front of your sorority.

“I never been to a fucking sorority” Ellie says getting out of the car with her backpack in hand. “No?” You say looking at her. “Nah” She shakes her head “They feel cult-ish?” She laughs causing you to smile and look at her “So you’re joining my cult then?”

“Guess soo” She drags out her ‘so’ dramatically before walking to the two big white doors which leads into the sorority house.

You and Ellie studied for a few hours. Looking outside the sky was now dark. Rather then the bright blue it shined before.

You guys studying was basically just an excuse to talk, you got to know a lot about each other. Ellie opened up to you, you opened up to her.

You haven’t ever had a friendship where you got so comfortable so fast. It’s like the fact you guys met a solid few hours ago, it was completely disregarded. It’s like you connected so fucking fast.

You learned Ellie had two close friends Dina and Jesse. They didn’t go to the same school as you and her, instead they went to one about 30 minutes out. You “learned” she’s painfully shy, which you already got the message as soon as she ran into you.

She let it slip she actually debated talking to you last term but you seemed extremely intimidating which you laughed at. But she was standing her ground, saying like you gave off a bit of scary vibes.

“Okay scary?” You replied laughing

“Scary!” She says looking at you. Both of your guys studying papers are far from filled out, almost completely empty. But to be fair that’s the last thing on your mind.

“I need one fucking example from when I was being ‘scary’” You say defensively looking at her. The two of you are crisscrossed on your queen bed a bit to close considering how much space the both of you had. Both of your knees touching.

“K well- I don’t have a fucking time list of all the times I thought you seemed scary!” Ellie says shaking her head looking at you.

Your hand instinctively falls on her knee “I’m asking for ONE example!” You made sure to emphasize the word one. To point out it was really fucking easy.

Ellie’s whole face heats up and she feels like her body’s on fire causing her to stutter over almost ever other word “I-I d-don’t know l-like one t-time I heard you talking about h-how you were ‘gonna murder him’” She says chuckling to mask the nervousness that’s coursing through her veins.

You try to recall when you said this, it suddenly clicking “Okay wait! No there’s context!” You chuckle and now both of you are closer. It’s like each time a sentence is said, you’re moving further in.

“What fucking context could there be!” Ellie spits out laughing, which causes you to laugh harder.

“I was talking about some dick who used one of my friends!” You laugh your head falling onto Ellie’s shoulder.

“I guess that’s fair?” Ellie’s voice gets quieter. You can her heart beat which to say it’s fast. That’s would be an understatement.

You pull your head off her shoulder and look at her. Her face is pretty pink and you feel like you can ever little detail that revolves around her face. One thing about seeing ever detail, it had a result of your faces being mere inches from each others.

You don’t even know what the fuck led you to do this but you slowly guided your left hand to cuff Ellie’s cheek which now has the both of you to instinctively lean in.

Ellie does the same, manly following your lead as her hand also goes onto your cheek and now your noses brush against each other.

And just as your lips were about to touch a knock hits right against your door.

You and Ellie both quickly flinch back clearing your throat nervously.

You get up faster then her and the person behind the door is no other then Emily. You hadn’t texted her since the whole weird ass messages she sent a few hours ago.

Ellie’s thoughts are now going all over the place. Because you two almost just kissed, a knock breaks it up..and now there’s a girl who in her mind, is way better looking!

Ellie doesn’t wanna think it, but the fact you might have a girlfriend is lurking in the back of her mind. She wouldn’t be surprised to say the least.

“Hey” Emily says eyeing Ellie who is now putting her papers back into her backpack nervously, her hands fumbling over each sheet..

“Hi..?” You say looking at Emily. She’s eyeing Ellie with a look you haven’t noticed before. And as you were going to say something along the lines of “Do you need something” but Emily’s voice talks over your thoughts.

“Can we talk” She says now meeting your eyes.

“I mean I have someone ove-“ But before you can finish your sentence Ellie intervenes. “It’s- It’s fine i’m heading out anyway. You know it’s dark..? So?”

“I- uh, alright. You want me to drive you?” You say looking at Ellie which she almost instantly shakes her head “I’m not tryna be a burden i’ll just skate back, my dorms on campus…so i’ll uh, i’ll be chill..” Ellie says grabbing her skateboard which was planted in your room. Right after Ellie grabs her skateboard she already is almost out of the door. But you quickly talk.

“Just text me when you get to your dorm, so I know you got back safe and shit.” You say softly.

And just like that she’s gone, and your standing awkwardly in a room with Emily. When the front door finally shuts she got the sudden urge to talk. “Ellie?”

You nod confused. “Uh- yeah..? We were just studying…”

Emily nods looking at you. “Why though?”

“Sorry..?” You say now even more confused then you were previously.

“Like why hang out with her?” Emily says looking at you.

You think she’s joking so you laugh sarcastically “Fuck off?”

“I’m being for real, Williams, she’s like weird dude... That’s literally all anyone talked about when she was in my class.” Emily now chuckles and you shake your head.

“She’s not even weird?” You say defensively. “Have you talked to her?”

Emily shakes her head fast “I don’t wanna fucking talk to her?? Like I said she’s weird.”

You’ve never seen Emily act so blatantly rude, like she had her own opinions but she knew whether or not she should announce them. Plus! She’s never even met Ellie yet she’s judging her so easily with no second thought. You tried to push it behind you, trying to end the conversation with a quick “I gotta go to bed so. We can talk later.”

Emily scoffs “Great! Now you’re fucking being weird!”

“Im not even being weird! You’re just being rude, i’m not gonna listen you talk shit about someone you haven’t even had a conversation with!”

Emily just shakes her head “I’m hardly talking shit shit. I’m just saying what I heard, fuck.” The fact she’s trying to justify her shitty behaviour and actions just makes you more annoyed.

“K great talk Emily. I gotta get sleep” You say before shutting the door with a hard slam as Emily gets out of your room.

It’s been a few weeks since that whole situation, Emily’s been okay? She apologized and shit but everything is still a bit tense?.. Like she lets out mini sighs when you say your going to hang out with Ellie.

You assumed this was because maybe she felt left out, but every time you even attempted to ask her she always shook her head and replied with “Eh sorta busy with homework”

So you dropped in, she was clearly going through some weird ass phase with you new friendship and you just wanted her to push through with it. You didn’t feel like guiding Emily through it all.

And then on the other hand

Ellie

neither of you mentioned what happened in your room that night, or what almost happened? It wasn’t relevant, some friends almost kiss! You two almost kissed…? And it was nothing important.

Not something to jeopardize your new friendship. So you dropped it. And you internally prayed she would too.

Ellie on the other hand. She was thinking about the moment constantly, like it was a virus infiltrating every single free fucking thought she had. She doesn’t know if the blue eyed girl was your girlfriend, but at the end of the day she didn’t wanna push the subject. You hadn’t talked about it so it wasn’t something she was willing to bring up. Seemed better to drop it!

And here you are, laying down on your bed extremely bored with nothing to fucking do. Your mind was just wondering, thinking about class, school, Elli-

There’s buzzing coming from your bedside table and you quickly grab you phone.

Ellie.

You laughed at your phone. Ellie’s jokes were actually so bad it made them funny. You kept texting her no plan of stopping, but then she tells you she has a little something!

You smile at her messages quickly following up by closing your phone. You didn’t waste time to grab you car keys quickly leaving your sorority house.

꧁✵★✵꧂

The car ride wasn’t all that bad, it was nice knowing that you’ll get to be with Ellie again. Plus it was literally only 10 minutes so when you get there you quickly park and rush to the campus dorms.

As you go into the building you take the left to the elevators, shortly entering before you click floor 2.

As it stops and the doors open and you lead yourself to Ellie’s dorm which you’ve now been in a few times.

After knocking it literally doesn’t take long before she answers..her hairs messy, a few strands down her face and she gives you a quick smile. One thing you instantly noticed was the strong scent of weed that exits her room. “You’ve been busy” you say sarcastically giving her a quick smile.

Her eyes are red and she’s clearly faded. “Soooo busy!” She says sarcastically before it’s followed by yet another smile.

You go into her room and sit on her little single bed that’s planted right in the corner of her bedroom.

She passes you an already lit joint which you take a drag from.

“I wanna ask you something?” Ellie says as she takes the joint back.

You nod letting out a short “hm?”

“You obviously don’t have to say yes” she starts dragging her words a mix of nervousness and being high.

“Okay..?” You say nodding, you don’t know what she’s gonna ask but either way you’re nervous.

“Jesse and Dina, they rent cabin every year. And like my not tryna really third wheel so I was wondering…if maybe like-?” Ellie says shifting her gaze down into her lap.

“When is it?” You ask looking at her.

Ellie’s almost surprised you didn’t immediately turn it down so she quickly clears her throat. “Fuck sorry- It’s in a week. You don’t have to com-“

“Yeah I’ll come?” You say, the high now finally clicking in. Ellie’s heart is skipping right now but she quickly pushes it down.

You two are fucking friends. Just friends.

“Sick. O-okay cool. I’ll just like text you everything you’ll need and shit. And it’s like an hour drive so me, you, Jesse and Dina can all just like fucking drive together.”

“Okay cool!” You smile.

You and Ellie. Are going to a cabin together.

Nothing to be nervous about…!

———————————————————

A/N -> Hii! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I already have a full plot layout for the second one.

This might only be two parts simply because I might be able to fit everything I want with enough detail in just a singular part.

I plan on adding some angst in the next chapter ☹️ (so ig be ready for that!)

I also wanna really emphasize Emily is not homophobic! 😭

I was reading some of this chapter and it sorta seemed implied she was at least a little homophobic, calling Ellie “Weird” and shit, but it’s not because Ellie gay! I’m pretty sure most people might be able to clue on why she’s not to fond of Reader and Ellie’s ‘friendship’ but that’ll be for the next chapter.

I hope you enjoyed!

Taglist : @bready101 @onlinelesbo @amberputh @seraphicsentences @a-little-bit-of-everybody @zoehxnji @cyb3rd0nguh @graviewaviee

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13as07 · 3 months

Text

Motherhood

(Kakashi Hatake)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Garajiru]

Requested by: Myself

Keys:

None

[Idea inspired by Criminal Minds - Garcia and Derek; Season 8, Episode 11]

Word Count: 3,979

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

None

———————————————————————

My whole body aches as I walk across the grassy field of the Third Training Ground. I'll never understand why Kakashi insists on training so far away from the main parts of the village. Well... I do understand. Despite how he comes off, he is a very sentimental person.

Pain sizzles across my rib cages, a side effect from littered stitches across my skin. I'm never going to hear the end of it when Kakashi finds out.

I should wait until he's done training with his students. I know he's a personal guy and I get it, especially with our line of work, but I want to see him. The burning need for him has been clawing at my heart for the past week. That burning only grew once the stab wounds registered in my head, and somehow became even heavier as needles were being threaded through me to close my wounds. He's going to be pissy or at least off his game when I find him, but that's okay. I know he'll smooth himself out.

As if the universe wants to apologize, a mix of 'why's', groans, and 'Sensei!'s fill the meadow. I can feel a smile perk up at the sounds.

I've heard a lot about my husband's little genins; Sasuke the Uchiha boy who shows great potential if he could get over his attitude, Naruto the chakra-packed spaz-ball who dreams of being Hokage, and Sakara the kunoichi with impressive chakra control who's just a little too distracted by Sasuke.

My smile only grows as the big blob of my husband and his three little blobs fall into my sight. The yellow and orange blob - I think that one is Naruto - is bobbing up and down. What a cute little jumping bean; well jumping blob.

Despite the burning across my sides, I hurry up my pace to get to Kakashi faster.

Once I can make out the details of my dotting husband, the burning in my heart starts cooling off. God, I miss him so much when we're apart. The seemingly unreachable retirement in our future sounds so good right now.

"Calm down, guys. It's just a progress exercise," Kashi's voice rings out, paired with the soft clinking of the bells wrapped around his belt loop. Before I left he mentioned redoing the bell test with his genins to check how they've improved. I guess today is the day.

"Oh, come on Kakashi-Sensei! Do you have to? We all know I'm already the best, do you really have to double-check it?" Blondie whines as he messes with his headband. That is definitely the spaz-ball.

"Being less sucky than Sakura doesn't make you the best," the raven-haired boy mumbles, arms crossed over his chest as he glares at Naruto.

Sasuke's eyes catch me for a second before he glances at his Sensei for guidance. Said Sensei hasn't caught wind of me yet, curtsy of his back being turned towards me with his students facing the both of us.

Sakura's face sinks at her crush's words before a closed-eyes smile crosses her face. "I think it'll be fun to do the bell exercise again, Sensei!" When her eyes snap open, they catch on me too, just like the Uchiha did a second ago. Unlike the boy though, her face scrunches up as she stays focused on me. "Sensei-"

I jump forward, arms wrapping around my husband. I immediately regret it when my stitches come into rough contact with Kakashi's vest. A pain-filled whine slips out as I bury my head between his shoulder blades. "That hurt," I whine again, softly digging my fingertips into his stomach.

"Then maybe don't do that," Kash teases, his smile slipping through his words.

My head lifts before falling back down, softly headbutting his back. "Don't be mean."

A soft chuckle fills the air, spilling out from my husband. The sound fills me with warm, the good love-filled kind instead of the longing kind of heat. "My little crybaby," he mumbles, shifting in my hold so my head is against his chest instead of his back. "Why are you being such a crybaby?"

"I'm not being a crybaby," I bite back but it comes out as a pout instead of the strong 'don't fuck with me' attitude I was trying to have.

"Aww, now you're being pouty," he continues to tease as his hands slide under my shirt.

Despite his teasing tone, everything else about Kakashi is serious. His hands are soft and nimble as he rubs them over my skin, checking for new wounds from my mission. His eye repeatedly scanning me, looking for obvious wounds and any sign of real distress.

"I might have had a not-so-perfect mission," I mumble, glancing behind him at his students. They're all looking at each other in confusion, hushed whispers - and Naruto's failing attempt at being quiet - being passed between them.

"What does that mean?" Kashi asks, his fingers light as he comes into contact with my wrappings.

It's taken some practice, but I can see the small cracks in his calm composure. His eyebrows are ever so slightly pushed forward, jaw locked almost unnoticeably under his mask, eye slightly wider than normal, and a drop of worry hidden in his words. From an outsider, he'd look as calm as ever, but not to me. I can see the storm brewing under it.

"I was stabbed a couple of times but it's not that big of the deal. No casualties and my squad came out less harmed than me, so over all a good mission."

Another slip of composer; his fingers stiffing a bit as he dips them under the bandages. "I can't believe you were stabbed," he whispers, face inching closer to me so I can pick up on the soft volume.

I feel bad about not being able to wait to see him. I know it's difficult for him to keep his composure when I'm hurt, and even more difficult when we're around people because he's worried his composure will slip.

"I got stabbed in my vest," I mumble back, wrapping my hands slightly around his arms before I stand up a bit straighter. I use the extra height to nuzzle myself against his cheek. "It's just a couple of stitches, I'm okay."

"Why don't they make better vests?" Kash mumbles to himself more than me, his focus on his hands as if he could see them through my shirt.

His breath has picked up too, fingers not so light as they cling to my wrappings. My poor anxiety-filled husband is getting into his head way too much. "They're not stabproof. It's like when your watch gets wet and stops working. That's water resistant not waterproof. They need to make our vests knife-proof. They should-"

"I... am... fine..." I breathe out, following each word with a kiss. First to his reviled eye, then to his cheek at the edge of his mask, and lastly, a light one against his masked lips.

"I know but-"

My hands dip further down his arms, tugging my shirt up gently so the edge of my bandages is exposed. "See? I'm fine?" I tease a bit, dipping my head behind his ear before pressing another soft kiss into him.

When I fall back into place, Kakashi's eye is dancing over the edge of my wrap, fingers lightly dancing over my skin again. A barely visible pink pokes out from his mask. My partner might be a very composed man, but he's still a man. One that falls victim to the shaping of my waist, especially when it's empathized by a skirt or crop top; or bandages in this case.

"It's just a couple of stitches," I repeat before dropping my hands back to my sides, my shirt following pursuit.

"How... how, um..." Kakashi's flustered state is adorable, the pink getting deeper and his eye still locked in please even though his favorite sight is gone. "How long do you need to be taped up like this?"

"I don't know. A couple of days maybe," I answer, letting my own eyes wander over him. I'm as pleased to look over Kashi's body as he is to look over mine; though his v-line is my favorite part. A soft hum comes from him, his body going back to his actual calmness instead of his fake composure. "You relaxed now?" I tease, pulling away from his touch.

"Ya, I'm relaxed now," he husks out, stepping forward in a slow attempt to chase me.

"Sensei!" All three of his students call, pulling my husband back down to Earth.

I think he missed me as much as I missed him. The thought makes me happy, tugging another small smirk to my face.

"Students!" He calls, eye going wide as he looks at me. Perhaps Kakashi doesn't want me around his students because I'm too much of a distraction. Oh well, one day of distraction won't hurt. "Students," he repeats, turning away from me to face the children he's responsible for.

"Sensei, who's the cute lady?" Naruto asks, his eyes wide as well as he looks over me.

"Um..."

"You can call me Mrs. Hatake!" I chirp out, sidestepping Kashi so his students can see me better.

"She's not even that good-looking," the little emo boy says, rolling his eyes at Naruto's compliment.

"And you're not as badass as you think you are," I respond, tone still chirpy as I smile at the Uchiha.

"Maybe let's not insult Sensei's girlfriend," Sakura pipes in, sending a glare at her heartthrob.

"Wife," Kakashi corrects, a small smile on his face. My heart jumps a bit at the word. I don't think I'll ever get used to him calling me his wife.

"Wife?!" They all call out, surprise on their face as they look at me.

"Wife," Kashi repeats, tugging his glove off his left hand before grabbing at mine. He holds up our hands, showing off our matching wedding bands to his students.

The bands are basic but cute; black with blue lightening strips through them. Gai teases that Kakashi had them made this way to mimic his Chidori as a fail-proof claim to me. I don't mind the teasing, I find it adorable that Kashi wants people to know for certain that he's my husband. What better way to do that than marking me with his personal ninjutsu?

"You... are married to someone like that?" His kunoichi asks, face scrunched up in disbelief.

"Is that supposed to be an insult, Sakura?" Kash asks, his face still covered in a smile as he wiggles his glove back on.

"No, you're just so..." she makes another face, causing a laugh to brew in my chest. "And she's so pretty."

"You're pretty too, Sakura. I like the color of your hair," I answer, sending the kid a compliment back. Her face shifts to a smile instead of the previous face of disbelief. Good, I'm making a good impression on my husband's students.

"You know Sakura's name?!" Naruto asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

I hum a yes, turning my attention to him. "I know your name too, Naruto, and I know Mr Moody over there is Sasuke."

Naruto - somehow - beams even more with happiness, and Sasuke's face scrunches in disapproval. "How do you know our names?" The ball of chakra asks, his in-place bouncing shifting to actual bouncing.

"Because she's a jounin, duh. Do you ever use your head Naruto?" Mr Moody asks, paired with another eye roll.

"Actually, I'm just a chunin. I'm not as skilled as your Sensei," I correct, sending Naruto a soft smile of reassurance.

"Like a C-level chunin or a B-level chunin?" Sasuke asks, his attention finally caught.

"Usually B-leveled but I do take C-level missions on occasion."

"You just got back from a mission, ya?" He asks, body language opening up some. I'm three for three in the student department. That is a solid win.

"Yes, I did. Maybe we can talk about it over some food, hm?" I gently push, sending Kakashi a sheepish smile. I know he's going to give me what I want; he always does, but I should have asked him privately before bringing it up to his students.

On the other hand, Kakashi is out of his groove so I'm sure his students are out of a training mindset as well. Some food would help set them back on track, maybe. Probably not, but I want to get to know his students a little more. After all, they're a big part of his life, which makes them a big part of my life.

"Really?! Can we, Sensei? Can we? Can we? Can we?" Naruto cheers, running circles around Kash as he pleads.

"Alright, alright!" He calls, stopping Naruto in his tracks. "We can take a small break and go eat at Ramen Ichiraku, but as soon as we're done eating we are doing the bell test. Y/N can't wiggle you guys out of that," Kashi answers, sending me a warning look, telling me to not even try to stop their testing again after we eat.

"Yes!" Naruto cheers, darting in the direction of the village's main road.

Sasuke rolls his eyes again but follows after his squad mate, his pace notably slower than Naruto's. Sakura follows suit, trying her best to get Sasuke to promise to sit next to her. He is having none of it though, at least not until Naruto offers to sit next to her. Then he seems a little more interested in the offer. The little Uchiha boy takes after his Sensei more than he knows.

—————————————

"That sounds so cool," Naruto yells around a mouth full of noodles. I'll have to send Iruka a passing comment about his kid's lack of table manners. Despite that, Naruto is still adorable and the cutest little fuzz-ball I've ever met.

"Didn't feel cool when I was getting stitched up," I reply a small chuckle following my words.

"If you can take the cut, you can take the stitch," Kakashi teases despite the tighter grip he has on my hand under the table. Mr. Play-It-Cool isn't as laid back as he's pretending.

"What about you guys? You just got back from the Village hidden in the Mist, ya?" I push gently, trying to change the subject. I can almost hear the 'thank you' brewing in my husband's throat, even if he'd never voice it. The relaxed fingers tangled in mine are enough of an approval. "That must have been fun."

"It was alright," Sasuke mumbles, chopsticks messing with his noodles. Little Moody isn't as good at playing off his emotions as his Sensei.

"You got your second tomoe, right?" I try again, turning my focus to Sasuke. He's a closed-off one, just like Kakashi... and his brother.

The Uchahi's eyes go a bit wide before his full attention is on me. "Um... ya, I guess."

"You guess? I feel like that's something you would know."

"I did, ya," he mumbles before turning his attention back to his bowl.

"Well, that's quite the accomplishment. Your father would be proud."

I should not have said that. Sasuke's grip on his chopsticks tightens, head snaps back up, glare directed at me, as he pushes himself to his feet. The stool he was standing on clinks to the ground, making Sakura jump. It would be a cute scene if the Uchahi didn't have murder in his eyes.

"And what do you know about my father? Nothing. Just like you know nothing about me, so stop trying to be a mother hen. I don't need you to be one, neither does Naruto or Sakura, so knock it off. And while you're at it stop pretending you know anything about the sharingan too, cause you don't."

A soft smile sits on my face as I look over Sasuke. He reminds me so much of Kakashi, right down to the similar anger they have. The only difference is I managed to get Kashi to process his anger for the death of his loved ones.

"Are you done?" I ask gently, ignoring the feeling of Kakashi repeatedly squeezing my hand under the table. That, and the stare he's burning into me.

"Yes," the Uchiha hisses out, eyes squinting in anger.

"Well, first, information on anything - sharingan included - is available at the library. Second, your Sensei has a sharingan so I know a good deal about it. Third, there's a difference between me wanting to get to know you and me wanting to mother you. Fourth, I did meet your father quite a few times before his death so I can say for certain that you were one of his pride and joys."

"Oh," is the only answer I get back, but I don't mind since it seems my speech worked. Sasuke is still a bit on edge but his body language relaxes a bit before he picks his stool back up. I'll count that as a win. What a little spitfire.

The feeling of Kakashi's hold on my hand tightens again, pulling me out of the situation. I turn my attention to him, being met with a soft masked smile. Flowers of love blossom in my chest at the sight. God I love this man, and our little make-shift family. Maybe Sasuke is right, maybe I am accidentally trying to mother my husband's students.

—————————————

"Hatake!" A voice rings out, pulling my attention away from Gai. I've spent the day helping him train his students, aka being an example dummy for new taijutsus he wants to show his genins. It's not all bad, he promised me dinner to "ease my bruises".

"Yes?" I call back, glancing at Gai and his students before turning towards the noise.

Gai's mini-me - Lee - is beaming with joy as he races past me. "If it isn't my greatest competitor for Sakura's heart!" He yells, falling back into his defensive pose. I swear this new generation of Shinobis is just packed full of energy.

Sasuke makes a face at Lee before turning his attention to me. "Sensei wants you," he murmurs before turning in his heels.

I shoot Gai an apologetic smile before heading off after the Uchahi. It's funny watching him trying to stay a step or two ahead of me. Given, that it doesn't last long, him falling back to a normal pace.

Most of the walk is uneventful, nothing more than silence and eye daggers being thrown at me. "I don't like you," Sasuke finally says once we get to the outer fields of the village.

"Well, I don't like you either," I shoot back, trying to keep the smile off my mouth.

Once again Sasuke makes a face, this time in surprise instead of disgust like earlier. "You can't say that to me."

"And yet, I did," I answer, letting the smirk settle on my face.

"You have an attitude problem."

"I'm copying you, so maybe you have an attitude problem."

Another face, this time leaving him as the spitting image of his mother. It's always surprised me how much Sasuke looks like his mom. Will Kashi and my child look that much like me? Or take after their father? I hope they at least get their father's Shinobi skills. Though, children can't be something I think of right now. Kakashi has his hands full as is.

Once again silence falls between the genin and I, but this time it's a comfortable silence instead of the anger brewing one from before. As we walk, Sasuke occasionally bumps into me, his nose scrunching up each time followed by a couple of side steps away from me. Despite his efforts, the little Uchahi keeps hovering back to my side and continues to bump into me. It's good to know under all the brewing, Sasuke is still a child.

"Look!" Naruto's voice echoes across the empty field, his blob coming into view again. "Lady Hatake!" He screams, dragging out my Clan name as he races across the field, Sakura in tow but she's screaming for Sasuke instead of me.

"Naruto!" I call back, bracing myself for impact. Despite my preparation, I still end up taking a step or two back when Naruto's body collides with mine. His limbs stab into me in a few different places, bones colliding against my own along with my stitches. I suck in the hiss of pain trying to slide out as I hold on to the small boy.

"Naruto," Sasuke hisses out, dagger eyes back on his face. "Be careful. Hatake is still hurt, dumbie." An eye roll is paired with the end of his sentence, along with a disappointed tongue click.

"Oh, right. Sorry Lady Hatake."

"It's all right," I hum, straightening the boy before letting him go. "What are you guys working on?"

"Chakra control! Which I'm doing awesome at, by the way," Sakura answers, a proud smile across her face. I can't help but smile too at how proud she is of herself. My husband does have some good genins.

"Hello," Kakashi's voice rings out, pulling my attention away from his students, but not for long.

"Nah-uh! You get her all to yourself all the time Sensei, wait your turn!" Naruto barks, a sorry attempt at a glare on his face. "Guess what Lady Hatake!"

"What?" I ask, glancing down at the chakra ball before looking back at my husband. He's beaming - well beaming as much as he lets himself outside of the safety of our house.

"I tried a new ramen last night!"

"Oh ya?" My empty question is followed by a twenty-minute conversation about some spicy ramen Naruto tried. It's also filled with Sakura reminding him that he's stupid and Sasuke's disapproval being openly shared.

"Okay, that's enough about your dinner, Naruto," Kashi pipes up, cutting Naruto off. "You can have her back in a minute. Go... see who can hang upside longest." He mumbles, shrugging towards the tree a couple of feet away.

"It's totally going to be me," Naruto cheers, running off towards the tree.

"No way I'm going to let you beat me!" Sasuke yells, dashing after his squad mate, Sakura hot on his heels.

The thought of children crawls back into my head. I already adore Kash's students, I can only imagine how much I'd adore our children.

"Hey, Kash-"

"Love-"

Silence follows our accidental overlap, before being chased away by both of us chuckling. "What were you going to say?" I ask, soaking in my husband's appearance. No matter how many times or how long I look at him, Kakashi is always the most handsome man in the world.

"I think we should go to dinner tonight," he answers, glancing at his students. As ordered, all three are hanging upside down like bats. Though, Sakura looks tired so the competition will probably end up being between the boys.

"Why's that?" I ask my attention also on the genins. My chest bubbles with joy as I watch the boys try to tug each other off the branches.

"I want to talk about having a baby."

"What?" The word is torn from my lungs as my head flips back to Kakashi.

He's stood there, arms crossed and a faint smile under his mask. "I want to have a baby." He repeats, my head spinning a bit. Maybe he's more prepared for a child than I thought.

"Kash-" I start again, but end up getting cut off for the second time today.

"Naruto is cheating!" Sakura yells, waving her hands around to try and get Kakashi's attention.

"I'll see you tonight. Naruto! Knock it off!" My eyes trail after him as I watch his path toward his students. The idea of motherhood seemed so lovely a second ago, but now? It's terrifying.

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi oneshot #kakashi hatake oneshot #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader

114 notes · View notes

gentlebeardsbarngrill · 3 months

Text

01/18/2024 Crew Recap

TLDR; Summary: #HoistTheAds and Astroglide OFMD both happening tomorrow 1/19/24; UK Fans We Need Your Help!; New Hashtags/Petition Link; David Jenkins/RhysDarby/TaikaWaititi Troll us with Hidden Stuff; More Articles; Petition Status, News That Gives Us Hope for S3, and Rhys Darby in Shorts.

Note: Please feel free to let me know if I missed something important, if I'm incorrect, if the formatting pisses you off, or whatever, I take constructive feedback <3 thx lovelies.

Need to catch up on recaps? ofmd daily recaps

==Things You Don't Want To Miss Tomorrow 1/19/2024 and 1/20/2024==

EDIT: HOIST THE ADS: This might be starting at 12 EST - https://www.tumblr.com/renewasacrew/739916790295052288/join-us-in-just-over-10-minutes-at-midnight-est?source=share

#HoistTheAds is finally coming to NYC and LA tomorrow. There will be Flyovers, Billboards, etc. As of right now it looks like its just happening every few minutes on the billboard for the next day.

Tumblr Info

Twitter Info

==Astroglide Watch-A-Long at 1/19/2024 1 PM PST ==

To clarify exactly how it works, basically what they're doing is asking you to stream on the service of your choice starting at Season 1 Episode 1, and Astroglide (and Squishables might be joining) will be tweeting reactions as they go.

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

=UK Fans! We need your help! @lamentus1 was kind enough to give us updates on the efforts going on over the UK!=

UK specific OFMD fans in groups on Tumblr, Twitter and Facebook are trying to come together to push for the BBC to air OFMD Season 2 in the UK since they haven’t done so yet!

So many UK fans can’t actually watch the second season *legally* based off a tumblr poll that @lamentus1 did recently, and a third of fans who voted can’t even watch OFMD because it’s not on in their country!

The current plans are:

Email two key people at the BBC:

Sue Deeks (Brought OFMD to the UK) --- [email protected] Charlotte Moore (Chief Content Officer ) --- [email protected] Email Prompt: if you need an example:

Send Tweets regarding wanting Season 2 to Air on BBC on twitter (same hashtags from @renewasacrew I believe but it that's incorrect please let me know!):

BBC2 IPlayer

The ongoing twitter thread for this is here

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

====New Articles ====

BBC fans fight to save cancelled show, with petition reaching 58,000 signatures

'Our Flag Means Death': Fans Rally to Save Cancelled Show'

Our Flag Means Death: Fans campaign to save queer pirate comedy

---Articles in Dutch---

Fans pikken cancellen van Our Flag Means Death niet en tekenen massaal petitie --------------------------------------------------------------------------

=Cast and Crew Seen in the Wild=

**START OF DISCLAIMER: This whole thread on Djenkins and Taika's mother in law is fan theory at this point, read into it as you will, but think of it like tabloid news**

The most exciting and I think ... brain candy worthy today was Rhys and David posting a BTS picture of Rhys in the colonial hat/outfit. It sparked some interesting ideas on the status of season 3.

I have to say, hats off to the folks over on twitter @fowlfiend for making this connection

Earlier today, Chaos Dad, David Jenkins posted the following picture of Rhys that Rhys shared on his Instagram with a song attached to it called "I'm a Man" by Jobriath.

Now, all well and good right? Rallying cry to all the crew! BUT Twitter folks think there's a deeper meaning and I'm inclined to agree.

How fucking cool is that? Thank you to @lamentus1 for pointing out also that Chaos Dad's post had the "three finger" I love you which is yet another 3 today.

Add to that, Taika's Instagram's been pretty quiet lately, and he happened to post a picture today of his mother-in-law @veraora on IG for her birthday, which just happens to have... 3 pigeons in it. Once again, thanks @lamentus1 for bringing this to our attention. ---also please wish VeraOra Happy birthday!

Now, could all of this be just coincidence? Sure, but where's the fun in that? Seems like we're going on a treasure hunt.

**END OF DISCLAIMER: This whole thread on Djenkins and Taika's mother in law is fan theory at this point, read into it as you will, but think of it like tabloid news**

===Other Chaos Dad Posts on Twitter===

=Hashtag Updates / How you can help=

@renewasacrew Has done some cool stuff and made saveofmd.com direct to the petition site. This should help with being able to share more easily. Full thread here on tumblr

Today's Goals and Hashtags Per @renewasacrew

#ArentYouGLAAD #SaveOFMD #TheNumbersWereThere

=Petition Status Updates=

Petition hit 60K all!!!! GREAT JOB! Just in time for Time Square tomorrow!!

I didn't see a drastic change on a lot of the fundraisers so I'm not adding those today--- I think we've had a big day as it was with the stuff around David posting without posting about season 3.

So I thought I'd end with some more info from our lovely @TheCozyPirate on twitter, the lovely person who exposed the information about how s3 was already in preproduction. They seem to have more insight in a lot of this.

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=So if your question is, is it making a difference? Why doesn't dad just come out and say it? Here's some insight:=

And this next one helps me to feel like we're still heading in the right direction. "If there were nothing viable, he would be able to say that. He would never, never let this go on if hopeless". I think is pretty uplifting.

Lastly, I think you all should be damn proud of yourselves with these calls, as a former Customer Support Person, I appreciate you all so damn much for keeping it kind and polite! Stede would be proud!

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

Finally-- one last thing, since today's theme on tumblr is trolls getting all up in our faces, just remember you do not have to engage with them if you don't want to. If you want to have kind discussions, and you feel up for it, go for it, but don't feel obligated to defend the community.

We all know we care, we all know we're doing a great fucking job at taking care of each other, helping awesome causes, and still having fun while doing it. You don't have to prove to anyone that you are allowed to enjoy your pirate show that means something to you and spend a few bucks to support it.

Don't let people who are struggling with their own trouble take your light. Enjoy things, have fun. You deserve it.

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On a lighter note to end on: I have a serious question for all of you.

Who gave this man the right to wear these fucking shorts? Good god.

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bamsara · 2 years

Note

i know "When did you stop loving me?" is an angsty one, BUT what if it was actually an overly dramatic lament bc someone didn't get their way?

(I love that twist! Note: This written prompt is fluff/domestic shenanigans with Y/N having a habit of poor self-care, but the DA helps that.)

(This is a bit long so maybe not a drabble but a one-shot, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!)

You're a college student with a hetic, inconsistant schedule job and more stressers in your life that would make a therapist whistle, so you're not exactly the best at self-care, or even regular human maintence. Your eating schedule was flakey at best and the contents of your fridge wasn't anything healthy if just something to pop into the microwave very quickly to save time. Sometimes your apartment would get dirty quickly and with no mental energy or time to clean it up, you just lived a little gross for a while. Don't even get started on your sleep schedule.

The Daycare Attendant, you realize, became quite aware of your situation more-so than they already had after their 'permanent moving' into your home, and thus you've been subjected to more life changes in the last week than you'd ever be prepared for.

Sun uses your phone to order healthier groceries and and tsks at the instant-microwave meals in your cabinet. He's gotten into cooking, which is both incredably odd considering he's a robot, but amusing when you walk into the living room and he's watching an a show of middle aged women teaching the viewers how to make veggie pasta.

Maybe he misses arts and crafts back when he was at the pizzaplex, and just liked to work with his hands. Something hints at you this is a correct assumption because the fruit he cuts for you are star and heart shaped and he likes to take pictures with your phone afterwards. You don't get it, but it makes him happy and keeps his mind occupied elsewhere, so you don't mind.

Moon cleans up after your mess and threatens you (in a friendly manner, of course. You think.) to go to bed at a proper time or he becomes rather aggitated.

Any attempts at using your phone underneath the covers will result in a small EMP attack that takes out your phone and the neighbor's Television. You know, because Gramps mentioned that her TV only seems to cut out around the same time every night and nothing he does seems to fix it until morning. Moon holds no remorse, obviously.

It's nice. Even if they're a little bit pushy about about it. Honesty, you think these acts are just remants of their care giving programming, the need to feel useful after everything that happened or just trying to busy themselves with the human they're invested in. Maybe a mix of all of those things, but that's to be unpacked later.

The exchange wasn't unequel either. You've learned more about robotics in the last 6 months than you'd ever expect to know, for sure, along with some other things. You're an adult, you can keep yourself alive just fine, but it's nice to have the extra support.

It does, however, get a touch on your nerves at times.

"Moon, c'mon, I'm like, so close to the end-" You make a lunge for the remote, and it's closer to you than it was before. The animatronic holding it over your head doesn't even blink as you make a grab for it again and your fingers only brush air. "Dude! The season finale came out today. It's literally the last couple of episodes!"

"Sit." Moon states plainly. "Kitchen table."

"I'll eat later. It's not like the fridge is going anywhere, Moon. C'mon. Everyone has seen it but me and I'm already getting spoilers on my feed. Just another episode? You two said you've watch it with me anyway."

Moon blinks dully at you, and stuffs the remote underneath his hat. "No."

"C'monnnnnn"

Fingers find your collar and hook underneath the fabric, and routinly, you are dragged away from your unhealthy habit of binging new series of media to attend to your oh-so-delicate human needs that are far too demanding for your liking. The Daycare Attendant has long become acustomed to your whining.

The dinner table chair because your metaphorical prison as Moon lightly pushes towards it, sitting with a slump and a over-the-top dramatic sigh as the animatronic walks through your kitchen. The lights are dimmed, but he still squints at the refridgerator lights that greets him when he opens the door. "What do you want."

You resist the urge to snatch his hat and run. "A robot that doesn't nanny me."

Red eyes and white pupils side eye you, and Moon pulls out a a few items. He speaks deadpan. "Cry about it."

"Maybe I will." You snark back. He makes a noise somewhat akin to a snort, and you pretend your pinching his head inbetween your fingers from across the room. You raise from your seat, resigining yourself to your fate and getting yourself a drink. It's a sugary soda (caffine free!) that Moon glances at but leaves be. Sun would have polietly recommended water by now.

It's almost a funny image: a tall, clown robot standing in front of your microwave in a t-shirt and slippers, just staring at the glass with mild dissassioance until the counter goes down. You duck, popping your head underneath his elbow and his arm raises to allow you. "So." You sip at your drink, and Moon makes a face above you. "What's on the menu, Starboy?"

"Leftovers." A pause. "That we made this morning."

Right. Sun must have made a meal set during the day for the opposite half to make for you at night. Clever bastard. "...Can I have the remote now?"

Moon, without looking at you, adjusts his hat to sit better on his head.

"Bitch."

"Sit." He shoos you to the table. "And sleep after this. It's late."

Very late, actaully. Around the wee hours of 1AM and half-past god knows what. You'd been so caught up in your favorite show that you just sorta forgot to do everything else for the day, so eating, showering, studying were all at the bottom of the list. Regaurdless, your TV called to you.

You heave a dramatic sigh, falling back onto the kitchen chair and resting your elbow on the table, cheek resting in your palm. "I can't believe you'd treat me like this after all we've been through. Denying me the simple pleasures in life, for shame."

The microwave counts down to single digits and Moon's fingers hover over the handle. You can't see his face from this angle, but a faint chuckle is in his tone. "Tragic."

"Ugh, how could you?" You sigh again, more dramatically this time, and even go as far as to place the back of your free hand against your forehead and calling back to all the cheesy soap operas you and Sun watch in your free time. "I feel soooo betrayed. When did you stop loving me?"

The microwave starts beeping and Moon's fingers lock onto the handle, and freeze.

A couple of beeps ring by. You hand lowers and you raise a brow at the animatronic's still form. You give him a moment, because sometimes the Daycare Attendant stalls sometimes, and you chalk it up to being a robot thing. But the beeping was starting to get annoying. "Hey, man. The food's done."

Another two seconds. His fingers move and pop the microwave door open. You can smell heated up veggies and broth from across the room. "Funny."

"Yep. I can be a jester too."

"One episode." Moon grabs your dinner with one hand, and pulls the remote out from under his hat with the other. "To eat your food with. Then sleep. You're lacking."

The smile on your face comes naturally, and you swipe the remote from his hands. "Yeah, sure. Like I'd let you boss me around anyways. Come lay with me on the couch and watch it with me. There's aliens in this episode."

#Solar Lunacy #honestly i might start posting these to A03 to keep them organized #writings #fnaf #fnaf moon #moon x reader #this is totally not self projecting with the reader btw no sir /j

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precious-little-scoundrel · 3 months

Text

Dear John | Unsayable Things

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

I banged this out in an hour or two, past midnight, deep in my feels, half chatting with my baby @stylespresleyhearted who put in the initial request for this series and who is now owed a few choice lines herein. If you wanna stew in the pain of Friday’s episode- this is the angst fest for you. With a tiny bit of hope at the end. Tiny. But it’s there.

Summary: months after one drunken letter of horny (and gentlemanly) admiration was sent off by one John Egan to Miss Lana Tierney of Hollywood fame, a written rapport has formed between them, based on a refreshing freedom to be perfectly frank and even trivial in their letters -a tone set by his inarguably appaling initial correspondence. But until today, he’s never dared make use of the number she gave him to dial when he needs to say unspeakable things.

Warnings: angsty as hell? morose and possibly suicidal thought processes? it’s Egan after THAT phone call so, I imagine you can envision that it’s not exactly a stable mentality portrayed here-in.

Masterlist

Date: October 1943

The hotel lobby is as chilled as an ice box with those front doors constantly revolving, letting in gusts of autumn air that’s suddenly turned harsher than he recalled when he stepped out into the daylight this morning. His ride back to East Anglia won’t be here for another two hours and no amount of charm or haggling can get him the petrol to make the journey on his own. It’s a carpool sort of life now, every man, woman and child in Britain knows that but every minute he stays in the great metropolis feels like a betrayal to those boys who just got-

-he will get back in time.

He vowed it, he arranged it, now all there’s left to do is wait until it can be enacted. John was never good at waiting but now all the activities and pastimes he’d once relied upon to fill a slow hour seem intolerable. Imbibe any more booz and he’ll be unfit to fly, seeing the sites could get him more sights than he’d like, polite conversation makes him want to scream in the face of the next passer by that he’s lost something precious today -don’t they know? -and it would be just his luck today of all days to get answered by someone who did know, some parent with a dead child, pulverized to bits while he fucked his demons out.

So John keeps his mouth shut in a stern line and stares venomously ahead at the charming little Renoir hung in the lounge. No one has troubled him yet and by the spooked face of the desk clerk who offered him a menu, he dares to think he won’t be in future.

He is sick to death of it all, of the death itself and the brave faces and the lack of bravery he suddenly feels now and the necessity of it all. He hardly recognizes the hollowed out sinner he’s become with a head full of too many griefs to even formulate a prayer.

He was close to catatonic, eyeball deep in his self abhorrence, when he realized he was spinning round the little lacquered card she had enclosed three letters ago.

“If you ever need to say those unsayables, here’s a private line. Don’t call it if you don’t want me to answer, only you, my mama and my hair stylist have it. Xoxo, Jeanie.” 💋

The unsayable would be to call one of the most successful, desirable and busy women in the world only to admit John Egan has run outta words. But with the mounting desire to do something stupidly productive, and without the kind fist of a friend to dissuade him -he knew walking in front of busses wouldn’t get him any closer to Thorpe Abbots- a starlet’s withering rejection just might do the trick. Just might hurt enough to slice through the fog. His fingers were sweating as he spun the rotary, thumbnail tracing the underside of her extension.

God knows it would be unlikely to get through even the first connection, much less get overseas, much less find her at her home. What time of day was it back there anyway? And this entire conversation would get bugged to hell, he’d have to be careful and this was a terrible idea to start with and-

“Hello you,” the airiest voice he’s ever heard warbles over the static, teasing and warm, “I’ll admit it, that lilac did nothing for my color last night. You win, I’ve got the front page of the Whisper to confirm, please, don’t rub it in.”

John stares out of his little alcove in the lounge with watery eyes, mouthing a silent -what the fuck- to himself before recalling the obvious: only her mother, her hairstylist and him. With this line, Jeanie -or should he call her Lana on the phone?- didn’t expect a stranger. This was an anticipated call and he about hangs up in mortification at not being what she expected.

But then, the hollow idea of one and a half hours of waiting for the ride catches up and John recalls that he had in fact phoned in order to be humiliated and he was a rare sort of chump to take so poorly to a plan gone off to so dazzling a start.

“Can’t imagine a shade that wouldn’t suit you.” he finds himself saying smoothly, the flirtation on autopilot.

He can hear an audible gasp on the other end of the line and a breathy sputter and what might be sheets rustling, or perhaps it’s a dress or paper or-

“JOHNNY?” she all but squeals and he winces at the blare of the receiver in his ear, the flinching crinkle of his blue eyes not without some pleased merriment at her unabashed excitement. “This you? Finally you used it, you silly old thing! Oh gosh, oh gosh say something again, your voice is divine! Oh, I can’t believe I’m finally talking to you. I thought you were my mother! Oh say something! You’re there, aren’t you? Johnny?”

She sounds so pleased he finds his eyes smarting and suddenly this feels like the worst idea in the world. He needed her to be harsh, to fit with every other disillusionment that’s rained down on him this past month, instead he’s met with -care. His stomach roils and not even the mean suspicion that she’s putting on an act can make it calm. “Well, I’m finally somewhere I don’t have to share a line with the whole group.”

“Where’s that, Johnny?” She sounds as eager as if he’s got a lot of options.

“London.”

“Oh!” There’s a waiver to her voice, he’s not sure why, but either way she sounds unsure if she should be merry or sober. “Business or pleasure?” she inquires levelly and it’s got all the sultry teasing he’s read into her scrawled writing hundreds of times, John finds himself flushing despite the morose sentiment that comes up right behind it.

“That, well, uh, that uh“ he picks at the sleek paint on the phone base and questions whether he’s going to use precious time on the phone with the hottest dame on planet earth to throw a pity party, “-I think the intention was a rehabilitation for the nerves. Ironically the guy who suggested it is now toast.”

“Oh John.” she sounds wounded and he bites his lip in savage pleasure at hearing what he wishes he could feel. “Was it -was it someone close?”

“A couple hundred, more like.” he sulks, his jaw ticking so hard he might break a molar if he keeps on. “But yeah. Yeah today was-“ he tries to think of the censors and that makes him laugh at the thought of all their previous filthy correspondence making it through but some slip of the tongue about a dead friend could land them in the hot spot, his following laugh is snotty and he could gag at himself for it.

“Johnny, darling man, are you-“ she shifts course and he holds his breath, depending on her for something, he doesn’t even what, “-does this happen to have something to do with our duet’s harshest critic?”

He smiles at her cleverness, she’s not a complete airhead then. And she recalls Buck. Of course she does, she hasn’t stopped sending him kisses via Egan’s letters even though she didn’t recall meeting either, not even when John had sent back photographs of the both of them to jog it. The flow of correspondence hadn't stalled despite this strike out and neither had the morale boosting glamor shots of certain of her assets which John kept locked in the false bottom of his footlocker and one small one folded in in the hollowed heel of his boot.

_“keeping it handy for the emergency tug off?” Gale had scorned him but Egan liked having her with him._

“Yeah, Shirley Temple- he’s been uh, he’s been traded, ya see.” Egan manages the metaphor once more and winces at the truth it hides.

He hears Je-Lana?-Jeanie?- suck in a breath on the other end. “Gosh. John. Any sign of, of-“ she begins to stammer, “of chut-“

-chutes, she’s going to say. John coughs loudly into the reviver and her voice trails off in recognition of his warning. “This was a mistake.” he decides, “I just -you can see why- I just thought I’d like to hear a-a-a voice, a-“

“A friend!” she replies eagerly, “I’m here, I’m here don’t go, not yet, not unless you have to, Major. Are you waiting? You’ll be wanting to get back, no? Or will you be staying on? In London?”

“I’m not staying.”

“Of course.” she whispers, “I’m so terribly, terribly sorry.”

His grip on the receiver has turned white. “No,” he decides, “I’m the one who’s sorry. Bringing this up, never even talked to you before and I go and make it this the call. Pretty girl like you doesn’t need this.”

“I told you to call.” she reminds him gently, “And Johnny, I’m ever so happy to hear your voice, I’ve imagined it a million times rereading your letters and looking at your photographs. I can concede that my imagination failed.”

“You reread them?” he is amused.

“Yes. Don’t you reread mine?”

“Mhmm you bet.”

“Gosh your voice gives me shivers.” she whispers into the phone and he feels an odd rising of the hair on the back of his neck. “Are you having to beat the London women off with a baseball bat?”

“I just let ‘em swarm.” he admits and she makes a noise of intrigue, “I was with a widow last night.” He blurts. “Polish. We watched the bombs from my hotel room.”

“How relaxing.” Without missing a beat Jeanie’s soft tease comes through, “Did the one balance the other for the nerves?”

“I’m dehydrated and hungover.”

“And grieving.” she adds.

That’s an unsayable. “I just needed to talk to someone.” he decides.

“Did she not speak English?”

He’s gone this far, he might as well be honest. “She didn’t know Buck.”

“Mm.” She makes a mournful noise of assent.

“I-I’m tryin’ not to do something stupid Jeanie,” he hates how his voice shakes but to her, it sounds more like rage than fear, “and I thought if I could hear your voice I’d -id get some peace. And wait for my ride without bustin’ up the Carleton.”

“Yes, I forbid you to bust up the Carleton without me, Major.” she warns and his pulse leaps at the simple direction, it’s a joke of course but it lodges heavy and wanted in his chest. “Promise me, Johnny, one day we’ll cause a great scandal there, you and I?”

“Miss Tierney,” he bites at his lip, “it’s a kindness for me not to make promises. To girls -to anybody.” She’s got to know that, she’s just being nice. “Especially not to special little ladies with nice long futures ahead of them.”

“It’s Turner, actually, Miss Turner if you’re going to be so formal.” She corrects, not a single part of her name Hollywood hasn’t meddled with. “But you must know, it’s far too late for that John. I miss you like mad.”

“We haven’t even met.” he reasons.

“What, and you don’t miss me?”

He curses under his breath fondly and shrugs. “I adore you.”

There’s a beat of silence in which he thinks he may have blown it by being so gushing but in fact, Jeanie finds herself milking her throat to dislodge the lump of painful glee settling there.

“Then you do whatever you have to, Bucky Egan,” she commands him, imperious but fervent, “you punch and get punched and drink as much as you need and bed as many girls as it takes and go after Buck-“

“-hold up, how’d you kn-“

“-but you come home. It’s much too late to tell me not to get my hopes up. You’re all I dream about anymore. There’s got to be some future for us, there’s got to be, Johnny, I’m not asking you to promise I’m asking you to try. Do what you’re good at.”

The pause is long and heavy and Bucky thinks he hears her sniffling on the other end. Unmoored by the unprecedented honesty he’s receiving and the juxtaposition of being someone’s risky bet for happiness when just this morning he’d come to resign himself to letting go what could only ever be a passing night's comfort- “Hell of a business.” he finds himself repeating.

“But you’re the best at it.” she retorts, “So stay the best.”

Everything certain, everything he thought was a given got blown to hell with Gale’s plane today. “Used to tell him if everybody else went down it’d be just him and me. I believed that.” He mumbles into the phone, turning to tuck his neck into the device like it’s the soft crook of her neck, “Now to be the best- that’s just me, and charred Europe under me and no one else in sight. That’s what you’re asking? ‘Cause that’s how this ends.”

The sun is shining bright and brutal in California, a cheery morning to mock her cocktail hangover and now she thinks it’s to hurt him as well, everything is so far removed an ocean away. Such bleakness is hard to even fathom for her, but the man she’s come to know, to love even, on paper is hoarsely spilling his guts to her over the phone and she’s not sure what one says to such a prediction. Her agent hovers in the doorway, the angry swats of her hand not sufficient to deter him from fretting with the press conference approaching. “So what, this is a suicide note?” she winces as soon as she says it but honesty has always been their currency.

“No.” he replies at long last and her shoulders sag. “I thought- i just wanted to hear your voice once before I go up again, Jeanie.”

“And I’m glad you called.” she swears, “And now I’ll have a voice to go with all the wicked things you do in my dreams.”

“Oh fu- Jeanie that’s unfair.” He balks and she grins at the little victory.

“Alls fair in love and war, Major.” She reminds, “Now tell me, do you want to tell me about him? Buck-“

“No, fuck no!” he hisses, angry at himself, “I wanted to talk to you to forget. I wanted to hear your voice.” He repeats it like an idiot.

“Then tell me,” she soothes, unphased by his outburst, “what would you like to hear in my voice, Major? The latest score? Perhaps the front page of the Times? They brought it in with my toast. Or some dirty line from one of your letters? I’ve got them here under one of Salinger’s books. They’re safe from the fiancé there, he’s a complete ignoramus with a phobia for learning.”

Bucky chuckles at her unabashed derision for her hotel scion intended and grins at the idea of her sleeping so near to his scrawled professions of lo- obsession at the very least.

Love is another unsayable.

“Just -tell me about your day, sweetheart?“ he begs, hoarse with the need to teleport elsewhere for the remaining forty minutes of his wait.

“If you’re sure.” she sounds only mildly skeptical, “It’s been very loungey, rather frilly.”

“Perfect.” he sighs, closing his eyes.

“Well, it’s actually morning here so I haven’t been up to much,” she begins and he feels guilty for just dialing away, damn the timezones, “I’ve not even dressed.”

“What color are you wearing?” he begs before he even realizes it.

“White.”

Hey sucks his teeth and nods approvingly. “White what?”

“A silk top and- no! Go away Herbert, for the last time!” Some interruption seems to occur on her end as a man’s voice comes through in snatches and Jeanie’s raised one drifts through the hand she’s cupped over the receiver, “Herbert, for the love of God, I am talking to one of the men protecting our country, the reporters can wait!”

Jeanie’s snappy loyalty soothes some raw edge he’s felt since watching *her* leave this morning without more than a kiss. “Reporters, huh?” he sympathizes, fully ready to give her an out.

“You’d think they’d have enough to report, there’s a war on.” she seethes and he has to smile again, “Anway, where were we? Oh, my pajama shorts.”

“White.”

“Yes Johnny, white.”

“Send me a picture?”

“Awfully demanding for a man who hasn’t even promised me he’ll try to live and see them in person.”

John puffs out a laugh at being snared so easily. “Alright, I’ll try.”

“Promise?” Her voice sounds so small.

“I promise.” He’s dazed by the shift, how did he end up being the one begged by Miss Hollywood herself? Perhaps he’s still drunker than he thought.

“It’s all any of us can do, Johnny,” she says, “but we’ve gotta try. You got your pinky up?”

“What?”

“For your oath- pinky swear.”

“You're not even here.” he laughs.

“I’ve got mine crooked, come on Major, meet me halfway.”

And so John Egan finds himself sporting a watery, helpless grin as he lifts his finger into thin air and crooks it around her imaginary little digit. Her sigh sounds as if she can feel it a ocean away. Perhaps he’s gone fully looney in the way he thinks he can, too.

He doubts she’ll appreciate his choices in the next few weeks, maybe even doubt his intention to keep his oath, but what matters is he’s going to try. Even if it’s an angry, furious, blind sort of determination, it keeps him firmly out of the London bus lane until Hobbs and his transport arrive and then it’s goodbye Jean Turner, hello again Thorpe Abbots.

Taglist: (I’m sorry for tagging y’all twice in a single day, oops)

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

@taestrwbrry

#mota fic #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan #archive #mine #Dear John

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sailor-aviator · 5 months

Text

Til the Summer Comes Again: Chapter One

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, 'Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.'" — Lewis Carrol

Summary: Bob was a winter spirit who loved what he did. He loved making individual snowflakes. He loved the way the snow sparkled in the winter sun. He loved the laughter his creations brought to people around the world. What he didn't expect, was to fall in love with a human girl from a small town. He has until the summer comes again for her to reciprocate his feelings if he wants to remain on earth, but will the shadows that haunt her get in the way of happily ever after? (JackFrost! AU)

Trigger Warnings: Language, Flirting, Talks of past trauma, Allusions to depressive episodes, Allusions to failing, Magic, Elemental/Seasonal Spirits, Mentions of feeling watched. I think that's it.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: I realize that not too terribly much happened in this chapter, but things are just getting warmed up! Be sure to join the tag list too if you haven't already so you don't miss out on any updates! I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts, and stay tuned for an exciting little announcement. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where all of my works will also be published! If you enjoy my work, please consider sending me a tip!

Series Masterlist || Robert "Bob" Floyd Tag List

There was a chill in the air as you walked into the tired, old bookstore on the corner of main and first. The building was as old as the town of North Island, Maine itself. You weren’t sure if it had always been a bookstore, but it had been ever since your mother was a child. She had insisted on moving closer to her parents who were getting on in years, and your father had readily complied as his job allowed him the privilege of working remotely. Your mother would bring you with her to the bookstore every so often, perusing the old books as you sat in the corner with whatever book had caught your eye that day.

“There’s magic in old books, Sugar Plum,” she would say. “You just have to know where to look for it.”

And while you loved books, dance was your first love, hence your mother’s nickname for you. She had loved dancing as a child, but left it behind in pursuit of other endeavors, something she regretted immensely. Which is why she had signed you up for dance lessons at an early age, and when you were cast as a sugar plum fairy alongside the older girls one year? She was ecstatic, calling you her little sugar plum so much that the name had just stuck, even beyond the world of dance.

Your mother had led you into the kindergarten classroom as your little hands wrapped around her leg nervously.

“There’s no need to be scared, Sugar Plum,” she had cooed, coaxing you out from behind her as you peered around the room at the other children with your little eyes. “Everyone here is new too.”

“But I don’t wanna leave you,” you pouted, tears springing to your eyes at the thought of your mother leaving you behind. She kneeled down in front of you, rubbing her hands up and down your arms in a bid to soothe you.

“It won’t be forever,” she assured you, smiling softly. “It’s only until three o’clock today. And then you get to come home!”

“What if no one likes me?” You whispered, the tears threatening to spill over now. It was one thing to be in a new place by yourself, but for no one to like you on top of it? Your mind couldn’t comprehend the horror.

“That’s not going to happen, Sugar Plum,” she chuckled, running a hand over your hair. “How could anyone not like you?”

Before you could answer, a girl with dark hair and big brown eyes came skipping up to the two of you with a huge smile.

“Hi!” she chirped, looking at you. “I’m Natasha, but you can call me Nat. What’s your name?”

You gave it to her, still clinging to your mother. “But my family calls me Sugar Plum.”

“Sugar Plum?” Nat hummed, cocking her head to the side in thought. “Like the fairies?”

You perked up at her words, letting go of your mother’s pant leg and stepping forward.

“Yeah!” You grinned. “I wanna be in the ballet!”

“You dance?” She asked, eyes growing wide as you nodded. “That’s so cool! Come on, I wanna tell Bradley and Reuben!”

You followed after her, giggling. You turned just long enough to wave goodbye to your mother before running off after Nat who introduced you to the two boys.

The little group had adopted you quickly, and the years passed with them by your side. They came to every dance recital you had, cheering you on as best they could, and every cancelled weekend plan was forgiven as you chased your dream of making it big as a dancer.

“There’s always next time,” Nat had assured you while Bradley and Reuben nodded alongside her.

“Chase your dreams, SP,” Reuben had grinned.

“We’ll be waiting for you on the other side,” Bradley had tossed in, ruffling your hair.

You couldn’t have asked for better friends, truly.

And then it had all come crashing down. The memory of the spotlight on you, standing on the stage and being unable to move, the tears that had streamed down your face as you stared into a wall of darkness. The unseen eyes that stared back at you before you ran off the stage.

It had been humiliating, and it had been your friends who had helped you pick up the pieces afterwards.

“You don’t have to try again now,” Nat had assured you, wiping your tears when they fell. You had all been gathered in your room a couple of days after the incident, you in your pajamas and buried under piles of blankets. “It’s okay to take the time to rest.”

“Who needs to go to a fancy school, anyway?” Bradley had smiled, hugging you close into his side. “You don’t need someone else to tell you how good you are.”

“Dopey here has a point,” Reuben added, earning a scowl from the other man. “You’re amazing, SP. We’ve known that all along. You just gotta be the one to realize it now.”

Their words still echoed in your mind months later. Since that day, you had gotten a quiet, part-time job at your beloved bookstore, working under the watchful eye of Pete Mitchell.

“Call me Mav or Maverick,” he had smiled at you when he offered you the job, and you had agreed with the condition that he call you by your nickname as well. Maverick was a kind, older man. A local who had left for decades before coming back.

“What did you do while you were away?” You asked him one day. You had dreamed of leaving the small town too, one day, but that dream seemed so far away now. He hummed, thumbing through an ancient-looking book. The ink was fading against the yellowed pages, but there was an air of mystery surrounding the tome.

“I did several things,” he answered, glancing up at you. “Learned lots of things. Maybe one day I’ll teach you.”

Maverick was a strange, old man.

You weren’t the only one that worked at the bookstore. Maverick had three attendants that worked in the store with you, and they were an odd bunch to be sure. There was Jake, a handsome blond with a cocky smile. He was a man who was sure of himself, and more than once he had tried to woo you with all kinds of flowers and one liners. Next was Javy, a stoic charmer whose smile felt like you were bathing in the sun. He was the most levelheaded out of the three and the one you went to when you needed help with a project. Last, was Mickey. Mickey appeared to be the closest in age to you with a grin always on his face as he hopped around the store. He was also the most animated of the three, reminding you of a puppy with his seemingly endless amounts of energy.

The three seemed normal enough, but odd as well. One or more of them would often pop up out of nowhere, sending you into near cardiac arrest a number of times. There were times where you’d catch Jake talking to the plants around the store, and you would almost swear you’d see the plant perk up as he crooned at them. Then there was the time Javy got so mad at Jake after the blond had “forgotten” to do the dusting for the fifth time that week, and you swear the gust of wind that followed was calculated. Or the time that you heard Mickey sneeze followed by Jake shouting, “dammit, Mickey!” You had rounded the corner to find the brunette grimacing sheepishly as Jake frantically slapped out the smoldering document. It wasn’t until later that you realized that there hadn’t been a candle in sight.

Yes, they were an odd bunch to be sure, but you were very fond of them.

“What are you three doing hanging around an old bookstore like this, anyway?” You had asked them one day. Mickey had perked up from where he was looking over a book that had seen better days, grinning at you wildly.

“Oh, we’re his apprentices!” He laughed. “He’s teaching us ma-”

“How to manage books,” Javy interrupted, stepping over and placing a hand at the base of Mickey’s neck. Mickey winced, scowling up at the larger man. “Maverick is teaching us how to take care of all of the older books here.”

“I see,” you hummed as Mickey shrugged the other man off, shooting him a glare before fixing his gaze back on you. “What got you into old books then?”

“What’s not to like about old books?” Jake grinned, leaning forward and shooting you a wink. “There’s so much magic in them, isn’t there?”

Javy shot him a warning look as you fixed the blond with a blank stare.

“I didn’t know you knew how to read,” you mused, turning back to the stack of books you were cataloging in the computer. Javy let out a booming laugh as the grin on Jake’s face dropped. Mickey snickered as you fought back a smirk at the dumbfounded look on the blond’s face. Jake recovered quickly, the grin easing back onto his face.

“I’m full of surprises, dewdrop,” he winked. You rolled your eyes as you continued with your work, the telltale sound of Maverick’s shoes clacking against the hardwood. He rounded the corner from the back, staring at your small group.

“I need you three to follow me,” he said, gesturing to the boys as he turned back the way he came. You sighed, waving the trio off as they bid you goodbye. It was late, and you doubted they’d make another appearance before the end of your shift. Oftentimes when Maverick came to fetch them, they’d disappear for hours, and sometimes you wouldn’t even see them for days. You thought it odd, initially, but you learned to not question it. You were thankful to have a job with enough hours to keep you busy, and Maverick paid you well for the seemingly inconsequential work that you did around the shop.

Once the three men disappeared beyond the back door, Maverick poked his head back around the doorframe.

“SP?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you go on ahead and head home for the night?” He suggested, smiling warmly. “The weather is supposed to get bad here soon, and I don’t like the thought of you being out there in it by yourself. You can go ahead and lock the shop up behind you.”

“Okay, Mav,” you smiled, setting the stack of books to the side as he nodded and once again disappeared behind the door.

You made sure things were closed up the way they needed to be, double checking to make sure that the backdoor was locked before grabbing your coat, scarf, and gloves. You peaked out the window to see that the snow was already starting to fall onto the quiet street outside, and you stopped to admire the stillness that seemed so otherworldly. Winter had always been your favorite time of year. You loved the snow, the laughter, ice skating, and how warm everything felt despite the frigid temperatures. Winter was finally here.

You made sure to tuck your ears beneath your hat, pulling your scarf up around your face as you exited the shop, the bell signaling your departure. With key in hand, you locked the door, giving it a tug to make sure that it was in place before starting the ten minute walk down the street to your home. The frigid air kissed at your cheeks, bringing warmth to the surface as you continued to trek through the heavy falling snow. A chill ran up your spine, and you stopped in your tracks, feeling eyes on you. You whirled around, looking for any sign of life as you stood alone on the street. Most everyone else was at home, snug underneath their blankets or by their fireplaces, and not a soul could be seen from where you were standing. This happened to you often, this feeling of being watched. You had felt it since you were a little girl. Sometimes it wasn’t too bad, like the feeling of a guardian angel watching over you and keeping you safe. But other times, times like this? The feeling was sinister, like whatever it was that was watching you would devour you whole.

You drew your coat tighter around your shivering form, turning back towards the way home. You had gotten good at walking home quickly over the years, but you always wondered if there was a reason for your rush of adrenaline. You hoped you never found out.

Bob followed Tom towards the bookshop, the sign on the front already reading, “sorry, we’re closed!” Bob frowned. He was hoping he could have seen you before you left, but perked up when he remembered that he would see you soon, and this time you would be able to see him.

Tom stopped in front of the wooden door, knocking three times and waiting. A figure appeared from the depths of the shop, walking up to the door and peering out the glass. Tom waited patiently as the man on the other side unlocked the door, opening it with a warm smile.

“Tom,” he greeted, pulling the winter spirit into a hug. Tom chuckled, patting the man on the back.

“Maverick,” he smiled, pulling back and gesturing towards the younger sprite. “This is Bob.”

The man, Maverick, fixed his gaze on Bob, studying him for a moment before smiling.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said with a nod in his direction. He stepped back to allow enough room for the two men to enter. “Come in. The others are already in the back.”

The others? Bob frowned at that, but followed Tom into the building nonetheless. The two waited for Maverick to lock the door behind them before leading them behind the counter and into the back. The three men walked down a flight of stairs that led into a spacious room lined with bookshelves. Three other men stood in the room, their faces lifting at the sight of the joining men. Bob instantly recognized them as fellow sprites, albeit different from him, and his curiosity was piqued as he glanced between Maverick and Tom.

“What? Did you want to collect the whole set, Mav?” the blond joked, eyeing Bob with a wicked grin, green eyes sparkling with mischief. A spring spirit, no doubt. Maverick chuckled as the winter spirits followed him to the center of the room, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

“Nothing like that, Jake,” he smiled. “Just doing a favor for an old friend, is all.”

“So how do we fit in to this favor?” Chirped the smaller of the three, bouncing from one foot to the other. An autumn sprite, maybe?

“We’re going to do a spell,” Maverick continued, moving over towards the far wall where a desk sat. He picked up one of the heavy tomes, turning around to face the group once again. “A spell that requires ancient magic, and lots of it.”

“And what’s more ancient than the seasons?” Hummed the last of the spirits, his eyes still trained on Bob and Tom. Bob could feel the warmth radiating off of him from across the room. No doubt a summer sprite.

“That’s right,” Maverick smiled, glancing up at the summer sprite. “And as my apprentices, I’ll need your help with it. Yours too, Tom, if you don’t mind.”

The old, winter spirit smiled good-naturedly, watching as Maverick began to place candles around the edges of a chalk circle in the center of the room. Once they were placed to his liking, he turned to Bob, gesturing towards the center of the elaborate design.

“Bob, if you wouldn’t mind standing in the center here.”

Bob did as instructed, eyeing everyone wearily until his eyes landed on Tom. He nodded, giving the young man a reassuring smile that served to put his mind at ease.

“Alright then,” Maverick mumbled, scanning the text of the book in his hand. “I’ll need the rest of you at the cardinal positions.”

The spirits moved to their respective decisions. To the south, summer. To the east, spring. To the west, autumn. And finally, Tom took his position at north, waiting for his friend to continue.

“Bob.”

The winter sprite turned to look at Maverick who had a gentle smile on his face.

“Do you understand what you’re getting into?” He asked, eyes flickering to Tom for the briefest of seconds. “You’ll have until the end of the season to make the spell permanent. That means you have to earn the love of another human. If you don’t, you’ll turn back into your original form permanently. Do you understand?”

Bob nodded firmly, thinking of you. He wanted you to see him, to feel for him what he felt for you. He would show you how much he loved you, and he would convince you to feel the same way.

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds like you already have someone in mind,” the warlock continued. If Bob could blush, he would have, but instead he gave the man a bashful look. “Are you sure you’re willing to risk this?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he spoke, pushing his shoulders back and puffing his chest out. He was sure about you. Maverick looked at him for another moment before nodding, turning his attention to the other men in the room.

“I need you all to concentrate your magic onto him,” he instructed. The four men nodded, gathering their magic around them. Bob felt a strange hum fill the air as Maverick began to read out the text from the book. It wasn’t in any language Bob had ever heard of, but he was fairly young compared to some of the other sprites. He could feel the energy start to swirl around him as a strange feeling coursed through his veins. It was hard to describe what he was feeling, but Bob likened it to the feeling of melting snow, like warmth coursing through him for the first time in his existence. He felt the air leave him as the energy buzzed louder and louder, Maverick’s chanting growing distant as Bob was forced to his knees. His fingers clutched at the ground as his vision blurred, his head pounding from the force of the magic that encapsulated him. He gasped for breath, blue eyes meeting the wise ones of Tom as they watched him worriedly. Bob closed his eyes as the spell tore apart his very being, stitching him back together into something new. It felt like hours passed, but it had surely only been a few minutes.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. An eerie calm filled the room as Maverick collapsed into the chair behind him, the three younger sprites, falling to their own knees. Only Tom stood unaffected, his age and power protecting him from the draining spell. Maverick pulled out a handkerchief to wipe at his sweaty brow, looking much paler than he had minutes before.

“It’s done,” he murmured, closing the tome with a definite thud.

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